A Second Chance
Page 17

Eighty-seven dollars later, he was back on the road toward her house.
Carlos gathered the bags of items he’d purchased and walked to the front door. He looked around the yard. No one had cleaned up the leaves from the fall, and he wondered if that bastard ex-husband of hers had even bothered to turn off the sprinklers before he abandoned her. A branch was breaking on the tree near the bedroom window. That would need to be cut down before it broke a window. He’d make a list, and he and the boys would take care of it.
He rang the doorbell, stood, and waited. There had never been a day since he’d moved out of the house that it didn’t feel odd to stand there and wait for someone to answer.
She didn’t come to the door.
Carlos rang the bell and then pounded on the screen door. Still there was no answer. He walked to the garage and peered in the window. Her car was there. She must be inside.
He set the bags on the porch and again rang the bell. When she didn’t come, he took out his keys. It was a long shot, but he’d never taken the house key off his ring. Surely Matt had changed the locks. He slid the key into the lock and turned.
The door opened.
“Maddie! Maddie! Where are you?”
He stood for a moment and then he could hear her. She was in the bathroom and she was getting sick, again.
He dropped the bags at the door and went to her.
He kept calling her name so he wouldn’t frighten her. When he found her, she was sprawled on the floor of the bathroom in her robe. Her arms and head rested on the side of the bathtub.
“Maddie.”
“Carlos, go home.” She crawled toward the toilet. The movements were there, the noise was there, but she had nothing to throw up. Carlos gathered her in his arms and carried her to her bedroom. She was so weak she didn’t argue with him.
“What are you doing here? You should be at work.” Her voice was weak and that didn’t settle with him.
He needed to call work.
“I got you some stuff. I’ll be right back.” He grabbed the small trash can she kept by the bedside and set it next to her.
He called the school and convinced them he was sick, but the principal wasn’t happy and made it perfectly clear.
He carried the bags to her room and found her sleeping. That had to be a positive, he thought. At least she was getting some rest and had stopped heaving.
The best thing for him to do was to make himself at home and do what he could for her while she slept. He brewed a pot of coffee, did the breakfast dishes, and mopped up the bathroom. If she was going to be spending time on the floor, it’d better be clean.
He’d finished his conference notes by the time he heard her stirring in her room, and he went to her.
He carried in a tray with the soup he’d found in the fridge, some tea, and a few ginger pills. He set it on her nightstand and turned on the small lamp. “Are you feeling any better?”
“My stomach is sore.”
“I’ll bet.” He closed the blind so that the light was soft. “Is that okay?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
“Let’s get you situated.” He gathered her into his arms, and she clung to him. For a moment he held on to the feeling of her near him. He knew it was for strength, but a part of him felt a deeper connection.
He arranged pillows until she could sit up against them.
He handed her the pills and a glass of water. “Here, it’s ginger. Curtis says to take them and they’ll help with the nausea.”
She nodded and took the pills.
Carlos kicked off his shoes, picked up the bowl he’d carried in, and walked around the other side of the bed. Careful not to spill the contents of the bowl, he scooted across the mattress until he sat next to her. “Let’s get something in your belly.”
“Carlos, I can’t eat,” she said weakly.
“You need to try. You’re not going to fight off anything if you don’t keep up your strength.”
He lifted the spoon to her lips, and she slurped then laid her head back on the pillow.
“Try some more.” He lifted the spoon to her lips again and she took another sip. “Okay, now we’re making progress.”
This time when she laid her head back, it rested on his shoulder. Instinctively he kissed her forehead.
“So he told you I was sick? I asked him not to.”
“Ed? No, he kept your secret.”
Madeline turned her eyes up at him. “How did you know?”
“Christian called me from the school office because he was so worried about you.” Gently he tilted her face with his fingers and looked down into her eyes. “You’re not doing yourself any favors by having Ed lie to me about your condition.”
“I didn’t tell him to lie. I just told him to tell you I was okay. Which I am, by the way.”
“No, you’re not. When is your next doctor appointment?”
“Tomorrow.”
“I’m taking you.”
Madeline tried to sit up and turn away from him, but Carlos guided her back to his shoulder. Then he lifted the spoon of soup back to her lips and she took another sip.
“You need to be at work. You worked too damn hard to get that job. You’d better keep it,” she argued.
“For your sake I will. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have the education to even have the job. But for once in your life, admit you need some help.”
She sat silently for a moment. “This was never supposed to happen.” He heard the quiver in her voice and then felt her body shake as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’ve never been sick a day in my life.”
“I know, honey.” He set the bowl of soup on the other nightstand and gathered her in his arms and held her against his chest.
“Look at me. I’m a mess. My skin is pasty, my boobs are missing, and now my hair is falling out in clumps.” She threw a hand in the air. “My husband left me and is marrying someone else…”
“Wait.” He adjusted to see her better. “Matt is getting married?”
She nodded. “And she’s pregnant.”
“Son of a bitch!” His hand formed into a fist at his side. If it were any other time, he’d have found a wall to put a hole in, but as it was he gritted his teeth. “He was having an affair?”
She nodded again. “It doesn’t matter.” She adjusted to rest against him again.