“I don’t feel very well.” Amie had been quiet through this whole exchange. Now she was standing up, holding her belly, looking very queasy. The plate at her feet, the one I had stacked so high in my panic to get her out of the way, was empty. “I’m going to be sick,” she whispered.
“Okay, baby. It’s okay, come with me. Come on.” Damn it. I’d already made Connor angry and Amie sick, and we were still technically on day one of me caring for them. Stellar job, Ophelia. Gangbusters. Seriously. I hurried to the bathroom with Amie, barely getting her there before she vomited all over the tiled floor. She started crying, shivering, her little body shaking as she retched, bringing up a huge amount of food. Her belly must have been stretched way beyond capacity. What a terrible mother I would have made. I scooped her up and held her to me as she slowly began to settle, the shaking growing less and less until she was just lying still in my arms, looking up at me, strands of her dark hair plastered to her forehead. Her eyes were clear, the lightest of blues, so different to Ronan’s. “I feel much better now,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I made a mess.”
“That’s okay, sweetie. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have given you so much to eat, should I? What do you say, you hang out with your brother in his room again while I get this cleared up, and then we can maybe watch a movie or something, huh?” Amie, sweet little Amie, nodded, smiling. I already knew I was never going to get the same easy compliance from her brother. No point in even trying.
While I cleaned up the bathroom, I finally allowed myself to break down. I was in way over my head. On the other side of the country, on a tiny island where I didn’t know a soul, and my boss had just thrown me in at the deep end in the most profound, irreversible way. So unbelievable of him. So unkind. So fucking cruel. Did he really expect me to just float around The Causeway with his two young children in tow, teaching them and playing with them and pretending like nothing had happened? How delusional could one person be?
The letter downstairs. It would shed more light on the matter. I couldn’t face it though. Just couldn’t. Instead, I wiped my eyes, finished mopping up the puke from the floor, and I went and got the kids.
“I don’t care what you want right now, Connor. You can not like me all you want, but your dad left me in charge, and that means you have to do what I say, okay? And we’re going to get dressed and get out of the house. All day. We’re going to find somewhere to eat lunch, and we’re going to explore down by the beach.”
“Yay! The beach!” Amie started dancing around in her camisole and underwear, spinning in a circle with her hands in the air. “I love the beach!”
“It’s too cold.” Connor folded his arms across his chest, chin tilted down, eyes narrowed. He looked like he could have played Damien in the eighties horror movie quite convincingly. “I. Don’t. Want. To. Go.”
“Well. I’m sorry to hear that, buddy, but you don’t have a choice. Now get your shoes on.”
******
Ronan’s car keys were in the ignition of the SUV in the garage. There was an orange Post-it note on the middle of the steering wheel that said, USE THE CAR SEATS on it. Of course I’m going to use the goddamn car seats. Helpful, Ronan. Really fucking helpful. You know what would have been really helpful? You not killing yourself, that’s what.
I screwed the Post -it up and quickly threw it into the glove box.
Connor pulled the most dramatic, unhappy face when I opened up the back seat door for him. “Do I have to sit in the back? Dad normally lets me sit up in the front with him.”
“Sorry, kiddo. There’s a booster back there for you. Amie, look at your car seat. Isn’t it cool?” It was red with green dinosaurs all over it. Amie clapped her hands when she saw it; Connor looked like he wanted to set the entire car on fire. Disgust radiated off him in scorching degrees.
“This is bullshit,” he mumbled under his breath. His eyes flickered to me, his shoulders stiffening as he waited for my reaction. I gave him none, which, by the looks of things, made him really mad.
I’d dealt with enough kids like him at school though, acting out to get attention. If you gave them nothing, they generally learned it was pointless and stopped after a while. Connor’s situation was more complicated, though. He was going to do more than act out when he learned about Ronan. His whole world was going to come crashing down. Again. How the hell was I qualified to handle that?