It had been days since Roger had eaten anything at all, and Miss Ginny was beginning to worry. She feared that if he didn't eat anything soon, he'd faint or at least have his weight significantly drop from its already low point now. She was determined to find something he'd like, even if that meant multiple trips to the kitchen or enduring several fits in the process.

One morning she brought in some eggs and bacon. Roger crossed his arms over his chest and pulled away stubbornly.

For lunch, she carried in a tray consisting of a glass of juice, some grapes, and a chicken salad sandwich. Roger stared hard at the food, then scowled and backed away from it.

At dinnertime, Miss Ginny brought in a warm plate of ham and potatoes. She sat on the bed before him, knowing that it smelled so good that he'd have to break and just eat it already. But he only whimpered as he gazed at it. He eventually started crying. Right there in front of her. Miss Ginny was awfully confused, and took the tray away from his bed. She sat before him, taking his small frame onto her lap and rocking him gently. He was sobbing unintelligible words to himself, sometimes sputtering over his tears, sometimes just wailing. She kissed the top of his head. "Roger," she murmured. "Sweetie, what's the matter? Why are you crying?" He didn't answer her. He just kept moaning and crying. "Darling, what can I do to make it better?" she tried again. This time, however, she did get a response. He sniffled and tearfully whimpered,

"N-No…meat…"

Miss Ginny cradled him until he calmed down enough to only sit on his bed and sniffle with an occasional hiccup from breathing hysterically. She promised to come back as she was leaving the room. Roger hugged himself as he sat up near his pillow and rocked back and forth. God, did he hate this place. He wiggled his toes as he looked down, thinking about how much he wanted to run, how it would be so wonderful to just leave, how clean and new he felt right then and there. That last thought confused him-he was the one who'd protested a bath and new clothes and clean underwear. He was the one who wanted to scare Miss Ginny away. But he suddenly realized that he liked her too much, and that it wouldn't be better out there. Alone.

Miss Ginny returned, carrying another tray of food. Roger shrunk back against the bed frame even more and squeezed his eyes shut. She chuckled a bit, then took her usual spot on the edge of his bed. She carefully set the tray down. "I think you'll like this much better, love." she murmured. Roger opened one eye to see what horrendous morsel she'd forced in front of him. He was instantly surprised. On the tray was a steaming bowl of soup. It wasn't that clear nasty broth that his mother used to make him swallow whenever he was sick (which was often), but a creamier whitish-yellow with little green specks on the top. He curiously eyed it, waiting for his nurse to explain things to him. "It's potato soup. There's some boiled potato in there, along with cheese and hot milk. I think you'll like it," she said softly. Roger looked up at her with dark-circled eyes. "No meat?" he rushed quickly. She shook her head. "None at all, deary."

Roger slowly picked up the spoon with his fingers (he'd spent so long on the island and protesting civilized food here that he almost forgot how to use the utensil) and dipped it into the bowl. When he drew up a small amount, he raised it took his lips and took a bite. It was scathing hot. Roger threw the spoon and clawed at his mouth as the burning singed his tongue. Miss Ginny hurriedly tried to calm him. She held the glass of cold water to his lips and guided it into his mouth. Finally, the inferno on his tongue cooled. He retreated even farther from the soup. Miss Ginny picked up the spoon and dipped it into the bowl herself. She blew gently onto the spoonful until the steam went away. As she held it up to Roger, he was reminded of the wonderful taste of that blend of food (beside the fiery temperature) and was tempted to bite. She smiled warmly. "I cooled it off for you. It shouldn't be too hot. Go ahead and take a bite for me," Roger did as he was told.

He actually sort of liked her feeding him. It was a good feeling-like someone was actually trying to take care of him. They liked taking care of him. Spoonful by spoonful, the two laughed and eventually finished the whole bowl. She praised him for being such a good boy. Roger smiled and put his hands on his stomach as he leaned back against the wall. Miss Ginny laughed once more. "How do you feel now, love?" she asked. Roger grinned even bigger. "Tummy's warm." he said. She reached out and tickled his thin little stomach, causing him to giggle and squirm around. Miss Ginny moved the tray over to the bedside table and began tucking Roger under the blankets. "You should go to sleep early tonight. You awoke pretty early this morning, right?"
"Five-thirty,"
"Alright, very early then. We'll get you all snuggled in and drifting off to sleep in no time, alright?"

Miss Ginny poured out more of that sleep medication and had Roger sip it. He still hated the taste and how it made his body feel, but he also liked falling asleep. It had been so long since he'd had a restful night of sleep. But here, with Miss Ginny, he could get that whenever she gave him that medicine. That was a plus. As she turned the lights down and kissed his cheek, she began to leave the room. Roger sat up rapidly, his head swooning with the impending thing called sleep, and cried out, "Miss Ginny!" She returned to his bedside, taking his small hand into hers lovingly. "Yes, sweetheart?"
"Can you…can…just…will you stay with me?"
"I'll never leave you-"
"I mean as I fall asleep?"

Miss Ginny looked into those troubled gray eyes. She nodded. "Of course, darling." she whispered. "Anything that will help you." Roger laid back down, holding onto her hand tightly. She curled up beside him and tenderly stroked his silky black hair. His eyes closed. Even when she was certain he'd fallen asleep, Miss Ginny remained by his side, gently brushing her fingertips over his cheek and watching that flawless little face twitch in dreamland...

Wishing that she could someday have a child just as sweet.