David
On Wednesday, since Allison wasn’t feeling well, I had the honors of picking up our daughter from her last day of school.
She ran to the car with a big smile, and her teacher came up behind her to open the door and buckle her into the seatbelt. “Daddy! I got a solo in the pageant!” She climbed up into the seat and tossed her bag into the floorboard.
“We’ll see you at the pageant, Mr. DeVant. Happy Holidays.” She shut the door, and I waited for her to step away before I drove toward home.
“Where’s Mama?” Sierra’s brow furrowed.
“Mama is not feeling well. She thought I’d like picking you up for your last day.”
She held up a piece of paper. “This is the schedule for the play, Daddy. I have to come to rehearsal all week.” I let loose a sigh and glanced at the paper. There were five performances total, and if Allison didn’t get any better, I’d have the honor of getting Sierra to each one all by myself.
“Put that back in your bag, so you don’t lose it, and we’ll look at it when we get home.”
“Christmas Eve is the biggest night. That’s the last performance and my teacher says that we get to host a charity event after. They’re going to have a big cake.”
It was cute listening to her gush about the pageant, and I was proud of her for being involved and excited too. When I was a kid, I hadn’t wanted to do any type of singing or performing but remembered the time her mother had played a Christmas tree in the middle school play. She’d been so pretty, all draped in green and adorned with ornaments. Missy had helped with the costume. I realized I was starving and decided that I’d cook as soon as we got home. I stopped by the market and Sierra, and I went inside and gathered everything we needed for homemade chicken soup. I had a pretty good idea how to make it, but I called my sister to make sure I was right.
Sierra pulled a stool up to the counter and helped me load up the food slicer. It was nice to finally have our kitchen back, and with any luck, the last of the construction on our laundry room would be done soon enough. I let her help where she could, which was mostly telling me how to do things. She did manage to fill a pot with water, and I shrugged at the amount and tossed in a few chicken breasts.
“This is going to be the best chicken soup ever. I bet Mama feels better after one bite.”
“I hope so, baby. I don’t like Mama being sick.” I hated seeing either of my girls under the weather and hoped that whatever this bug was, that Sierra and I didn’t get it.
It was all Greyson’s fault with his sinus bullshit that had turned into a full-blown cold. He’d even missed two days of work for the first time in three years, and I had no doubt he’d infected the house the day I’d given him the business.
Just when I thought the chicken was ready to debone, Sierra jumped down from her stool. “Someone’s here.”
I watched her as she went around the counter to the front window. “It’s Uncle Blaine!” She jumped up and down with joy.
“Let him in.” I walked over to the kitchen door and watched as Katrina stepped inside with Blaine on her heels.
“What smells good?” Katrina unwrapped her scarf and took off her gloves, shoving them in her pocket.
“Mama’s sick, and we’re making chicken soup.”
“Oh no!” Katrina looked my way. “Is it a cold?”
“I’m not sure. She’s had a little cough and sniffles, but she’s been nauseated and can’t keep anything down.”
“Has she lost her appetite?”
“No, which is why I’m making soup. I hope it’s just a cold.”
She grinned and looked at Blaine who was obviously thinking whatever she was. “Are you sure she’s not—
The rest of the question hung in the air as she glanced down at Sierra who was already heading back toward me and the kitchen. “You know, pregnant?” She whispered the word.
“Wouldn’t she know?”
“Well, not necessarily. I’m going up to talk to her.” She headed upstairs, but I shook my head. Allison would know if she was pregnant and it wouldn’t explain her runny nose and cough.
My brother joined me in the kitchen, and Sierra went up to see her mom too. I decided it was time to find out just what was going on with my brother and Katrina Maxwell.
“Are you two like a thing?”
“Yes, we’re a thing.”
“Relationships are a lot of work, man. Are you sure you know what you’re getting into? Katrina is Allison’s best friend, and she’s a bit protective.”
“I know. I like that they have each other.”
“What about Greyson, are you aware that Katrina’s been spending time with him as well?”
“Well, not anymore, not like she was. I told her how I feel and she said she let him down easy. I didn’t want to make problems, but I’m at this point in life where I’m going for the things I want. I want a relationship and a family.”
“And you want that with her?”
“Why are you so surprised? Have you seen her? She’s gorgeous, and she’s outgoing and creative. We hit it off.”
“I just don’t want this to end badly, and then things be messed up. I like Katrina, don’t get me wrong, but with her being so close to Alli, and you being my brother—
“It’s going to be fine. If things keep going the way they are, I might be married before you.” He gave me a shit-eating grin, but I had news for him.
“Not unless you’re planning to do it on Valentine’s Day, I’ve got you beat.” I gave him a wink and went back to my chicken, which was a sickly shade of white. I put it on the plate and pulled it off the bone with a fork.
“I think you’re supposed to use your hands.”
“I’m not touching that.”
He belted a laugh. “I’m sure it’s okay. It’s the thought that counts.”
“It’s going to be delicious.
“Valentine’s Day, huh?” He scratched his chin. “Nope, I think that’s a bit too soon for me. But maybe by the summer.”
“You’re really head over heels for her. Don’t rush it. Look how long it took me and Allison.”
“I don’t have a lifetime.”
“Sure, you do.”
He put his hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes. “I really wanted you to be happy for me.”
“Trust me, I am.”
“Good.” He turned and leaned against the counter. “So, Greyson’s really taking over?”
“Already has. I announced it on Monday.”
“I’m officially out on the thirtieth, and then we’ll be in rush wedding mode.”
“Valentine’s Day.” He shook his head. “You know, that will make it easier to remember your anniversary. Pretty smart thinking.”
Katrina came down and stopped to smell the aroma of the soup. “You’re going to make a good wife, DeVant.”
Blaine laughed. “I was just telling him how getting married on Valentine’s Day was going to help him remember their anniversary.”
“Assuming you can remember when Valentine’s Day is.” She had a point. I sucked at remembering dates. “Allison’s excited. I heard all about it upstairs.”
“And did you make a diagnosis?” I was eager to see if she still thought Alli was pregnant.
She giggled. “Only one way to know for sure, but it might cost you twenty bucks.” Blaine and I exchanged a look, and she rolled her eyes. “Go buy a pregnancy test.”
“Now that’s a solid idea.” I had a twenty to spare for peace of mind.
“I told you she’s amazing.” Blaine kissed his girl as I tossed the chicken back into the pot. The vegetables were simmering and getting softer, and it was actually looking edible.
A half hour later, after Blaine and Katrina left, the soup was done. I fed Sierra a bowl, and we ate together in our new breakfast nook as Alli finished her nap.
I went up and knocked on the door, carrying a tray with some juice and a bowl of my soup, which wasn’t half bad.
“What’s that?” She sat up in bed and pulled the covers around her waist.
“Chicken soup. It’s got carrots, celery, noodles.”
“From a can?”
I proudly shook my head. “Nope. I made it from scratch.”
“Have you tasted it?”
“Yes, and Sierra too. We liked it. I did add a tad more salt, but I think I got it. Katrina and Blaine left.”
“Yeah, I was a bit out of it when she came up. I told her about the wedding.”
“Me too.” I placed the tray on her lap and sat next to her. “You need to eat and build your strength.”
“I hate being sick. I’m going to miss Sierra’s pageant.” She rubbed her face and wiped a tear.
“I’m going to take care of you and make sure you’re all better. Katrina thinks you’re pregnant.”
“I’ve been pregnant; it feels different. Trust me, I wish.” She got a spoonful of soup and picked up a cracker. She gave it a taste and her eyes lit with surprise. “That’s good stuff.”
She dropped her spoon back into the bowl.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just so sore; achy.”
“I’ll feed you.”
“You’re too good to me, David. I feel bad being sick with there so much going on. I have a wedding to plan.”
“Hey, we have time. We have to get you well. Nothing else is more important. One thing at a time.” I didn’t want her to worry about a thing.