I didn't know what to expect when I woke up from my second seizure. Was it my second? Probably not; maybe I've had three or four. I'd have to ask Uncle Jack or Atticus about that. Has Jem seen me have one? I'd hate to think that he did; it's bad enough that Atticus and Uncle Jack have. They're scary enough to go through let alone watch someone go through them because there is absolutely nothing no one can do about it except sit there and watch me ride it out until it's over.

"Come in," I answer yet another knock at the door.

"Can I come and see you, baby?"

Calpurnia! How I missed her strong yet reassuring voice! I couldn't wait to see her intimidating, sweet face.

"Of course!" I reply happily.

She swung the door open with a tray of food just for me in her arms. I was so happy to see her; I kept smiling at her but I realized she couldn't bring herself to really look at me. I all of a sudden remembered the part about me landing on my head and I wondered how I looked from the neck up. Probably as screwed up as I felt.

"Give me a smile," I ordered.

"I beg your pardon?"

At least that got her to look at me. She seemed more concerned about feeding me than anything else.

"Smile, Cal. I know you can."

"Take a bite of this chicken soup and I'll give you one."

I was hungry and the soup tasted as comforting as Calpurnia's presence. That was when she gave me a smile. Looked like it took her everything she had to give me one but it was still a smile. I happily took every bite of soup she offered until the bowl was clean.

"You liked that didn't you, baby?"

"It was real good and I was hungry, too."

"I made you a special treat to go with your soup."

"What?"

"Crackling bread."

"Wow! Thank you so much!"

"Do you think you can hold your bread and milk?"

"I can try."

Cal put a large piece of crackling bread in one hand and the cool, tall glass of milk in the other. I felt pretty good about it especially seeing as the coldness of the milk acted like ice on the hand that was holding it.

"I can do it," I reassured her.

"I'll leave the tray here for you then," she said as she got up to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"I was going to draw you a bath."

"A bath for me?"

"Baby, it's Friday night and you haven't had a bath since Tuesday morning. You could use a good wash."

"I suppose so," I agreed as she shut the door gently behind her.

I devoured my crackling bread and chugged my milk in record time. I unbuttoned my pajama top and was shocked by how skinny I had become in just a few days. I tried to get up out of bed but my legs wouldn't support me. It was like I couldn't even get my own feet to touch the ground. I was sure that Cal had a sixth sense about me because she shuffled in as soon as I laid back down on the bed.

"You were trying to get up, weren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry."

"You should be," she said with narrow eyes. "Mr. Finch!"

"Are you going to tell on me?"

She didn't answer but instead waited for Atticus to come to her. I waited for her to tell him what I tried to do and I also waited for the lecture that was sure to follow.

"Yes, Cal?"

"Can you help me put Scout in the tub?"

"Better yet, why don't I just give her a bath myself?"

"You never bathe me, Atticus," I remarked, flabbergasted.

"Do you not want me to?"

"No, you can. That's if Cal doesn't mind."

"I don't mind at all, baby. Let your father give you a bath for a change. It'll give me extra time to clean up the dishes."

"Thank you, Cal," Atticus and I said at the same time.

Atticus came over to me and picked me up as Cal walked away. Atticus kissed my forehead once he had me in his arms and we were on our way to the bathroom. He sat me down on the toilet as he drew the bathwater and then came over to me to help me undress. Someone would think I would feel awkward about my daddy doing this for me but I didn't feel any such thing. I think it's very sweet of him to do this and I think it proves how much he does love me.

"Can I look in the mirror, Atticus?" I ask as he picks me up again to put me in the tub.

"You look pretty banged up, baby," he replied, disheartened. I was afraid of that.

"I want to see me anyway."

"All right," he says as he carries me to the mirror.

I was a sorry sight: the crown of my head was all bruised, both of my eyes were black and I had a big gauze bandage right near my right temple. I must have flipped over on my face after I hit my head. Tears began to well up again and Atticus noticed because he kissed a black and blue patch on my eye.

"You're okay," he told me as he laid me down in the warm water.

"I'm ugly."

"The bruises will fade, baby. You're not ugly."

"So you think I'm pretty?"

"I don't think you're pretty," he said deadpan as he dolloped castile soap in his hands. "I think you're beautiful."

"Thanks, Atticus," I say with a smile as he massages the soap into my hair. I'm afraid I like it when Atticus bathes me more than Cal does. Atticus is very gentle where as Cal likes to scrub me down the point where I wonder if I have any skin left sometimes.

My bath is over all too soon and I feel disappointed I couldn't enjoy it more as the water runs out. Atticus grabs the towel, throws it around me and then picks me up and holds me close. He must not care if he gets wet and I didn't care if he did.

"Don't you ever think that I will ever not love you," he whispered in my ear. "You're my baby girl."

"And you're my Atticus."

"That's very true."