The Lisa Scottoline Collection: Volume 1 by Lisa Scottoline

Author:Lisa Scottoline
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-02-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

“It’s Mommy, honey.” Ellen went over to Will’s bed, and his sobs intensified, cranky wails in the dark room.

“I’m hot.”

“I know, baby.” Ellen scooped him up and hugged him close, and he flopped onto her, resting his head sideways on her shoulder and clinging to her like a baby koala. His face was damp against her neck, and she rocked him as she stood. “My poor baby.”

“Why am I hot?”

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, okay?” Ellen lowered him back into the bed, and he was too listless to squirm. He had fallen asleep in his turtleneck and overalls. “I’m gonna turn the light on, so be ready. Cover your eyes. Ready?”

Will slapped two small hands over his eyes.

“Good boy.” Ellen leaned over to the night table and switched on the Babar lamp. “Okay, move your hands away from your eyes, nice and slow, so they can get used to the light.”

Will moved his hands away, then came up blinking. “I’m getting used.”

“Right, good.” Ellen retrieved the board books that had gotten wedged inside the bed frame and set them on the night table. She unhooked the fasteners at the top of his straps, then shimmied him out of his overalls. “You had a big, long nap.”

“Mommy.” Will smiled shakily at her. “You’re home.”

“I sure am,” Ellen said, with a twinge. “I’m so glad you got such a good rest. That’s going to help you feel better. Reach for the moon, partner.” She pulled off his damp shirt as Will raised his arms, and she could barely see the thin white line that divided his little-boy chest down the center, though he felt embarrassed enough to wear a T-shirt when he swam. Once it had been a knotted zipper of flesh, in days she would never forget. “You hungry?”

“No.”

“How about soup?” Ellen placed her palm on his forehead. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d used a thermometer, as if it proved her motherhood bona fides.

“No soup, Mommy.”

“Well, then, how about bugs and worms?”

“No!” Will giggled.

“Why, did you have that for lunch? Are you sick of bugs and worms?”

“No!” Will giggled again. Oreo Figaro appeared in the threshold and sat silhouetted in the hall light, a fat cat with a back hump like Quasimodo.

“I know, how about you eat some cat food? I bet Oreo Figaro would share with you.” Ellen turned to the cat. “Oreo Figaro, would you share your dinner?” Then she turned back to Will. “Oreo Figaro said, ‘No, get your own food.’ ”

Gales of laughter, making Mommy feel like a comic genius. “He has to share.”

“Oreo Figaro, you have to share. Will says so.” Ellen turned to Will. “Oreo Figaro says, ‘I make my own rules. I’m a cat, and that’s how cats roll. ’”

“Oreo Figaro, you’re gonna get a time-out.”

“Right.” Ellen got the liquid Tylenol from the night table, unscrewed the lid of the small bottle, and sucked some into the dropper. “Here’s medicine. Open up, please, baby bird.”

“Where’s Oreo Figaro?” Will opened his mouth, then clamped down on the dropper.

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