Chapter 2

They were awakened two and a half hours later by the baby’s cries blasting through the monitor. Tori sighed heavily and started to sit up.

“Go back to sleep angel, I’ll go.” Richie urged her to lie back down as he slipped out of the bed. “Unless she’s hungry.”

“Bottle in the fridge.” Tori muttered. “Or make her some pablum. She hasn’t eaten much today. It’s in the cupboard beside the fridge.”

His brows rose. “Bottle?”  She hadn’t said anything about not breastfeeding anymore and she’d nursed Peanut longer.

“Mmmhmm.” Tori cracked open an eye. “You felt what she did to your finger.”

He winced. “Gotcha. How’s she taking that?”

“She’s not real happy with me at the moment.”

Richie chuckled. “Can’t say that I blame her. Can she have Tylenol now if she needs it?”

She checked the clock and yawned. “Yes.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep. Daddy’s on doctor duty.” His brows rose and his lips twitched. “Say that three times fast.”

Tori snorted at his goofiness and did as he suggested...for about twenty minutes.

“Mama! I sick! MAMA!”

She threw back the covers and sat up. “I’m coming Peanut, I’m coming.”

Padding down the hall, she walked into the toddler’s room to find that he had indeed been sick – all over himself and the bed – everywhere but in the bucket.

“I sorry Mama. I no see bucket.” He lifted tear filled eyes to her. “I sorry!”

“Sssh Peanut, it’s okay. You can’t help it. Mommy’s not mad.” She pulled back the top blankets – which were remarkably unsoiled - and proceeded to strip the bed – and Peanut. She took him into the bathroom for a quick bath then dressed him in clean pajamas and sat him in the rocking chair in his room while she made up his bed with clean sheets.

She was tucking him back in with some water and Tylenol when Richie came in carrying the baby. “What happened in here?” He’d heard them moving around the hallway.

“He got sick.”

“Aw ober my bed.” Stevie frowned and his lower lip started to quiver. “I sorry Daddy. I no see bucket.”

“That’s okay Peanut.” He smoothed a hand down his son’s hair. “It happens. Sometimes when you’re sick it happens so fast you don’t have time to find the bucket.”

Tori looked at her daughter who had her head lying on her father’s shoulder, her dark eyes dull and sad looking, one small hand resting on his arm. When she leaned over to move a lock of hair away from her eyes and kiss her forehead the hand tightened on his bicep. Tori smiled wryly and reached for a tissue to wipe up the drool running down the baby’s chin and Richie’s bare arm. “Don’t worry Sweetpea. I’m not going to take you away from Daddy. What was bothering you? Ear? Toofers? Or just hungry?”

Richie kissed the top of Lauren’s head. “All three I think. She had a few spoonfuls of pablum and some Tylenol. I was just checking on Peanut before trying to get her settled again.” He stroked his son’s hair again. “You okay now buddy?”

Stevie yawned and nodded. “I tink so.” He looked over the side of his bed. “I see bucket.”

Richie chuckled and bent to kiss his forehead. “Okay. Get some sleep. Nite Peanut.”

“Nite Daddy.”

Tori tucked the blankets up around Stevie and felt his forehead. The Tylenol was kicking in. “Okay Peanut, try to get some more sleep. Yell if you need me.” She kissed him.

“Okay. Nite Mama.”

Tori looked in on Richie and Lauren. They were in the rocking chair with a bottle. Standing in the doorway, she listened to his voice singing softly. Emotion brought tears to her eyes that she quickly blinked away. She stepped close, bent and kissed the baby before heading back to bed. “Feel better Sweetpea.”

She was asleep by the time Richie joined her ten minutes later. Three hours later the routine started again.

“Mama! Mama!”

Tori groaned and threw back the covers.

“I’ll go.” Richie offered. Just then the baby started crying.

Tori had to laugh. “At least they get up together. You see what her problem is, I’ll go to him.”

“You don’t want to switch this time?” They usually tried to give equal time to both kids.

She shook her head. “No. Lauren seems to want you tonight. And like most men when they’re sick, Stevie wants his Mommy.”

As if to emphasize her point, Stevie yelled again. “Mama!”

Richie wrinkled his nose at his wife’s ‘like most men’ comment, but dutifully got up to care for his daughter. Passing Tori, he gave her a swat on the rear end. “I’ll remember that angel.”

“Hey! What? It’s true.”

“No it’s not. When I’m sick I don’t want my mother. I want you.”

Tori chuckled and rose up on tiptoe to kiss him. “But you still whine like a baby. Ow!” She rubbed her abused posterior where he’d pinched her.

“Brat!” The baby’s cries grew louder. “Daddy’s coming Sweetpea. He just had to set Mommy straight.”

Tori snorted and would have responded, but Stevie yelled for her again. She found him sitting up in his bed. “What’s the matter Peanut?”

“I tirsty.”

“Does your tummy hurt?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Does your head hurt?”

He nodded. “Tunca Teek.”

She had to think for a moment to grasp his meaning. “You mean it feels like Uncle Tico is playing his drums in your head?”

He nodded. “Big one.”

“The boom boom one?” He nodded. Tori smiled. “Okay I’ll get you something for that.”

Some water and more Tylenol and Stevie settled again. Tori stopped in Lauren’s room to check how the other half of the family was making out. “Everything under control here?”

Richie nodded without stopping the rocking motion of the chair he was sitting in, humming softly, the baby laying on his chest. “Yeah, she’s just about out again. Peanut okay?”

“Yeah. He said it felt like Uncle Tico was playing his bass drum in his head.”

Richie grinned. “Wait until I tell Teek he sounds like a headache.” His grin faded as he noticed his wife’s face pale even more. “Go back to bed angel. I’ll be in, in a few minutes.”

Tori didn’t argue. In fact, by the time she walked across the hall into their bedroom she had to run for the bathroom.

Dark brows furrowed into a deep frown. “Mommy doesn’t look very good Sweetpea. I hope she’s not getting the flu too.”