Page 69 of Something Like Shelter

“Hey, honey.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Willa

I hated being sick.

I mean, I guess everyone does. And while my family usually teased my cousin Violet of being the terrible patient—because she bemoaned her fate loudly and often—I was right up there with her when it came to being difficult when I didn’t feel well.

I was just more quiet about it. I cuddled up and wallowed. Usually whimpered and whined a lot. As a kid, I had my parents to fuss over me. But as an adult, I was always on my own to suffer, so it didn’t really matter if I was miserable about it.

I honestly hadn’t given much thought to the idea of being sick with a small baby. My immune system was supposed to protect her. But I guess if my immune system was compromised too, what could be done?

At the sound of Owen’s voice, my head whipped up.

“You called my parents?” I asked.

“They called you at the exact right moment,” he explained. “I asked them to come over. I was having trouble waking you up, and Adelaide felt way too hot to me.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize she was getting sick.”

“How could you? This is your first time doing this.”

“I guess. But she was intolerably fussy. And I wasn’t feeling right either. I thought it was just because I was tired.” And I wrote the body aches off as, well, soreness from straddling him.

“There’s nothing to blame yourself for. You’re sick. She’s sick. It happens.”

“But what if you weren’t here? How long would I have slept? How long would Adelaide have gone without someone realizing she was off?”

“Hey,” Owen said, coming into the room, toeing off his shoes, then climbing up on the bed. “Let’s not do that. I was here. I did notice. You would have woken up eventually and done whatever needed to be done. There’s nothing to beat yourself up about. Now, your mom sent me up here to make sure you take this.”

“I don’t like taking anything when I’m breastfeeding.”

“Your fridge and freezer are full of milk. Adelaide won’t starve. Besides, I don’t think this really matters for that. But it will stop you from hallucinating.”

“My dad told you about that?” I asked, wincing as I took the pills and swallowed them back with half the bottle of water. There was a scratchy sensation in my throat that I knew was going to turn into soreness sooner rather than later. If that was what Adelaide was feeling, it was no wonder she was fussy and didn’t want to nurse.

“Yeah. He said it came on outta nowhere like this too.”

“Yeah. I kind of wish my baby didn’t inherit that particular trait,” I said, sighing.

“Your mom is cooing over Adelaide. Your dad ran to the store for supplies.”

“They’re the best.”

“Yeah, they seem like it. I gotta ask you something.”

“Sure.”

“Paine?”

I shot him a small smile.

“Basically, his dad named him that because my grandmother was in so much pain when she was in labor. It was a name that has served him well in both his jobs, though.”

I mean, if there was ever a time to broach this topic, I guess it was now.

“How’s that?”