Teresa found herself frowning as she stepped back from the bed. She was glad, of course, that Maggie felt comfortable with the arrangements and wasn’t putting up a fuss. But Maggie could have shown a little more reluctance to see her go.
Mark was not so happy with the developments. “Maggie gets to stay with Riley? No fair!”
Her purse in her hand, Teresa had let Riley into the apartment. Riley tousled Mark’s hair in response to the boy’s outcry. “I’m only staying with your sister for a little while because she’s sick. It’s not as if we’re going to do anything fun without you.”
“I could stay home and help you take care of Maggie.”
Keeping his expression straight, Riley replied, “Thanks, buddy, but I can handle it. I’d hate for you to miss seeing your friends at school just to sit here and watch me work and Maggie sleep.”
Teresa could see that Mark still wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t have time to argue. It was almost seven forty-five and Mark was supposed to be at school by eight. The luncheon meeting was scheduled from eleven-thirty to one, which meant she could be home by one-thirty at the latest.
“Get in the car, Mark,” she said in her don’t-push-me voice. “Riley, Maggie needs plenty of fluids. You’ll find juice and Sprite in the refrigerator. There are also some flavored ice pops in the freezer if she doesn’t feel like eating anything solid. She can have some children’s acetaminophen if her fever goes back up, but not until ten-thirty. The number at the diner is—”
“I can find the number,” Riley cut in. “You’d better go or Mark will be late for school. Maggie and I will be fine.”
“You’ll call if she wants me?”
“I’ll call. Go.”
She hesitated, searching Riley’s face, and then she moved toward the door. She was coming home the moment she saw that Marjorie could get along without her, she promised herself. And she would make sure she didn’t have to ask Riley for any more favors.
As far as Riley could tell, taking care of a sick child was a snap. Teresa had left more than half an hour ago, and he hadn’t encountered a problem yet. He’d set up his laptop on the coffee table in her living room, his notes scattered around him, the canned soda he’d brought with him at his side. He’d checked on Maggie several times, rousing her once or twice to take a few sips of juice, but she’d gone straight back to sleep each time.
And to think he’d been worried that he couldn’t handle this.
When Marjorie had awakened him at a ridiculously early hour with her phone call, he’d thought she’d lost her mind. “You’re asking me to baby-sit a sick child?”
“Just for a little while,” she’d replied airily. “I really need Teresa at the diner today. I hate to take her away from poor little Maggie even for a short time, but I honestly don’t know how I’ll get through that meeting without her. It’s an election meeting, and you know how crowded those can be. They expect their coffee cups and water glasses to stay filled.”
“So why couldn’t I just come schlep coffee for you?”
“Sorry, dear, I couldn’t afford the lawsuits after you dump hot coffee down a few notable backs. All I’m asking you to do is sit with little Maggie for a couple of hours. Just this once.”
“Does Teresa know you’re calling me?”
“She knows I’m calling someone,” Marjorie prevaricated.
“But not me. She’s not going to like this.”
“I’m sure she’ll agree that it’s a wonderful idea. Maggie knows you and trusts you, and so does Teresa. And you live right next door, so it’s convenient for everyone.”
As stubborn as he could be, Riley had always had a hard time saying no to Marjorie—just like everyone else who knew her. He’d held firm about not letting her play matchmaker for him, but there had been plenty of occasions when he’d found himself going along with some of her schemes. Like today when, somehow, he found himself baby-sitting Teresa’s sick daughter.
It hadn’t been bad so far. No one could have been more surprised than he was, but he’d turned out to have a knack for baby-sitting. Not that he intended to make it a regular practice, of course. But it felt good to know he had another talent.
His somewhat smug reverie was interrupted by a call from upstairs. “Riley.”
“On my way, Mags,” he said, pushing the computer aside. Probably she wanted another drink. Maybe something to eat.
He could handle that. This really was a snap.
The smell hit him the moment he stepped through Maggie’s doorway. Maggie sat in the middle of her bed, her face beet-red, her fuzzy pajamas and bedclothes soiled. “I threw up,” she said, and then burst into noisy tears.
Riley’s stomach gave a lurch, but he forced himself to move forward.
So maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought.
Chapter Nine