already used one.”
“All right.” Louise Bennett entered through the front door with a white bag containing A.J.’s medication. She tossed a sharp look at everyone. “Why is he not in bed?”
Vic snorted. “Stubborn and hardheaded.” She stood in front of Baptiste with both hands at her hips and gave him an I-just-told-on-you look. “Maybe he’ll listen to you, Mom.”
“Well,” Louise drawled, her gaze roaming over A.J. from top to bottom, “get to moving, son.”
A.J pleaded, pouting. “But Louise—”
“Uh-uh. Don’t even go there with me.” Louise turned to Vic. “When Harrison gets off he’s coming by to check him out.”
“Wait, I’m a doctor.” A.J. couldn’t quite decipher why everyone stopped talking to stare at him with an incredulous look, then turned back around and resumed their conversation concerning his care.
Marcel tried to disguise his laugh by clearing his throat, but came up short. “Come on, petit frère . I think your lady and her mère mean business.”
“Yeah, let’s go,” Ray huffed, lifting A.J.’s arm around his neck again. He blew out a hard breath. “Daaayuuum, mon frère, you heavy.”
* * *
Later that evening, Vic knocked softly on Baptiste’s bedroom door, which she’d left partially open, just in case he called out to her. “Got a couple of folks I think you’d like to see.”
“Daddy, Daddy,” Taylor and Tyler happily shrieked and took off at a dead run toward the custom-made king-size bed, ready to pounce.
“No, no, no.” Vic’s warning was gentle. “Remember what Honey said…no jumping. We have to take it easy with Daddy for a few days.”
The twins heeded Vic’s instructions and skidded to a stop at the bedside.
A.J. planted sloppy, wet kisses on Taylor and Tyler’s foreheads when they stretched to reach him. “Missed my babies.”
Taylor grinned. “Missed you, too, Daddy.”
“Me, too.” Tyler lightly touched the left side of A.J.’s face with her index finger. “Honey say you got a big old raspberry,” she exclaimed, stretching her arms open as wide as they would go.
Vic chuckled at the reference Tyler used to describe their father’s injuries.
Taylor peered over at her father’s battered face from the right side. “Yep. It’s big, all right.”
A.J. chuckled. “Are you two being good for Honey?”
“Umm-hmm,” both girls answered, bobbing their heads.
Vic moved to the foot of the bed and saw the yawn Baptiste tried to hide with the back of his hand. She also noticed the droopiness in his eyes. “Okay, ladies. It’s time to get in the tub, say your prayers, and go night-night. Give Daddy some love so he can get some rest.”
As Taylor and Tyler kissed the right side of their father’s face, Vic chuckled.
A.J. was out cold.
* * *
Vic became frantic the moment she walked into Baptiste’s bedroom the next morning after dropping Taylor and Tyler at preschool. The bed was empty.
“Baptiste?”
She scurried to the other side of the four-poster bed and found him sprawled atop a sisal area rug, moaning in pain. Her heart skipped two beats, and she immediately dropped to her knees.
“Oh, my God. Baptiste, what’s wrong?”
Breathless, A.J. tried to sit up and almost made it before toppling onto his right side. “I need a shower,” he said, gasping for air. “I stink.”
At that moment, his personal hygiene was the least of her concerns. She needed to be sure he hadn’t caused more injury to himself, and sighed with relief when he told her he hadn’t fallen on his left side.
“Man, you don’t stink.”
“Look, woman, I haven’t had a shower since Saturday.” He lifted his right arm slightly. “Wanna smell?”
She chuckled. “No, I don’t wanna smell.”
“Well, I may not stink,” he refuted and sniffed, “but I certainly smell bad.”
“Didn’t I tell you last night that after I dropped the girls off at school I’d give you a sponge bath?”
“Yeah, I know, but I wanted to be