We get settled at the table, quietly eating our food. Well, most of us are quiet. Carson is wiggling in his seat as always and humming a song he probably made up. Just as he goes to take a big bite, he stops and looks at Nicole.
“Why you hurt, NicNic?”
My heart squeezes with hurt as I watch his wide, innocent eyes take in her appearance. I wonder what conclusions his little mind is coming to and if this is the first of many times he will learn that life is sometimes cruel. I hate that. I hate that at just three years old he’s already seeing the reality of how ugly people can be to each other.
Nicole puts down her spoon and turns all her attention on him. “There was a very bad man who hurt me. But I’m okay, buddy.”
“A bad man?”
“Yes. But he’s veeeery far away. And he can’t hurt me anymore. The police took him and I’m safe now.”
That’s not totally accurate, but I appreciate her trying to give him truthful information without making him scared.
“Chase took bad man?”
I smile at how his little brain immediately thinks of his favorite Paw Patrol character as the policeman who saved the day. Nicole smiles, too and I’m glad to see she can find some amusement in all this.
“Yep. Chase helped me and now everything is okay.”
Carson thinks hard for a few seconds before nodding once and shoving more oatmeal in his mouth.
I smirk and turn to my sister. “Paw Patrol for the win.”
She giggles and I love hearing that sound. To me, it means she’s on the road to healing. Physically and mentally.
“Um… has mom called?” My sister looks up at me, her eyes practically begging me to tell her what she wants to hear. But I can’t be honest and make her feel better at the same time.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry.”
Tears fill her eyes but she quickly blinks them away. “Well, I guess that’s our answer, isn’t it?”
I grab her hand and squeeze, understanding how hard it is when our mother makes her rejection clear. In my case, however, I got Carson out of the deal. Nicole has just been left on her own with nothing to cling to.
As it turns out, I was the second phone call Nicole made after arriving at the hospital. The first was to our mother who hurried to the ER like any good mother would. When she got there, however, and heard Nicole’s claims, her immediate response was to tell my honest-to-the-bone sister to stop making up stories that could ruin lives.
I wasn’t there when it happened but heard all about it from my sister when I tried to call mom to keep her updated. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. Blaming me for getting pregnant is one thing. Blaming Nicole for getting beat up by her boyfriend is a whole different level of low, even for our mother.
She hasn’t tried to make contact since she was escorted out of the room by the caseworker who was less than thrilled about mom’s lack of support.
Now, we’re on our own. And as glad as I am that I can be here to support Nicole, I admit to feeling some nerves about having another mouth to feed. I could pull Carson out of daycare, but Heath is still the one fronting that bill so it won’t make any difference. Plus, Nicole is in no physical shape to care for a toddler. It’ll all work out somehow, I just don’t have any idea how at this point.
A knock at the door has us shaking off the moment, grateful for a distraction. I leave the two of them to finish their breakfast and go to answer the door. Looking through the peephole, I’m surprised by who I see on the other side.
Pulling the door open, my surprise bleeds through. “Paul?”
“Hi.” His voice is quiet and if I’m hearing it correctly, tinged with a bit of humility.
“What are you doing here?”
“I talked to Lauren last night.”
“Ah.” I should have guessed she would end up at the bar at some point and she’s never been one to hold her tongue.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you have bigger issues right now than me and my fear of failure.”
That is not what I expected him to say. Not only did he just admit the fight we had stems from something deeper than just a misunderstanding, but he’s pushing it aside until the more important issues can be fixed. I hate that it makes me want to forgive him, but there it is. And yet, he’s not done.
“I brought some supplies.” He holds up some canvas grocery sacks I hadn’t noticed until now. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I hope it takes some of the pressure off while you sort out, well, whatever.”
Stunned by his thoughtfulness, although I probably shouldn’t be surprised since he tends to be a thoughtful guy, I wave him in. He continues to ramble on about what he brought.
“I brought mostly pantry stuff that wouldn’t go bad.” He places the bags on the couch and begins riffling through them. “Um, I found some little graham cracker bites that are shaped like Paw Patrol characters. I figured Carson would get a kick out of that. And since he likes puzzles, I picked up a new one so he would have something to do if you need him to be entertained while you sort out stuff. Oh, this needs to go in the fridge. It’s a little Paw Patrol snack pack with cheese and grapes and stuff in it.”
I take it from him when he hands it to me, moved by how sweet it was for him to focus more on Carson being taken care of than me. It’s like he knows if my child is okay, I will be, too.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “He’s going to love all of it.”
Shoving his hands in his front pockets, Paul opens his mouth to say something, but Carson takes that exact moment to race into the room and head straight for our guest.
“Paw! Paw!” he yells and wraps his arms around Paul’s legs for a hug. Without hesitation, Paul picks him up and wraps his arms tightly around Carson’s little body.
“Hey, bud. How are you? Are you being good for mommy?”
Carson pulls away and begins babbling like only he can. “NicNic here and Chase take bad man away.”
Paul looks at me with confusion. “Chase what? Was that an episode of…”
I don’t have to look behind me to know my sister just came into the room. It’s clear by the look on Paul’s face he’s putting everything together—my sudden disappearance, Lauren’s refusal to share information, why our fight is the least of my concerns.
To his credit, he very quickly schools his features and makes no move to touch her. It’s like he’s consciously making sure he doesn’t scare her with sudden movements and noises.
“I assume you’re who this little guy calls NicNic.” Paul presses his fingers into Carson’s tummy, making him squeal with delight, and again I appreciate that he’s pretending to be nonchalant, even though I can see the rage in his eyes.
My sister clears her throat before speaking. She’s been doing that a lot. I assume her throat must be hurting if Jeremy squeezed her neck at all, but I haven’t been brave enough to ask yet.
“That’s me. Most people just call me Nicole, though.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Nicole. Will you be staying with Kiersten for a while?”
The question seems innocent, but I can read between the lines. He wants to make sure she’s out of a bad situation and safe now.