My Life As A Dad [COMPLETED]

Chapter Eighteen

When I woke up the next morning, Wendy wasn't next to me. Which isn't a surprise because she gets up before me, but she was actually in my bathroom. She's never in my bathroom, she says it's gross and always smells disgusting.

But I can hear her retching and gagging and choking.

"Baby? You alright?" I asked, getting out of bed.

"Fine." She said.

I walked into the bathroom and was hit with the smell of vomit.

Wendy was leaned over the toilet, vomiting her guts out, to the point of dry heaving.

I went to sit beside her when she started vomiting again, but I could see it this time. It was a thick yellow mucus, it actually wanted to make me vomit.

"Go away." She muttered, pushing me away.

"Not going anywhere." I said, rubbing her back.

"Dad it's hot in here." She said.

"Take your shirt off if you want." I said.

"No." She whined.

"It's not like you haven't walked around the house without a shirt before." I said, not really knowing what the problem was.

"I'm not wearing a bra." She mumbled.

"I'll go grab you one. And some water." I said and got up.

I went across the hall to her room and went through her dresser. I found a sports bra and grabbed that, then went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

I went back to my bathroom, handed her the things, and left until she said I could come in.

"I take it Taco Bell didn't agree with you?" I asked.

She turned and gave me this stone cold glare.

"Okay." I said, holding my hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry daddy. I don't feel good." She mumbled.

"I know honey. Let's get you into bed and I'll get some stuff for you." I said and helped her up.

I took her to my bed and laid her down. I went back to the bathroom to grab her water, the trashcan and a wet wash cloth.

"You lay down and text me if you need anything. You wanna watch a movie or something?" I asked.

"Sherlock." She mumbled.

"Okay." I said and turned on Netflix. I put on Sherlock and walked out of the room.

"She okay?" Kenny asked when I got to the livingroom.

"Taco Bell doesn't like her." I said.

"I don't think she felt well when we were at dinner last night. She picked around at her food quite a bit." Dallon said while scrolling through his phone.

"My poor child. She hasn't been sick in years, this must be hell for her." I mumbled and sat in the recliner.

"I wish I could do something." I said.

"I feel like that when Dean is sick. Since he's only a baby his coping mechanism is crying and if he's sick for too long, it gets old." Kenny said.

I heard shuffling coming from the hall. They're really light, so that means Wendy is coming out.

"What're you doing out of bed?" Dallon and I asked.

"I was lonely." She mumbled with my comforter around her shoulders.