揌ey,?I greet him. 揂aron抯 still at football practice, Brayden rode his bike to his friend抯 house when I got here, and Spencer抯 up in his room. Your food抯 over there桽pencer and I already ate梙e was starving.?
He brings his Styrofoam container to the table and I sit down next to him.
揥hat抎 you two end up getting??he asks.
揑 got shrimp empanadas and Spencer got chicken empanadas. I accidentally put my plate in front of him at first.?
Connor stops mid chew. 揌e didn抰 eat any, did he??
揙nly one bite. He realized it and棓
Connor bolts for the stairs, taking them two at a time.
I run up behind him and when he opens Spencer抯 bedroom door and stops short, I bump into his back.
揌ey Dathd.?
It抯 sounds like Spencer . . . but something抯 wrong with his voice.
Very, very wrong.
揙h, man,?Connor groans.
Then he drops to his knees in front of his son, giving me an unobstructed view of Spencer抯 face.
I suck in a gasp條ong and loud梒overing my horrified mouth.
Because the little boy抯 lips are twice their size and his eyes look like he went a few rounds with Rocky Balboa in his Clubber Lang prime.
I shove in beside Connor, dropping to my knees.
揂re you having any trouble breathing, Spencer??
Connor takes Spencer抯 pulse. 揢sually his tongue and lips swell up but not his throat.?
揓ust because he hasn抰 developed anaphylaxis before doesn抰 mean he won抰。？
揑抦 aware,?Connor replies, his voice confoundingly steady.
Does he not see his kid抯 face?
揘ah, I cath breath othay. My thungs jus a lithel puthy.?
Jesus. Connor entrusted me with his children and I broke one.
For the first time in my life, I understand the concept of self-flagellation. Because the depth of my guilt is so instant and bottomless, I want someone to punish me harshly, hurt me deeply梚f only to relieve my crushing self-blame.
揗y bag抯 in the closet by the front door, Vi. Can you grab it for me??Connor asks, checking Spencer抯 arms and chest for hives or a rash, but his skin is clear.
揧eah.?And I抦 sprinting for the steps.
When I round the corner back toward the bedroom with Connor抯 black physician抯 bag in my hands, I hear Spencer and Connor talking.
揂re you gontha gith me Benthadil??
揑抦 going to give you a shot of Benadryl this time, buddy.?Connor says.
揂 thot? Thots thuck.?
揑 know, but a shot will work faster and you抮e swelling up like the blueberry girl in Willie Wonka.?
I hand Connor his bag and he takes Spencer抯 blood pressure梬hich is normal.
My voice is pleading and repentant as I crouch down on my knees.
揋od, Spencer, I am sorry.?
揑th o-thay, Thi梱ou didnth know.?
Connor opens the sterile packaging of a syringe and inserts it through the cap of the brown glass vial of diphenhydramine.
揝pence, why didn抰 you tell Violet you抮e allergic to shrimp when you ate the empanada??
He shrugs, toddling his swollen little head.
揑 didnth wanth Thi to theel badth. And I thoughth maythee I outhgrew ith.?
Connor shakes his head. 揑t抯 not the kind of allergy you outgrow梬e talked about this.?
揟hough it theems.?
Suddenly Aaron抯 standing in the bedroom doorway, swallowing a gulp of water from a bottle and assessing the situation.
揝hrimp??he asks his dad.
揝hrimp,?his father confirms.
揘ice face, dweeble.?
Spencer sticks his tongue out at his brother. At least I think he does梙is engorged lips and inflated tongue make it difficult to tell.
After Connor gives Spencer the shot, I leave the bedroom so Spence can get into his pajamas. When Connor comes downstairs, I抦 in the living room, in a tight ball of remorse on the couch, gnawing at my fingernails. Rosie lies beside me, her golden eyes brimming with human-like sympathy I don抰 deserve.
揌ow is he??I ask, prepared to whisk Spencer away to the hospital in my own two arms if needed梖aster than the Flash ever could.
He sits next to me, his firm thigh pressing against mine. 揌e抯 fine. The swelling抯 gone down and he抯 asleep.?
My throat tightens anyway and my eyes ache with hot, unspent tears.
揑抦 so sorry.?
揤i, he抯 fine. It抯 not your fault.?
He says it in that final, definitive way like it抯 true條ike he believes it.
揌ow can you be so calm about this??
Connor shrugs.
揑 have three kids. After the first one, you learn pretty fast that certain things are just not in your control. They fall down, they get sick, they have allergic reactions. The good news is, they also bounce, heal, and recover pretty quickly.?
He puts his arm around me and I press my face into the soft cotton of his T-shirt, letting his warmth and scent surround me.
揃esides,?Connor says, 揑抦 the one who didn抰 tell you about Spencer抯 allergy. If you抮e going to be upset with anyone, it should be me.?
I wipe my eyes. 揑 want a complete medical history on each of them.?
He chuckles.
揑抦 serious. Blood types, broken bones, allergies, surgeries, serious illnesses梩he full monty.?
揧ou got it.?Connor presses a kiss to my forehead.
Then he slides his arm off my shoulders and rests his hand on my knee. With his other hand he picks up his phone, pulls up his contacts, and I see STACEY across the screen before he brings it to his ear.
揌ey, it抯 me. I wanted to let you know Spencer might not be up to going out with you tomorrow.?
He pauses and I hear the sound of her voice on the other end梩oo muffled to make out her words or tone.
I haven抰 given much thought to her in these last few months梩he woman that Connor was married to for fourteen years梞ostly because she抯 barely a presence in his life.
It reminds me of how it was for us when my dad would come and go. We抎 gotten so used to living without him that nothing really changed for us whether he was around or not. It wasn抰 traumatic or upending, we just kept on keeping on.
揑 realize that,?Connor says evenly. 揌e ate some shrimp. No梙e抯 okay梑ut he抣l probably still be out of it tomorrow from the antihistamine.?
Stacey is supposed to get the boys every other weekend, but Connor told me it抯 never been a rigid routine. In the last year her visitation has whittled down to only a Saturday or Sunday afternoon. Sometimes she cancels and when she doesn抰， Connor feels that the boys are old enough to decide for themselves if they want to spend time with her or not. Recently, especially with Aaron and Brayden, it抯 been a not.
揑t抯 a long story . . . ?he says.
Connor抯 told me they met in college, got married after graduation, had Aaron when Connor was in medical school. She was a stay-at-home mom and wasn抰 a fan of his work hours, and when things ended it wasn抰 exactly amicable.
?. . . there was a mix-up with his food and he got shrimp empanadas by mistake.?
Connor leaves out that Spencer got the empanadas from me. Someone he抯 seeing, someone he抯 in a relationship with, his girlfriend.
揧eah, I know that. Fine. I抣l have him call you in the morning when he wakes up.?
The omission doesn抰 worry me, there are reasons梫alid reasons條ike that they抮e not on friendly terms and she doesn抰 seem to be someone Connor is eager to share his personal life with. Or maybe he just doesn抰 want the first mention of me to be in connection with the fact that I poisoned their child.
揙kay. Bye.?
But still . . . I can抰 help but notice.
*
Two weeks after what is now branded in my mind as the Taco Saturday from Hell, Connor and I have plans to meet up with a group of people from work at a bar called The Piano Man.