Author's Note: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! The fact that I'm posting a new chapter today is actually a coincidence—originally, I was going to be posting this on the 21st, but I'll be visiting some relatives from the 18th to the 21st, so I decided to get this done as soon as possible.
Murphy's Law of Birthdays
Eva had to force back a groan upon entering the kitchen of one Brandon Bagshaw and finding Neil pacing the room with his phone at his ear.
"How's Grace?" he was saying. "Has she gotten any more sleep? Is she still feeling nauseous?"
"Neil, you said you were going to call headquarters," Eva scolded. What should have been an easy enough case had become complicated by the fact that the machine was failing to properly construct the young adult stage of Brandon's memories. They'd learned from their patient's doctor that Brandon had a history of drug abuse, but they wouldn't be able to figure out how to proceed until they got access to his medical records.
Which Neil was supposed to be taking care of, but instead, he had called Ruth, something he'd been doing every hour since he and Eva left home this morning.
At present, Neil stopped pacing and shot her a glare. "I'm making sure our girl's still breathing."
"Brandon's the one whose breathing you should be worried about." Eva knew she was sounding harsh, but for the love of God, they had a dying client on their hands. As awful as Grace having the stomach flu was—the sound of her daughter throwing up what little she had eaten for breakfast and sobbing afterward was not something Eva wanted to hear again any time soon—at least it wouldn't be long before she felt better. Brandon did not have that luxury.
If Neil had some biting comeback for her, Eva never found out. "What was that, Ruth?" he asked, returning his attention to the phone conversation. "Okay, good. Is Grace still awake?"
"No, Neil," Eva protested, "let her sleep."
"Too late." Neil held the phone at arm's length and pressed a button. "Hey, Gracie."
"Hi, Daddy," came Grace's voice.
"Mama's here, too—wanna say hi to her?"
"Hi, Mama."
"Hi, Grace." Eva stepped over to Neil, mouthing the words, One minute, at him. Out loud, she asked, "How are you feeling?"
"Sick."
"I'm sorry, honey. Have you at least been able to eat anything today?"
"Ruth made me chicken noodle soup, and I didn't throw it up."
"Well, that's good," Neil chimed in. "It's like your tummy gave you a birthday present."
Grace giggled a little at that, then she asked, "Will I still have a party tomorrow?"
"Let's see how you're feeling then," Eva told her.
"But what if I'm not feeling better?"
"Then we'll just reschedule. Don't worry—you'll still get to celebrate your birthday."
"Good. I'm a whole hand today, so we gotta have a party."
Neil let out a feigned gasp. "You're a whole hand?" he asked, grinning. "What happened to your eyes and hair and everything else?"
Grace giggled again. "You're silly, Daddy. A whole hand means I'm five."
"Ah, of course, my mistake."
"Well, we need to get back to work," Eva cut in. "Try to get some more rest, okay?"
"Wait," Neil said, "before we hang up—Grace, whaddya say to having a bunch more balloons for the party?"
"Will they be pink?"
"Sure will."
"Okay."
Shortly afterward, goodbyes and "I love you"s were exchanged, and Neil ended the call.
"Neil—" Eva began.
"Yes, Brandon, I know," he interrupted impatiently. "I'll call headquarters next thing, all right?"
"I was actually about to say we're not filling our house with balloons."
Neil raised his eyebrows at Eva in confusion. "Who said anything about filling our house with balloons? I just want Grace to enjoy her party."
"Knowing you, you'd buy out a whole store and then some."
"So? Grace'll only be five once and she's had a rough birthday—if anyone deserves an extra fun party, it's her."
Eva shook her head. "I'll tell you all the reasons why going all out for a birthday party won't be feasible after we've finished with Brandon."