The next morning Freddie put the dirty dishes from breakfast into the dishwasher. Since he was back to staying at home today, Sam had driven Lauren to school leaving him to watch Heather. Sam and Lauren had left about twenty minutes ago, and the house was completely silent, a complete contrast to how it had been earlier as he had once again had to call five times up the stairs for Lauren to wake up.

"Alright, dishes are done," Freddie said, satisfied. He looked at the clock on the wall in the kitchen and saw it was already half past eight.

That's weird, Freddie thought to himself. Usually Heather's up way before this.

He headed up to the two-year olds bedroom room.

"Heather?" he said, turning on her light. "Heather? It's time to wake up. Come on, sweetie, it's time for breakfast."

Heather, who had been curled up in her bed, stirred slightly.

"Heather?" Freddie frowned, stepping over to her bed. "Heather, honey what's wrong?"
"Feel yucky," Heather mumbled.

"You feel yucky?" Freddie repeated. He sat down on the bed, and he could tell right away that Heather was sick. Her skin was pale and she was breathing heavily. He felt her forehead and confirmed that she had a slight fever.

"Oh, sweetheart," Freddie sighed. "You're sick. Poor thing…"
"I sleepy," Heather yawned.

"I bet," Freddie said, gently scooping her up into his arms. "But before you go back to sleep, we need to get some medicine in you."

He carried her down to the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of children's flu medicine from the medicine cabinet.

"Taste bad," Heather fussed.

"But it will help you feel better," Freddie told her. "Come on, it's cherry flavored. You love cherries."

When he finally managed to get the medicine down Heather, Freddie put her back to bed.

"Hopefully you'll feel better soon, honey," Freddie said, kissing the top of his head. He hated seeing his little girl sick like this. "I'll check on you in a little bit. You just yell if you need anything, okay?"
"Night, daddy," Heather mumbled as she closed her eyes.

…

"I swear, my History teacher is trying to drive me insane," Lauren said later that afternoon as she let herself into the house.

"Shhh," Freddie said quickly. "Heather's asleep. She has the flu."

"She's sick?" Lauren frowned. "Is she okay?"

"Yes, she'll be fine," Freddie said. "She'll hopefully sleep this off and feel better in the morning. Anyway, what were you saying about history?"

"My teacher gave me this project," Lauren replied. "I have to make a family tree that goes back at least three generations."

"Well what's so bad about that?" Freddie asked. "I made a family tree in high school. They're not too hard."

"I know, but she wants us to write a mini biography for each member of the family," Lauren moaned.

"Really? Well I guess that does seem a little extensive," Freddie said. "But I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Yeah, but if I'm gonna have to write a biography for each of my family members, that means I'm gonna have to call her and ask her a bunch of questions," Lauren said darkly.

Freddie knew perfectly well who the 'her' was that Lauren was referring to.

Ever since Sarah had given up custody of Lauren, Lauren had had a very rocky relationship with her mother. When Lauren was young, Sarah would come and visit Lauren two or three times a year and would call her at least once a month. And at first, Lauren did seem to enjoy that little bit of time with her mother. But then as Lauren grew older, suddenly her mother's departure seemed to hit her more personally.

She now saw it as abandonment.

Lauren hadn't seen her mother in person in almost three years now. The last time she had talked to her on the phone had been over a year ago.

Freddie always tried to refrain from speaking ill of his ex-wife in front of Lauren, but Lauren wasn't stupid. She picked up on things.

"Of course that would require her talking to me at all," Lauren mumbled, tossing her backpack carelessly onto the couch. "She's too busy in living in Beverly Hills selling fancy little houses to all those rich celebrities that she'd probably ignore any call from me."
"Lauren…" Freddie said. He wished he could tell her that wasn't true, but he didn't think he could make it come off convincingly. So instead he just sat down next to her and put an arm around her. To his surprise, she didn't shrug it off like she usually did lately.

"Don't let some school assignment get you down," Freddie told her soothingly. "I know your mom hasn't-hasn't really been around lately. But that's her loss. Because while she's been away, I've gotten to watch my beautiful daughter grow up into a beautiful young lady."

Lauren laughed and pulled out of her father's embrace. "God, you're so lame, daddy."

"I was being sentimental!"

"If that's what you want to call it," Lauren said, getting to her feet and heading into the kitchen.

"Hey, Lauren?" Freddie said.

She turned around.

"I was thinking," Freddie said. "When Sam gets home and can watch your sister, maybe you and I could go out for a little bit. You know, in the car. With-With you in the driver's seat."
"Really?" Lauren gasped. "You're gonna take me driving tonight?"

"We're not going on any main roads," Freddie said firmly. "And you'll stay under twenty-five miles per hour."
"Oh my God, thank you, daddy, you're the best!" Lauren exclaimed, throwing her arms around Freddie and hugging him tightly. "This is so exciting! I can't believe I'm finally gonna get to drive! I've got to call Scott and tell him all about it!"

She released her father and hurried upstairs, already pulling out her phone.

"Huh…I'm the best," Freddie said slowly. "I'll take that."

….

"God, today just seemed to drag on," Sam said a few hours later as she stepped into the home.

"Rough day?" Freddie asked his wife sympathetically as he gave her a quick kiss.

"No, I still fill sick from that restaurant last night," Sam said.

"You think maybe it's food poisoning?"

"Nah, I've had that before," Sam replied. "I don't feel that bad. Hopefully if I get some sleep tonight I'll feel better in the morning."

"Oh, well then why don't you go upstairs and lie down?" Freddie said. "I-I was supposed to take Lauren out driving, but if you're not feeling well-"

"What? No dude, I'm okay," Sam said. "I'm just a little queasy. I'll drink some club soda and I'll be fine. Don't take this away from Lauren. She already texted me about it at work; she's so excited."

"You sure you're okay?" Freddie asked.

"Yeah, of course," Sam nodded. "Hey, where's Heather?"

"Upstairs. Sleeping," Freddie sighed.

"Sleeping?" Sam frowned. "It's only five thirty!"

"I know, but I think she came down with the flu," Freddie replied.

"The flu?" Sam exclaimed. "What? She's sick?"

"Yeah, she has a fever," Freddie said. "She's been asleep all day."

"Well why didn't you call me? I'd have come home early!"

"It's okay, Sam, I handled it," Freddie told her. "I've been giving her medicine and a couple hours ago I gave her a cold bath and that helped bring her fever down a little."

"Yeah, but…you still should've called," Sam said.

Just as Freddie was about to reply, Lauren hurried downstairs.

"Hi, Sam!" she said, grinning. "Can you believe it? I'm finally gonna get to drive!"

Sam quickly pulled on a smile over her previously worried expression. "Have fun out there. Don't drive your dad crazy, though."

"Come on, dad," Lauren said, tugging on her father's arm. "Let's go! You said we could go when Sam got home."

"Er, I'll be out there in a sec," Freddie said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his car keys. "Go ahead and check the tires and the mirrors in the meantime."

Once Lauren had left the house, Freddie turned back to Sam. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you she was sick, Sam, but I just didn't want to stress you out at work. I promise you, though, I took care of everything."

Sam sighed. "Okay. I-I guess you do know what to do. Sorry I freaked out on you."
Freddie kissed her again. "Don't worry about it. Anyway, I guess I should go now so I can learn what it really means to be freaked out. Maybe I should invest into getting one of those cars they have at driving schools. You know, the ones with an extra pair of brakes on the passenger's side."

"You'll be fine," Sam said, rolling her eyes. "Just don't be a nub out there with her."
"I'll try," Freddie said heavily. "I'll see you in a little bit."

Once Freddie left, Sam went upstairs to Heather's room.

When she stepped into the room, the toddler slowly sat up in her bed.

"Mommy, I sick," she announced groggily.

"I know, honey," Sam said, carefully sitting down on the bed next to her. "Daddy told me. Are you feeling any better?"

She placed a hand on her forehead. She didn't feel too warm; it looked like Freddie had gotten her fever under control like he said.

"Sleepy," Heather yawned as Sam gently rubbed her back.

"Well how about I read you a story, Heather?" Sam suggested.

Heather nodded. "Piggy story.
Sam smiled as she reached for the worn book sitting on the nearby dresser. It was Heather's favorite story, and she and Freddie read it to her at least three times a day.

"Alright, Piggy Goes to School it is."

Before she began reading, Sam tucked Heather into bed, making sure she was comfortable. As she fluffed her pillows, Sam couldn't help but feel a bit reminiscent. She used to go through this same process with Conner each time he got moved to a new hospital room; trying to make the hospital beds a little more bearable for him since he would most likely be there for quite some time.

It had been ten years since the last time she had done that for him…

"Okay, mommy?" Heather asked, shaking Sam from her thoughts. She was looking up with Sam with the same small smile that Conner used to greet her with every day.

"Yeah," Sam said quickly smiling back at her. She opened up the book and cleared her throat, hoping more than anything that the flu would be the only sickness she would ever have to see her child go through.