Page 65 of Under Ground

“I’m sure Alex is fine. Come on, I’ll pop this shirt on and then I’ll go make us both a hot chocolate and we can watch TV.”

An hour later, she’s snoozing against me. My headache’s still there, but it’s eased a little, and being home with her is such a big comfort.

Alex.

That whole situation doesn’t feel any better, but I’ve got other things to worry about now.

I miss you.

17

Lana

The following morning is a different story.

Casey’s cries wake me. It’s the weirdest feeling when I’ve spent the past year with her sleeping well. She wasn’t the best sleeper until she was two, but being sick seems to have wrecked that for the moment.

“Ohh, don’t scratch, baby.” I race into the room and pull her hand from her face. Her spots have tripled overnight, and she’s got a healthy dose of them down her neck and disappearing into her pyjamas.

Her bottom lip juts out.

“I’ll go and get something to stop them from itching. Okay?”

“I want Daddy.” Her lower lip trembles, and big fat tears roll down her face.

I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath. We’ve been miserable these past few days. Alex will be on the verge of leaving the country—for all I know, he could have already gone.

But we’re not together anymore.

“Daddy,” she wails.

I walk out of the room and into the bathroom to get a bottle of calamine and some cotton wipes. Pausing in front of the mirror, I sigh and rub my face with my palms. I slept fairly well overnight, but my tired eyes make me feel like I’ve barely slept at all. Gritting my teeth, I return to her bedside. I know she’s upset, but I can’t do this today.

Opening up her pyjama top, I tip some calamine onto the cotton and smooth it over her spots. They’re everywhere. How on earth did they spread from a handful the day before to this?

She’s still squawking about Alex as I cover her front and then her back. I make sure her neck and the couple of spots she has on her face are covered before I pull down her pyjama pants and wince at how many more spots she has.

“Oh, Casey. You poor thing.”

“You put the medicine on the spots, Mummy?”

I nod. “Yes, sweetheart. I’ll put the medicine on the spots and stop them from itching.”

She rubs her eyes. “I want Daddy.”

“You got me. Let’s get these covered.”

Swiping her spots with the calamine, I ignore her grizzles. I’m at my limit for patience as my head throbs and sweat pours off me.

“Daddy,” she says for a hundredth time.

I’m so over that word. I could live to be a hundred and never want to hear it again.

“Alex is not your daddy, Casey,” I snap.

My stomach churns even before she lets out a long screech.

I clutch my head in my hands. If I was well, I’d handle this better. But I’m such a mess, I can’t even hold it together for my little girl.