The Christmas Wife (9 page)

God bless Mrs. Crane
, he thought when he saw the
small container of sliced carrots and celery.  He grabbed them and tossed them
into Hattie’s backpack. 

“I need a yogurt and an apple, please,” Hattie said.

He shoved them into her backpack with the rest of the food
and zipped it neatly.  “Okay, let’s go, Hattie.  We’re going to be late.”

“I need breakfast.  Mama says it’s the most important meal
of the day.”

“Uh…what do you want?”

“Pancakes,” she said.

“We don’t have time for pancakes, Hattie.  How about some
toast?”

She sighed.  “Mama usually makes me pancakes.”

“Um,” he was struck with brilliance, “how about if I stop at
McDonalds on the way to school and buy you pancakes.  You can eat them in the
car.”

“Really?”  She clapped her hands and danced around the
kitchen.  “I love McDonalds’ pancakes!  Thank you, Mr. Stone!”

“You’re welcome.”  He tucked her backpack over his shoulder
and herded her out of the kitchen.

The sting of the needle woke Claire from her doze and she
stared bleary-eyed at the grey-haired man sitting on the bed beside her.

“Who are you?”

“Hello, Mrs. Stone.  My name is Dr. Morris.  I’m Rosa
Stone’s personal physician.”

She studied the IV in her hand.  “What are you doing to me?”

He smiled and patted her arm.  “I’m just giving you some IV
fluids and some medication to help with the nausea.”

He dug around in his bag and pulled out a thermometer before
placing it in her ear.  After a few seconds it beeped and he frowned at it. 
“You’ve got quite the fever, Mrs. Stone.”

She lay back against the pillows and watched as he injected
her IV with a clear liquid before hooking up an IV bag to it.  “How – I mean,
why are you here?”

“Mr. Stone called me personally and asked me to check up on
you.  He was quite worried about you.”  He held her wrist and stared at his
watch.

“Deacon called you?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t have insurance.”

He blinked at her in surprise.  “Your husband will pay my
fees.”

He checked the drip on the IV.  “It seems you have a pretty
nasty case of the stomach bug that’s going around.  You’ll need a few days to
recover but the IV fluids will help you feel better.  I’m headed over to
Rosa’s, and once I’m done there I’ll come back and remove the IV.  I think one
bag of fluids should be enough.  Later tonight I want you to try some clear
liquids.  No solid food until at least tomorrow and that should just be some
dry toast.  Alright?”

“Alright,” she whispered. 

“How’s the nausea?  Any better?”  He asked.

“Actually, yes.  Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.  That shot should last twenty-four hours or
so.  If the nausea is really bad again tomorrow, just have Mr. Stone phone me
and I’ll stop by with more medication.  Okay?”

“Yes, thank you again, Dr. Morris.”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Stone.”

* * *

“What the hell is on your jacket?”

Jude collapsed in the chair across from Deacon’s desk as
Deacon glanced at his jacket.  “Syrup.”

“Syrup?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll bite – since when did Deacon ‘my body is a
temple’ Stone start eating syrup?”  Jude asked.

“I didn’t.  Claire’s sick so I drove Hattie to school this
morning and we stopped for pancakes.  She spilled syrup on my jacket.”

Jude bellowed laughter, “Welcome to parenthood, Deacon.”

“Shut up, Jude,” Deacon snapped.  “I was just helping Claire
out.  She’s got the stomach flu and spent all night vomiting.”

“Gross.”  Jude said.

Deacon studied the spreadsheet on his computer as Jude
grinned at him.

“Is there something you want, Jude?”

“Just wanted to confirm that our 3:30 meeting is still a
go.”

“Yes.  We need to go over the numbers for – shit!  We’ll
have to push the meeting to Monday.  I need to be at the school to pick Hattie
up by three.”

Jude laughed again.  “Is she calling you daddy yet?”

“Shut.Up.Jude.” Deacon said through gritted teeth.  “In case
you’ve forgotten, this marriage thing is a sham.  In a month I’ll never see
Claire or Hattie again.”

“Right.  So you banging Claire yet or what?”

Deacon glared at him.  “What the fuck, Jude?  That’s my wife
you’re talking about.”

Jude cocked his head at him.  “Your fake wife, you mean.”

“She still deserves respect,” Deacon snapped.

Jude held his hands up.  “You’re right, I’m sorry.  So, are
you and Claire making sweet, sweet love yet?”

Deacon sighed loudly.  “Of course we aren’t.  Why would you
even think that?”

“Because I saw the way you kissed her.  Jesus, dude, I
thought you were going to try and screw her right there in front of us.”

“It was just a damn kiss, Jude,” Deacon muttered.

“Bullshit,” Jude said cheerfully.  “You want to bang, uh, I
mean, make love to her.”

Deacon didn’t reply and Jude eyed him suspiciously.  “You
have had sex.”

“No, we haven’t,” Deacon denied vehemently.

“But…” Jude cocked his eyebrow at him.

“Are you going to sit there until you hear what you want?” 
Deacon asked.

“Yep.”

“Fine!”  Deacon scowled.  “We might have done some stuff but
we haven’t slept together.”

“Why not?”

“One, it’s a very bad idea and two, Hattie keeps
interrupting us.  She thinks there are monsters under her bed and keeps showing
up in the damn bedroom every time we’re about to….”

He trailed off and Jude roared laughter again.  “Holy hell,
Deacon Stone is being cock-blocked by a seven year old!”

“Keep your damn voice down, Jude!”  Deacon hissed. 

Jude continued to snort laughter and Deacon rolled his eyes. 
“You’re an asshole.  Listen, instead of pushing the meeting to Monday, why
don’t you come by the house around five and we’ll go over the numbers then.”

“No can do, buddy,” Jude said.  “I’ve got a date.”

“With who?”

“That curvy piece of heaven from your wedding.”

Deacon’s mouth dropped open.  “Ellen?  You’re going on a
date with Ellen?”

“Yes.”

“Jude, you can’t date Claire’s best friend!”

“Why the hell not?  The girl is a firecracker.  She’s got a
body that doesn’t quit, a mouth like a sailor, and she’s smarter than me. 
She’s the perfect woman.”

“Have you lost your mind?  What happens if this turns
serious?  She’s Claire’s best friend.”

“So?”

“So?”  Deacon stared at him.  “I won’t have anything to do
with Claire after a month, remember?”

“I remember.  I’m not asking you to double date with us, for
God’s sake,” Jude said.  “Besides, I’m a wild animal – I can’t be tamed that
easily.  Who even knows if I’ll still be dating Ellen in a month?”

“Jude,” Deacon said warningly.

Jude stood and gave him an innocent look.  “Sorry, buddy. 
I’m smitten with the woman and I’m taking her out tonight.”

* * *

“You’re supposed to ask me how my day was.”

Deacon stared at Hattie in the rear view mirror.  “What?”

“You’re supposed to ask me how my day was.  Mama always
asks,” the little girl said.

“How was your day, Hattie?”

“It was good.  I got eight out of ten on my spelling test,”
she said.

“Congratulations.  What two words didn’t you spell right?”

“I don’t remember,” she said carelessly.  “How was your day,
Mr. Stone?”

“Very busy.”

“Did you see Santa today?”

“No, I was working in my office all day.”

“Oh.  What are we having for dinner?”  She asked.

“Whatever Mrs. Crane makes for us,” he replied as he
shoulder checked and moved into the left lane.

“Mrs. Crane told me yesterday she wouldn’t be there when I
got home from school today.  It’s her daughter’s birthday,” Hattie said.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.  He had forgotten that
Martha was leaving early today.

“Do you know how to cook?”  Hattie asked.

“No.”

“You don’t know how to cook?”  She gave him a look of shock.

“Do
you
know how to cook?”  He countered.

“No, but I’m only seven.  You’re old.  Old people know how
to cook,” she said.

I’m not that old.”

“Maybe mama is feeling better and she’ll cook me dinner,”
Hattie said.

“I think your mama is going to need to rest tonight,
Hattie.”

“But I’m starving,” she said before holding her stomach
dramatically.  After a moment she smiled sweetly at him.  “Maybe we could go to
McDonalds?”

“No way,” he said.  “You’re not eating McDonalds twice in
one day.”

She crossed her arms and pouted at him.  “Then what are you
going to feed me?  I’m soooo hungry, Mr. Stone.”

“Pizza,” he said suddenly.  “I’ll order us pizza.”

Her face lit up and she cheered loudly.  “I want pepperoni
and cheese!”

“Fine,” he said as he pulled into the driveway.  “But first
I’m going to check on your mama and you have to be really quiet if she’s
sleeping, okay?”

“Okay.”

* * *

“Mama?  Are you awake yet?” 

Claire groaned as the smell of pepperoni and sauce drifted
to her.  Her stomach rolled with nausea and she cracked open one eye and peered
at Hattie.

“Do you feel better, mama?  We checked on you earlier but
you were sleeping and Mr. Stone said we shouldn’t wake you up.” 

The little girl’s face was covered in pizza sauce and there
was a slice of pepperoni stuck to the front of her t-shirt.

“I feel a little better, honey.”

“That’s good.  Mr. Stone said the doctor came today and gave
you medicine.”

“He did.”  She wanted to close her eyes and drift back to
sleep but she made herself smile at Hattie.  “How was your day?”

“It was good.  Mr. Stone took me to McDonalds for pancakes
before school.  I spilled syrup all over him and his car seat and he didn’t
even yell at me.”

“Oh, Hattie, you have to be more careful.”

“It was an accident, mama,” she said.  “Then Mr. Stone
picked me up and we came home and he ordered us pizza because he doesn’t know
how to cook.  He’s old but he can’t cook.  And he broke my pants.”

“He broke your pants?”  Claire wondered if the fever was
making her delirious.

“Yes, the zipper. He’s not very good at helping me get ready
for school,” Hattie said.  “He doesn’t even know how to braid hair, mama.  I
didn’t – “

“Hattie?”  Deacon’s voice, edged in panic, floated into the
bedroom.  “Hattie, where are you?”

“I’m in here, Mr. Stone,” Hattie called.  She rubbed
Claire’s arm as Deacon hurried into the room.

“Hattie, I told you your mom needed rest.”

“I was just checking on her.  She’s awake now.”

Deacon sat down on the bed and gave her a worried look. 
“How are you feeling, Claire?”

“Better, maybe?”  She said.

“You don’t look better.”  He rested his hand on her
forehead.  “You still have a fever.  Maybe I should have Dr. Morris come back
tonight.”

“No, don’t.  I’m fine.  I’m just really tired and still
pretty nauseous,” Claire said.

Deacon gave her another anxious look and she smiled tiredly
at him.  “Honestly, Deacon.  I haven’t thrown up since this morning.  I just
want to sleep, okay?”

He nodded.  “Yes, but first do you think you could drink some
broth?  Dr. Morris said you needed clear liquids.”

“I can try,” she said.

“Good.  C’mon, Hattie.  You can help me warm up the broth,”
Deacon said.

“Sure.” 

Deacon flinched when the little girl took his hand and
smiled at him.  He smiled stiffly back and led her out of the bedroom.

* * *

Deacon shut off the TV and glanced at Hattie.  She had
fallen asleep on the other end of the couch and he breathed a sigh of relief
before rubbing wearily at his neck.  It was way past Hattie’s bedtime but every
time he had broached the subject of bedtime she had neatly sidestepped it, and
he had no idea how to make her go to bed. 

He briefly considered just leaving the little girl on the
couch, but if she woke up in the night she’d be disoriented and terrified.  It
wouldn’t kill him to pick the little girl up and carry her to bed, for God’s
sake.

He stood and slid his hands under her armpits before lifting
her.  She hung like a limp doll, her mouth slightly open and her head tilted to
the side, and he hesitated before placing her against his chest.  She curled
into him, slinging her arms around his neck and sighing sweetly, and he rubbed
her back gingerly as he carried her up the stairs.

He eyed her pajamas lying on the end of her bed, deemed it
too difficult and settled for tugging off her jeans and tucking her into bed in
her Hulk t-shirt and underwear.  He covered her up and smoothed her hair back
from her face.  She smiled in her sleep, it brought an answering one to his
lips, and murmured, “Night, night.”

“Good night, Hattie,” he whispered.

He crept out of her bedroom and into his own.  Claire was
sound asleep in the bed and he stripped and pulled on his pajama bottoms before
climbing in beside her.  She didn’t move and he stroked her back lightly before
shutting off the bedside light and closing his eyes.  Christ was he tired. 

* * *

He woke a few hours later to the sound of Claire vomiting. 
He hurried into the bathroom as she flushed the toilet and smiled weakly at
him.

“I’m sorry.”

He felt her forehead, frowning at how warm it was, before
helping her to her feet.  “Claire, maybe I should call Dr. Morris and – “

He was interrupted by Hattie’s terrified screaming.

“Mama!  Mama!”

Claire stumbled toward the bedroom door and Deacon grabbed
her arm and steered her to the bed.  “I’ll check on Hattie.  Climb back into
bed.”

“Thank you,” she whispered as she curled up into a ball.  He
covered her with the quilt before sprinting down the hallway toward Hattie’s
room.  She was really screaming now, inarticulate sounds of terror that made
him wince, and he muttered a curse when he stubbed his toe on the door frame.

He limped into her room and flicked on the bedside light. 
Hattie was sitting straight up in bed, holding her truck in a death grip, and
staring terrified at him.

“Mama!”  She screamed.  “I want mama!”

“She’s still not feeling well, Hattie.  What’s wrong?”

He sat down on the side of the bed and grunted in surprise
when Hattie threw herself into his arms.  She clung to him, her entire body
shaking and her tears wetting his shoulder.  He rubbed her back soothingly.

“Monsters!  The monsters under the bed!”  She sobbed.

“Hattie, there aren’t any – “