“Okay,” Kim said. “Just let me know when you want something.”
It was dark by the time Kim turned into Tracy’s street and pulled to the curb at the base of her lawn. He got out and went around to the passenger side to open Becky’s door. Becky had herself wrapped up inside a blanket so that it formed a hood over the top of her head.
Kim helped his daughter out of the car and up the walkway to the front door. She’d spent the entire day on the family-room couch in front of the TV. Kim rang the bell and waited. Tracy opened it and started to say hello to her daughter. She stopped in mid-sentence and frowned.
“What’s the blanket for?” she asked. Her eyes shot to Kim for an explanation and then back to Becky. “Come in!”
Becky stepped inside. Kim followed. Tracy closed the door.
“What’s going on?” Tracy asked. She turned back the edge of the blanket from Becky’s face. “You’re pale. Are you sick?”
Single tears formed in the corners of Becky’s eyes. Tracy saw them and immediately enveloped her daughter in a protective hug. As she did so, she locked eyes with Kim.
“She’s feeling a little punk,” Kim admitted defensively.
Tracy pushed Becky out to arm’s length so she could again look at her face. Becky wiped her eyes. “You’re very pale,” Tracy said. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s just a minor GI upset,” Kim interjected. “Probably just a touch of food poisoning. At least that was the opinion of a pediatric resident I spoke with.”
“If it’s so minor, why is she so pale?” Tracy questioned. Tracy put her hand to Becky’s forehead.
“She doesn’t have a fever,” Kim said. “Just some cramps and diarrhea.”
“Have you given her anything?” Tracy asked.
“Sure,” Kim said. “She’s had Pepto-Bismol, and when that didn’t seem to do the trick, I gave her some Imodium.”
“Did it help?” Tracy asked.
“Some,” Kim said.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Becky said.
“Okay, dear,” Tracy said. “You go on upstairs. I’ll be up in a minute.”
Becky hoisted the edge of her blanket and hurried up the stairs.
Tracy turned to Kim. Her face was flushed. “My God, Kim! You’ve only had her for less than forty-eight hours and she’s sick. What did you do with her?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Kim said.
“I should have known better than to leave town,” Tracy snapped.
“Oh, come off it,” Kim said, becoming angry himself. “Becky could have gotten sick whether you left town or not. In fact if she’s got a virus, she could easily have contracted it before the weekend when you were here.”
“I thought you said it was food poisoning,” Tracy said.
“That was just a statistical guess by a pediatric resident,” Kim said.
“Did Ginger make food this weekend?” Tracy asked.
“As a matter of fact she did,” Kim said. “She made a wonderful chicken dinner last night.”
“Chicken!” Tracy exclaimed. “I could have guessed. That must have been it.”
“So you’re already blaming Ginger,” Kim said mockingly. “You really dislike her, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t dislike her,” Tracy said. “Not anymore. At this point, I’m indifferent to her. But the fact of the matter is, she’s young and undoubtedly hasn’t had much experience in the kitchen. Those of us who have, know that you have to be very careful with chicken.”
“You think you know everything,” Kim said. “Well, for your information Becky hardly touched the chicken. Besides, she’d been feeling punk since Saturday morning. That means that if she’s got a touch of food poisoning, then she got it from the Onion Ring out on Prairie Highway, the place that your new boyfriend bragged to Becky that he owned.”
Tracy reached around Kim and opened the door. “Goodnight, Kim!” she said sharply.
“There’s something else I’d like to say,” Kim spat. “I resent you implying to Becky that I’m some kind of ogre for encouraging her to compete in the Nationals.”
“I never made a value judgment about your wishes for our daughter,” Tracy said. “When Becky informed me of her reluctance to face that kind of competition, I supported her. I also told her that you might try to change her mind. That was all I said.”