“Hey Zo-ster!” I exclaimed loudly when I saw my daughter in the doorway to the kitchen. She was wearing her school’s uniform, a blue pleated skirt, a white blouse with a blue sweater vest over it which had her school’s emblem embroidered in the right upper corner. “How are you feeling today, sweetheart?”
I let go of the newspaper that I was holding and pressed my right hand against her forehead when she sat down at the table. She was a little pale, which I didn’t like, but her face was cool.
Clare put a bowl of Cheerios in front of her and kissed her forehead. Zoë reached for her spoon and allowed her mother to touch her cheeks to check for any remaining signs of a fever that I might have missed.
“Gone, right?” I confirmed.
Clare nodded and sat down at the head of the table across from me. She was getting in her breakfast early, it was only eight in the morning, before the other three munchkins woke up. She grabbed for her own spoon for her cereal. I grabbed the newspaper again and started reading the sports section once again. “Looks like the Mets traded Leiter.”
“What?” Clare exclaimed.
I nodded. “He’s a Diamondback now.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Who’s Leiter?” Zoë questioned.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, honey,” Clare scolded.
“Who’s Leiter?” Zoë asked again when she swallowed her food.
“He throws balls for Daddy’s favorite team.”
“Ohhh.”
I picked up my coffee mug and took a large sip before deciding I needed a fresh cup. Before I could ask, my wife grabbed the mug and filled it up. I looked up at her from over the paper and grinned, “you know me too well.”
Clare laughed and sat back down. “So, Zoë, are you sure you’re feeling better honey? Taylor, did Zoë tell you that her and I had so much fun yesterday?”
I glanced at my daughter, “no she didn’t. Zoë what did Mommy and you do yesterday while Daddy was at his office?”
“Mommy read to me and made me soup and then we talked to Aunt Andy on the phone.”
“Wow! What a great day!” I said enthusiastically.
Zoë nodded. “Mommy let me sleep really late.”
“Really? Till what time?”
“Nine!”
I smiled. Zoë was up at seven each morning for school, nine did seem like a late
time for someone who had to be up with the sun each winter morning. “What else did Mommy let you do?”
“Mommy let me watch TV. Pooh was on!”
“Aw man, you mean we miss Winnie each morning while we’re at school?”
Zoë nodded. “But I saw it already, so did you, so we’re not missing anything new.”
“Good,” I agreed. I leaned closer to my daughter, “because I’d be really angry if I found out that we were missing a new episode.”
“So would I,” Zoë agreed eagerly.
“Don’t get her riled up, Taylor,” Clare warned me quietly.
I smiled and shrugged at my wife. “We’re calm, right Zo?” I looked at the clock and put my newspaper down on the table. “Ready for school, Zoë?” I asked her.
Zoë took one last look at her mother before nodding at me. She stood slowly and
pushed her chair back under the table. She reached down and put her school bag over her shoulder. I noticed that she was doing everything slowly and carefully.
I narrowed my eyebrows. “Honey, does your ear still hurt?”
Zoë shook her head. “My head hurts.”
“Aw baby,” Clare gushed. She stood and walked to the counter, grabbing a spoon from the drawer. She reached for a prescribed bottle of liquid medicine that was on the counter and filled the spoon with it. Zoë followed her mother, made a face and swallowed the liquid. Zoë hadn’t mentioned how Clare had taken her to the doctor’s office when she woke up the day before. I supposed she wanted to reflect on the good, and not the bad. Fortunately, I had been given a report from my wife when the two of them returned home and relinquished the baby-sitter, Kate, from her hour long baby-duties. Zoë’s pediatrician gave her medicine for an ear infection and told my wife that more than likely the medicine will work very quickly and our daughter would be able to attend school the next day.
And so it did.
I stood up and followed my daughter to the closet for our coats. The weather was dreary, the sky overcast for the third day in a row. The wind was probably blowing in frigid gusts, causing the temperature to feel as if it was below zero. It was definitely a cold winter, no wonder Zoë had gotten sick. I grabbed a scarf from the closet and wrapped it tightly around my neck. Clare was helping Zoë with her coat and her mittens. My wife was kneeling on the floor so that she was Zoë’s height, zippering the girl’s coat up to her chin. Zoë had her backpack shoved over her jacket, and her lunchbox in one hand. I smiled at the sight as I stood there watching. Clare kissed our daughter’s cheek and handed her off to me. I picked the girl up and held her on my side.
She wrapped her puffy arms around my neck, the lunchbox almost smacking me in the face when she grabbed me. I kissed her nose and shifted her weight so she would be supported on my hip. I leaned over and kissed the now standing Clare. “I’ll be home around three with Zoë,” I told her. “Then I have a meeting at four and then one at six. Don’t hold dinner for me.”
Clare nodded and handed me my keys. “What time do you think it will be over?”
“Late,” I responded, taking my car keys and walking towards the door. “It will
probably be around eight or nine.” I looked at Zoë. “I’ll stop by and tuck you in at nine,” I told my daughter. “We’ll read another Berenstein Bear’s book.” Zoë hugged me tighter, indicating she liked that idea. It was something to look forward to on what would turn out to be a long night. I rarely had to go into my office, but when I did it was usually for hours upon hours. Coming home to a warm house with a family to read to and settle down with was a thought that would definitely keep me going through the boring hours to come.