Page 66 of Something Like Shelter

“God, no. I need this.”

“I brought Italian too. Hopefully, she settles after this.”

The problem was, Adelaide didn’t seem to want to nurse. Willa tried and tried again, but told me as she burped her that she was barely drinking.

But she did fall back to sleep afterward, so we figured she was just tired.

After changing her, Willa joined me in the kitchen to nuke dinner and eat.

I fed Tuna and took him outside.

When I got back, Willa was once again asleep on the couch. And I didn’t dare wake her.

So I took Tuna for a long walk that he probably didn’t need, since he was already worn out, but more to clear my own head so if I walked back in to chaos, I would be able to be the calm both the girls needed.

But all was quiet in the house.

Tuna took himself to the bed Willa had ordered him, curled up, and passed out. Not sure what to do, I sat down on the couch at Willa’s feet. I didn’t want to abandon her, in case she woke up and needed me. But I also didn’t want to walk around her house when she wasn’t aware of it, either.

So I sat and half-watched TV and half kept looking between the girls, feeling a warm sensation and a tug that I was sure would pull if I strayed too far from them.

But as the fourth hour passed and not only didn’t Willa stir, but neither did Adelaide, the overwhelming feeling was worry.

I got up, unable to shake the sloshing in my stomach, and went to the bassinet, then reached out and touched her forehead.

She was warm.

Way too warm.

“Willa,” I called, reaching out to shake her arm. “Willa,” I called again. She stirred, but didn’t wake up.

My hand went to her forehead.

And, yeah, she was burning up too. Maybe even more than her daughter.

“Shit,” I said, feeling a sinking sensation, not sure what to do.

But it was during that panic that I heard her phone ringing from somewhere in the house.

I made a beeline for it, figuring there might be help on the other side. I was hoping for Gracie, since I knew her. But the screen said Mom instead.

That would do.

I swiped the screen and brought the phone to my ear.

“Hey,” I said.

There was a short pause. “Is… Willa there?”

“This is Owen,” I told her.

“The contractor?”

“Yeah. I’ve been… working on the house. But I think Willa needs some help over here.”

“Help?” she asked, her voice tight. “What’s wrong?”

“Adelaide has been really fussy all day. And barely nursing. I haven’t heard her cry in almost four hours so I went to check her. She’s hot. I tried to wake Willa… and she’s hot too.”