Page 30 of Doctor Daddies

Once I’m dressed, I head downstairs and find the door open a few inches. I step inside, glancing around, and see that the bathroom door is locked. I knock on it, letting her know that I’ve arrived.

“Are you okay?” I call through the door.

“I will be,” Millie replies, though there’s an edge of strain in her voice I can tell she’s doing her best to keep back. It stings to hear her like that, but then, she didn’t get me down here to look after her—she wanted me to help out with Lewis, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.

It’s nearly seven, early enough that I have time to figure myself out before he leaves for school. As I make my way through the apartment, I find him in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfastbar with his hands clasped in front of him. He looks nervous, perhaps freaked that his mom is so ill. I wonder briefly if she has told him about the pregnancy yet, and I resolve to keep my mouth shut on the matter just in case.

“Hey,” I greet him. “I’m a friend of your mom’s—you’re Lewis, right?”

Lewis nods. He has dark blond hair that’s slightly overgrown, as though he hasn’t had it cut in a while, and he looks…frail. How old is he now, five?

As he looks up at me nervously, I can see the slight hollowness in his cheeks, how pale his skin is, and it’s obvious that he hasn’t exactly been doing well in the months that led up to him moving in here. I know he’s got medical issues, but there must be more we can do for him to try and keep him from getting eaten up by his illness.

“I’m Cole,” I introduce myself. “I live upstairs, so your mom asked me to help out with your breakfast today. What do you normally have?”

“Um, whatever she makes,” he replies, crossing and uncrossing his legs nervously as he fidgets on the stool at the edge of the bar.

“Okay, let’s see what you’ve got in here then,” I mutter, as I pull open the cupboard door. “I’m not much of a cook, so you might have to put up with whatever I come up with, okay?”

I keep talking to him as I pull a few bits and pieces from the cupboard, picking out some tofu from the fridge—that should be good, right? Tofu is usually a solid choice for people who have gut issues, with the fermentation and everything. I could fry up a little of that with some spices on toast; that will have to do…

“Is my mom going to be okay?” He suddenly speaks, his words small and clearly laced with genuine fear.

I look over at him as I heat up the pan and nod at once. “Yeah, of course she will be,” I reply. “She’s just…a little under the weather, that’s all. But she’ll feel better soon. Later today, even?—”

“Now, actually.” A voice cuts me off.

I look up to see Millie standing in the doorway. She’s wearing a pair of sweats and a cami, and her face is damp, as though she has just splashed water on it. I fight the urge to reach over and give her a hug in greeting, not wanting to seem too familiar with her in front of Lewis when I still don’t know where I stand with all of that, but I grin at her sympathetically.

“You feeling a little better?”

“I’m getting there,” she replies, as she moves behind Lewis and drops a kiss on his head. “What are you making?”

“Just some tofu,” I reply. “You want some?”

“You know, that actually sounds good,” she agrees, as she slips onto the stool next to Lewis, leaning on the counter.

She looks a little pale and clammy, and I see that she’s still a bit shaky, but she’s doing her best to cover it up for her son. How much more has she had to contain for him, to keep to herself because she knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the enormity of it?

I frown slightly as I turn back to the stove, brows digging together at the thought. “You have tofu a lot?” I ask. “I’m not a great cook, I don’t know if it’ll be up to your standards?—”

“No, actually,” she admits. “I heard that it was good for Crohn’s, which Lewis has, but I—it’s always so expensive and I didn’t know if I would be able to cook it, so I never wanted to risk buying it up just to waste it. But we’ve had it since we moved in, and it’s good, right, Lewis?”

I look back over my shoulder to see his response, and find him nodding.

“Well, at least you won’t have much to compare it to,” I joke, as I grab some gluten-free bread from the packet next to the toaster and start to heat up a few slices. My eyes dart to the coffee machine, and I feel a sudden, overwhelming urge for caffeine. I don’t want it to seem like I’m making myself to at home here, but then—if they’re going to be living here for the next few months, I guess I should try to figure out where I fit in all of this, right?

“Mind if I make myself a coffee?”

“Go ahead,” Millie replies, waving a hand. “In fact, you mind if I have one? I’m allowed a single one a day, and I feel like I need it right now.”

“Sure thing,” I agree, and I set about filling the pot and making us both some coffee. The delicious scent drifts through the kitchen, and the place starts to feel more like a home than it ever has before.

“You want to go and get your bag all stocked up for school?” Millie suggests to Lewis. “Make sure that you’ve got everything you need?”

Lewis hops down from the counter and heads through to what I assume to be his room, leaving Millie and me alone together. As the coffee machine finishes up, I push a cup across the bartoward her, and she wraps her hands around it as though it’s the only thing keeping her alive right now.

“Thanks so much for coming this morning,” she murmurs, as she looks up at me. “I know it’s a big ask, coming to help out like this, especially when you haven’t even had a chance to meet Lewis before, but?—”