Nicolai's mom said, "That's not true. Nico had a blast with you tonight. He's sad you're sick. But we want you to get better so you can come over again soon, okay?"
Calder nodded. Then he noticed Jensen.
Jensen crouched down. "Hey, little dude. You ready to go?"
He walked over and set his head on Jensen's shoulder. "I don't feel too good."
"I heard. Hang on." Then Jensen picked my son up as if he carted him around all the time.
Calder snuggled into him.
"Here's his stuff," Gejel said.
I grabbed the backpack and the duffel bag. Good thing I had Jensen's help; I couldn't have carried all of this and Calder and opened all the doors. "Thanks for having him over," I said to Nicolai's parents.
In the hallway, I said, "Do you want me to carry him?"
He pierced me with that "Are you serious?" dark look as his answer.
I had walked ahead with the key card to open the door to our building when I heard retching. I whirled around to see vomit splattering on the pavement behind Jensen. My gaze moved from my son's back as he heaved over Jensen's shoulder, to Jensen's face-or rather his profile, as his focus was on Calder.
"Set him down."
"In a second." Jensen rubbed Calder's back. He murmured, "You okay?"
Calder threw up again.
I stomped closer. "Give him to me."
Very calmly, Jensen said, "I've got him. I think it'd be best if one of us wasn't covered in it."
Oh no. "He . . . it . . . got you?"
"Down the back of my shirt and my legs."
Now I felt ill.
Calder heaved again.
Jensen kept running his hand up and down Calder's back, murmuring to him.
And Calder didn't fight to get down.
I stood by, feeling helpless.
Several long minutes passed with no additional heaving.
Jensen looked at me and said, "We're good to go."
I unlocked the building door and held it open. Jensen chose the stairs and I followed behind him, wanting to see how covered he was.
Oh yeah. His back and his pants were a mess.
When we reached my apartment, Jensen said, "Where do you want him?"
"Bathroom."
He lowered him to the floor, by the toilet. Then he stepped back. "I'm going to my place for a quick shower and change of clothes. Leave your door unlocked, so I can come back."
I'd crouched next to Calder, who'd closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the bathtub. "That's okay. You've already gone above and beyond-"
"I'm coming back," he repeated. "Don't shut me out. Please."
This man. I couldn't wrap my head around this side of him. He continually surprised me. "Okay."
He sent me a relieved look, and then he left the bathroom.
Calder stirred and blinked at me groggily. "Mommy?"
"I'm here. How's your tummy?"
"It hurts. It's all jumpy inside."
Poor baby. I pressed my hand to his forehead. Clammy, but not overly hot. I pushed his bangs out of his eyes. "What can I get for you?"
"Gonna be-"
I had him over the toilet before he finished the sentence.
He'd hit the dry-heave stage. Hopefully that meant his stomach was about to settle down. I managed to get him undressed. Then I wet a washcloth and sat him on the edge of the tub and gently wiped him down.
The floor creaked and I glanced over my shoulder to see a freshly showered Jensen leaning against the doorjamb. "What do you need?"
Calder blinked at him with confusion.
I said, "Clean pajamas would be good. There's some on top of Calder's dresser."
"I don't wanna wear pajamas. I'm hot," Calder said crossly, and shivered.
"How about just a T-shirt?" Jensen said diplomatically.
"SpongeBob," Calder insisted.
"On it."
The T-shirt lasted only a few moments before Calder started throwing up again.
This episode had gone beyond excitement to some kind of stomach bug. I rummaged in the medicine chest but didn't see any of my usual over-the-counter fixes. Pepto-Bismol always worked and Calder willingly took it, which was half the battle.
"Mommy, I want to lay down. The light is bright and it's hurting my eyes."
"I can cover your eyes with a washcloth, but until I'm sure you won't get sick in your bed, we'll have to stay in the bathroom."
Calder dropped to the floor and curled himself around me. His body was hot and it hadn't felt that way twenty minutes ago. Dammit. I should've grabbed the thermometer.
Jensen said, "What do you need?"
"There's a thermometer on the bottom shelf of the medicine cabinet."