Today was December second, and she had only twenty-two days left to get it all done. Now it was Tuesday, and Max wasn’t any better. She knew he couldn’t go to school with a lingering fever and she dared not leave him at her mother’s house to get everyone else sick—especially Gramps. She wanted to be there for Max, take care of her little guy, and make him feel better. He needed her, and she didn’t need anything else getting in the way of caring for him.
“Can you eat anything?” She pushed a small Spider-Man plate toward him on his dresser. The crackers had been there all morning and he hadn’t eaten yesterday.
He shook his head.
“I’ll be right back. Call me if you need me,” she said, getting up.
She was going to have to let Nick know that yet again she wouldn’t be there. She rubbed her forehead as she looked down at the timings sheets she’d made to ensure that every detail was complete before Christmas. Her to-do list was mounting. She picked up her phone. When she dialed Nick’s number, her hands were shaking as the phone began to ring.
“Nick Sinclair.”
She sat up straight, repositioning the phone on her ear. “Hi. It’s Abbey.”
“Ah, Abbey. I’m glad you called. A ton of boxes arrived yesterday. I had Richard put them in the upstairs hallway for now. Some of the furniture is in place, but you may need to tell him if it isn’t in the correct room. He tried to match what you’d ordered. I’ve also had a call that one of the bedroom suites you’ve ordered is being delivered today. Apparently, they weren’t sure if they could do the delivery that quickly, but they had an overstock at the warehouse…”
She bit her lip. This job not only meant a lot of money for her family, but she felt good doing it. Just hearing the lift in his voice as Nick told her about the items that had been delivered made her want to do this right. He said he didn’t care much about it, but she wondered if the changes were growing on him.
“Max is still sick,” she said into the silence. She struggled with even saying it. She knew that Nick would probably understand, but she didn’t want to miss another day. “Would there be a way I could bring him?” she heard herself ask. Guilt swelled in her stomach as she thought about dragging poor Max across town to this job. She knew she shouldn’t, but she didn’t have any other ideas.
“I’m sorry that he’s still ill,” Nick said.
The buzz of silence that followed was absolute torture. It was unprofessional to bring a sick kid to work, but she had no other options if she wanted to be finished in time for Christmas. She needed to see Nick’s expression, to read those blue eyes of his. What was he thinking? She waited, blindly, for his answer.
“Do you feel you’d be able to work and tend to him at the same time? Would that be too much on you?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Then bring him.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice giving away her relief.
“You’re welcome.”
Feeling the stress of the situation lift off her shoulders, she ended the call and headed back to Max’s room. He was sitting up in bed, nibbling a cracker. She smiled. “Hi, sweet pea. Your tummy doing okay?”
He nodded.
She climbed into the bed with him and pulled the covers around his waist as he sat beside her. “Want to know something?”
He nodded again, a few cracker crumbs falling into his lap.
“You are going to get to see a real mansion today. And, the floors are so shiny that you can ice skate in your socks if you want to. Do you think you’re up for going?”
His face showed about as much excitement as a sick child could muster. “That sounds like fun!”
“Well, let’s get all packed up, then! I’ll grab your sleeping bag in case you get tired.” She rummaged around in his closet and pulled out the bedding, neatly rolled and secured with a handle. “Do you want to bring a few toys?” She handed him a bag. “You choose what you want to bring and I’ll get some clothes for you.”
* * *
“Whoa, how many people live here?” Max said, perking up more than he had in the last few days. They rounded the great drive that took them past the James River and up to the house.
Abbey looked over at her son. “One,” she said, glad to see how excited he was. Perhaps getting out would be good for him.
“One person lives here? Why?” He looked back at the house.
With her free hand, she reached over to smooth Max’s hair, which had popped back up despite her many attempts to comb it down this morning. “The man who lives here doesn’t have a whole lot of family close by and he lives by himself. His name is Mr. Sinclair, but I call him Nick.” She realized only then that she didn’t know if she should call him Nick, and she couldn’t remember if she’d ever addressed him as such, but in her mind, that’s what she’d called him.