Whore.

Chapter 30: Serotonin

Swash sat on the kitchen stool with a bag of ice on is wrists. He was the happiest person I'd ever seen in pain. Rita studied our expressions as we stared at Bradley, unable to help our smiles.

"Am I missing something here?"

I laughed. I couldn't help it. She had no idea the emotional ordeal we had just been through. Swash stared back at her, still smiling.

"So, when did you pick him up?"
"About 20 minutes after the school called. He looked really scared. I think he was in the corridor when everything happened. He told me that he ran to the reception to tell Ms. Wells but I'm sure everyone heard the explosion. Emily's class wing hadn't been blocked off by the fire so they evacuated easily. It was people on the left side of the school that were trapped. Seriously, what's going on?"

She was smiling through her confusion as we continued to stare at Bradley who had since resumed watching National Geographic. It was like God had pushed a reset button and the afternoon's ugliness never happened. I pinched myself again; just to be sure it was real this time. It actually hurt. That was good.

"Would you believe we thought he was dead?" I wiped another tear that was beginning to form. Just the thought of losing Bradley was enough to get me to tear up.
"Oh God," she paled a bit. "I'm so sorry, I wanted to call but I didn't have your number. You must have been so heartbroken. I'm really sorry. I just took him home and waited until the time he said you'd be home. Didn't Ms. Wells tell you anything? I was kinda hoping she'd inform you."
"Who's Ms. Wells?" Swash frowned.
"The receptionist, Swash." I rolled my eyes. Seriously, that much was easy to figure out.
"Oh, Caroline?" He looked at me like I should have said so earlier. As if I knew.
Rita chuckled. "I see we're on a first name basis here. Please, extend the same privileges to me."

I smiled and looked at Swash. His hand didn't look as bad as I thought. He said it was just a sprain.

"Would you be able to go to work with that thing?"
"I don't care about work right now. Tomorrow, I'm spending all day with my son."
"Isn't that a little risky, seeing as you're-"
"'I don't care' means I don't care, Michael. And I don't care."

Rita laughed. I suddenly realized that we had been terrible hosts since she arrived, mostly ignoring her to stare at our little miracle. I rose and looked at her.

"Sorry, would you like anything to drink? Water? Juice? My blood?"
She laughed. "Water would be fine, thank you."
I walked back to the fridge and got out the bottle of mineral water. Swash began to talk to Rita, the usual idle conversations made when getting to know others. I poured the water into a glass and continued to stare at Bradley. They were showing a special where they followed the life of a crocodile and an alligator from two different habitats. Bradley was, as usual, gone from us. I took the water back as I heard Rita laugh at some joke that Swash had just told.

"Thank you," she said as she drank the water.
"Seriously, you won't like some blood in that? You totally deserve it, you know. Don't be shy."

She nearly choked on the water as she stifled a laugh I grinned. She dropped the glass and controlled a smile.

"Can I ask a personal question?" She phrased that to Swash.
"Okay," he furrowed his eyebrows as if waiting for the worst.
"Are you married? Were you married?"
"No. Never."
"So Bradley is..."
"I had a girl knocked up back in high school. Life got complicated and he ended up with me. You could say it was life's best complication ever."
"Oh, I see. Are you planning to get married? I mean, just so Bradley gets a mother figure or something."
"Are you hitting on me or looking for another client?" Swash smiled through his question. Rita seemed to blush.
"No, I was just...Oh never mind, it just feels weird now." She laughed. Swash smiled back at her.
"Tell you what; whenever I do plan to get married, I'll give you a call. I'm sure my future fiancé would love you."
"I'm sure I'd like her too." She smiled. "Whoever she is. I trust you to make good choices."
"He," Swash corrected. "Whoever he is."