Make Me Yours(68)

“I have to resign as Lillie’s nanny.”

“No…” It’s the final straw. I feel like she’s bringing me to my knees. “Lillie loves you.”

Her hands cover her face, and she nods quickly as her shoulders shake. When she speaks, her voice goes high. “I know.”

I can’t stand it anymore. I close the space between us, pulling her into my arms. “You can’t leave us. You have to stay.”

Her hands are on my arms at once, moving them away and stepping out of my embrace. “I’m sorry.” She clears her throat, getting her voice under control. “I’ll explain to her why I have to go.”

“What will you say?”

“I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

“Ruby, please. Tell me what I can do to fix this.”

Her chin lifts, and her dark eyes meet mine. They’re so open and vulnerable, so deep and soulful. It breaks my heart. I wait for her to say anything, to tell me what she wants.

She waits a moment longer. Then she breaks our gaze.

“I’ll pick up Lillie from school. You can let Eleanor know I won’t be having dinner here tonight.”





29





Ruby


Life has a funny way of changing our plans.

Lillie had only been home five minutes before she went to the bathroom and immediately started wailing. I’d intended to tell her what was happening over lunch, now I’m in her pink bathroom holding her in my arms.

“Ruby!” She’s sobbing, and I cover my mouth and nose at the stench.

“Oh! Oh no.” It’s the best I’ve got.

Her little leggings and white undies are on the bathroom floor soiled.

“My butt threw up.” Her voice is so small and weak.

I grab the shower curtain, ripping it open again. “It’s okay, baby. It’s going to be okay.”

My heart breaks a little bit when I see how miserable she is, knowing she had a shitty night’s sleep last night and knowing what’s coming. What I have to tell her.

It’ll have to wait.

“Here.” I help her wipe, feeling the fever radiating off her little body.

I quickly strip off my skirt and lift her into my arms, stepping into the shower as I hold her against my chest. Her little arms are around my neck, and she whimpers softly.

The water is warm and soothing, and I let it wash the filth away, using a washcloth to help with the bits I can’t see.

I stroke her hair as we stand under the spray. “It’s going to be okay, baby. Everything’s going to be okay.”

We stay in the water about a minute longer as I make sure I’ve gotten all the dirt off her bottom. Then I shut it off and grab a fluffy towel off the rack. Standing her in front of me, I dry her gently. Her hands are on my shoulders, and her eyes are closed. She’s flushed and feverish, and I wrap her up tight before carrying her into her bedroom.

She’s dressed and tucked in her bed, and I quickly gather her dirty things in the towel I used to dry her. I dash to my room and change clothes then start another load of laundry before I grab the ibuprofen, saltines, sprite, and a banana.

I’m just guessing over here.

When I make it back to her bedroom, she’s lying on her side, her big eyes hollow and tired. I help her up and give her a dose of children’s ibuprofen for the fever. Then I climb in beside her, cuddling her against my chest.

“Are any of your other friends feeling bad today?”

“Bunny wasn’t at school.” Her voice is slow and weak. “Louie said she has a bug. I thought he made her eat dirt when I wasn’t around. She lives by his house.”

“I think Louie meant she had a virus. Some people call viruses bugs. I don’t know why.”

Lillie sniffs and scrubs her face on my shirt.

“I was thinking about the ketchups today,” I start. She makes a little noise and tucks her head closer to me, hiding her eyes. “They make these things called stress balls. You squeeze them when you feel stressed out, and it’s supposed to make you feel better. It might be a great alternative to those packets. What do you think? Want me to get you one?”

She’s quiet a minute. “What’s stress?”

“It’s bad feelings you get when you can’t control things. Or maybe too many things are happening at the same time, and you feel overwhelmed.”

Again she’s quiet, thinking. “I don’t like to feel stress.”

“Nobody does. It’s like those dolls with the beady eyes. They always stress me out.” I exaggerate my tone, hoping to cheer her up.

“Or Veggie Tales.”

“Yeah…” I’m encouraged she’s playing along. The ibuprofen must be working. “Or Thomas the Tank Engine. Talk about beady eyes!”

She starts to giggle. “Or Gigi’s clock when it says ten.”

I confess, I’m stumped by that one. “What happens when it says ten?”

“It has all those eyes.”

Ah… it’s a digital clock. Interesting. “You have a vivid imagination, Lil. I’ll be sure and never get you an American Girl doll.”

She snorts and I turn on the television, finding a princess movie on Netflix. Halfway through, she’s getting droopy. She wraps a little arm around my waist and yawns. “I wish I had eyes like you. I think you’re beautiful.”