desertion

82

EDDIE

I pushed open the door to our house, stepping aside to let Buck guide Lydia inside. She was clearly exhausted, her movements sluggish as she swayed on her feet. Buck kept a steadying hand on her arm, his concern evident.

In the living room, my parents sat on the couch, the television at a low volume. Christopher was nestled between them, engrossed in a cartoon. At the sound of the door, Mom looked up and immediately stood, her gaze landing on Lydia.

"She doesn't look good," she said, her voice tinged with concern.

I nodded, sighing. "Yeah, I can see that." I glanced toward Christopher, giving him a small smile. "Thank you for watching him."

Christopher's face lit up as he scrambled off the couch. He rushed to Lydia's side, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

"Careful," Buck cautioned softly, watching as Lydia smiled down at Christopher.

Despite her exhaustion, Lydia crouched down-though she wobbled dangerously-and cupped Christopher's face gently in her hands. She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, her tired smile reassuring.

Christopher beamed up at her. "Can you hear me?" He asked hopefully.

Buck shook his head, answering for her. "Not yet, buddy. Her hearing's still gone, but it'll come back soon."

Christopher's face fell, a frown replacing his earlier excitement. "Okay," he said softly, his disappointment clear. He hugged Lydia again, holding her tightly for a moment before stepping back and returning to his spot on the couch.

Buck helped Lydia stand, steadying her as she swayed once more. Mom stepped closer, a warm smile on her face.

"Hi, Mija," she said, pulling Lydia into a gentle hug. She pressed a kiss to the top of Lydia's head before pulling back.

Lydia blinked up at her, confusion flickering across her face, but she didn't protest. Instead, she leaned into the affection, her tired expression softening with quiet contentment.

"She needs to rest some more," Buck said, his voice firm but kind.

"Of course," Mom replied, stepping back to give them space.

Buck led Lydia down the hall to her room while I stayed behind, turning to Christopher.

"How was your day, bud?" I asked, sitting down beside him on the couch.

Christopher grinned, launching into a story about the games he'd played and the snacks he'd eaten with my parents. I listened intently, my heart warming at the sound of his excitement.

Dad cleared his throat, drawing my attention. "What did the doctor say about her seizures?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "They think it's electrolyte imbalance again," I admitted, frustration creeping into my voice.

Mom frowned, crossing her arms. "I thought you were making sure she was drinking enough water."

"I was," I replied, shaking my head. "I don't get it. I've been watching her closely-it doesn't make sense."

Dad gave a slow nod, his expression thoughtful. "It'll work out," he said firmly. "Lydia's a strong girl. She always has been."

I glanced at him, surprised by the support. Mom and Dad weren't always the most encouraging when it came to Lydia, but this time, they seemed to be on her side.

I nodded, turning my attention back to the television. For once, I felt a small sense of relief. We were all in this together, and that made all the difference.