Chapter 3 - After Drinking That I Felt Strange
I didn't answer Claire. I didn't pick up the glass either. I just turned with Sophie still locked around my neck and walked down the hallway toward her bedroom.
The wood floor creaked under my shoes and she didn't loosen her grip. Her breathing was quick against my shoulder. Behind me I could hear Claire moving in the kitchen, closing a cabinet, the soft clink of something being set down. She was tidying like nothing had happened, like she hadn't just stood there holding that juice at chest height waiting for one of us to take it.
Sophie's room was bright with the same daylight that came through the rest of the house. The blinds were half open. Her bedsheets were pulled back from where she'd gotten up. I kicked the door half closed with my foot, not all the way, just enough to give us space.
I sat on the edge of her bed with her on my lap. She was still in those pink pajamas with the little dark pattern, her hair falling forward around her face.
"Hey," I said quietly. "You're okay. You're with me."
She nodded against me but didn't let go.
I rubbed her back slowly and waited. I didn't want to push. After a minute she pulled back enough to look at me.
"When did you have some?" I asked. I kept my voice low and even. "Was it last night or this morning?"
She thought for a second, her brow pulling in.
"Last evening," she whispered. "After dinner. You were in the shower."
That fit. Claire had poured me a glass last evening too and I'd left it on the counter. Sophie sometimes took sips of my water or juice when I wasn't looking.
"What did it taste like?" I asked.
She made a face. "Like normal juice but bitter. I only took a little sip."
"And then what happened? Can you show me what strange felt like?"
She leaned her head on my shoulder again. Her voice got smaller.
"My head felt dizzy. Like spinning. My arms and legs felt really heavy. I couldn't keep my eyes open."
My chest tightened. I kept my hand steady on her back.
"Did your tummy hurt?"
"Yes," she said. "I felt really strange. It was awful. I thought I was gonna throw up."
She said those exact words in that same shaky way and I felt her shiver. I held her a little tighter.
"Did you sleep after that?"
She nodded. "I went right to sleep on the couch. Claire said I was just tired."
I looked at her face more carefully then. Her eyes were glassy, not bright the way they usually were in the morning. There was a droop to her eyelids. She was alert enough to talk to me, to remember details, but her reactions were a beat slow.
I put the back of my hand against her forehead, the way I'd done since she was a baby. Warm, but not hot. No fever.
"Can you squeeze my hands?" I asked. I held out both of mine.
She squeezed. Her grip was there, but weak. Like she had to think about it.
"Good. Can you follow my finger with your eyes?" I moved my finger left to right a few inches from her face. Her eyes tracked it, but slowly.
"Soph, are you still feeling dizzy now?"
"A little," she said. "My head feels heavy."
I nodded and brushed her hair back. That's when I saw it on her sleeve. On the left cuff of her pink pajamas, right near her wrist, there was a faint orange mark. Not a big spill. Just a dried edge of residue, a little crust where liquid had soaked and dried. The color was the same opaque orange as the glass in the kitchen.
I touched it lightly with my fingertip. It was a little stiff.
"Did some get on you last night?"
She looked down at it. "I spilled a little on me. I wiped it."
I didn't say anything for a second. I just looked at that small stain and at her pale face and that slow blink she kept doing. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the heater. Down the hall I could hear Claire's footsteps again, moving from the kitchen toward the living room, then back.
I pulled Sophie's little trash can closer and looked inside without making a big deal of it. Just tissues. Nothing else. Then I glanced at her nightstand. Her water cup from last evening was still there, empty, with the same faint orange ring at the bottom.
I lifted it and set it back down gently.
Sophie was watching me.
"Dad, are you gonna drink it?" she asked.
"No," I said. I said it clearly and calmly. "I'm not gonna drink it. And you're not either. We're gonna leave it right where it is."
She let out a breath and her shoulders dropped a fraction.
I checked her forehead again, just to be sure. Still no fever, still that same groggy heaviness. Not sick in the usual way. Something else, and recent.
I stood with her still in my arms and looked toward the hallway. The glass was still out there on the counter. I needed to keep it exactly as it was, untouched, and I needed to figure out what Claire had put in it without tipping her off that I was looking.
May you like
"Let's get you some plain water, okay?" I said. "And we'll stay in here for a few minutes."
Sophie nodded and wrapped her arms around my neck again as I carried her toward her bathroom sink.
