"Ash, I have no idea what the fuck I'm supposed to do. She's had a headache for two days and she's been asleep for like thirty hours. Do I take her to the emergency room? I should definitely take her to the hospital, right?" I ramble through the phone, panicking as I run a shaky hand through my hair.
"Y/N, calm down. I'm sure she's fine. You're prone to migraines, too, so I'm sure that's all it is. Don't take her to the hospital just yet. If it makes you feel better, call the ER or her doctor and ask," Ashlynn responds.
"I guess. It's just- it feels like something is wrong, you know? Like there's this pit in my stomach that won't go away and it's suffocating me."
"That's called being a mother, sweetheart. Syd is going to be fine. I really have to go to class now, okay? I love you, asshole."
"Love you, bitch."
I hang up and throw my phone on the couch. Ash has class today and Syd has felt sick since that night Florence came in, so David is running the store by himself. It's not ideal and I'm definitely going to buy him donuts to apologize, but I can't just leave a sick child by herself.
I groan and lay down on the floor, staring up at the ceiling fan. Syd is asleep for now, but she'll probably wake back up in a couple of hours because her head hurts. I just have no idea what to do for her. Maybe it's just a migraine and it seems worse because she's so young? I'm trying to convince myself that there's nothing seriously wrong, but I'm failing miserably at it.
I lift my arm and feel around the couch cushions for my phone. I grab it and look up Syd's pediatrician in my contacts. It rings a few times before he picks up.
"This is Dr. Lancaster's office. What can I do for ya?"
"Hello, this is Y/N Y/L/N. My daughter is Syd Y/L/N."
"Oh, of course! I remember my favorite patient. How is the little pumpkin?"
"Well, she's not exactly great. She's had a headache for the past two days, most of which she's slept through. She's in a lot of pain and I don't know what to do," I explain.
"Is she showing any other symptoms? A cough, fever, vomiting..." he trails off.
"Not at the moment, no. She was running a fever for a few hours when this first started, but I got it back down pretty quick. Do you think I should take her to the hospital? Or to you?"
"I don't think we should jump to extremes yet. Right now, I'm sure all she needs is some rest and her mom, okay? If the headache is still present in two days, her temperature spikes, or she starts throwing up, then I want you to bring her to the hospital. Sound good?"
"Yeah, okay. Thank you, Dr. Lancaster."
"Of course. Say hi to Syd for me."
"I will, bye."
I hang up the phone for the second time and slide it in my pocket. Deciding I should check on the demon child, I walk through our apartment and quietly enter her room. The blackout curtains are pulled closed, and the only source of light and noise is Shrek quietly playing on the TV.
She's still sound asleep, and I gently put my hand to her forehead to check her temperature. She's not running a fever. I sigh in relief and slide into the small twin bed next to her.
Looking at the collection of Marvel posters taped to her wall, I silently chuckle. Of course, there's a giant poster of Natasha and Yelena smack dab in the middle of the wall. I'm just glad that Syd didn't recognize Florence when she was in the store; Syd would totally freak out. And I doubt she would understand that Florence isn't actually Yelena.
Since the movie finished a long time ago, "I'm a Believer" is just playing on repeat with the menu on the screen. Which is very annoying. I only lay there for a few more minutes before leaving because that damn song is getting extremely obnoxious.
Once I'm back into the living area of the apartment, I check my phone. There are a few texts from David.
David: Yo, Florence Pugh is here. I repeat, FLORENCE PUGH IS IN YOUR STORE. This is wild!
David: I'll send you a picture.
Me: No, David! Do not take any pictures of her. Leave her alone. She's still a normal person.
David: Omg, she just asked if you were here. How tf do you know Florence freaking Pugh?
Me: This is not a very professional way to speak to your boss, you know.
David: Don't avoid the question. Why is she asking for you?
Me: She's come in twice before. We talked. Drop the subject, dude.
David: Fine, I'll just ask Ash. She'll tell me.
Me: David, no. Get back to work.
David: Fine.
I sigh in exasperation at his looney disposition. I won't lie, though; I want to know why she was asking for me, too. The rental on the vinyl doesn't end for four more days, and I'm 100% confident that it isn't scratched or anything. Did she actually want to talk to me? I hope it has nothing to do with that text she got the other night. She seemed really upset after getting it; I hope everything is okay. Not that it would be any of my business anyway.
"Momma?" Syd mumbles as she emerges from her room, wrapped in her favorite blanket.
"Yeah, babe?"
"Can we please have mac and cheese? And dino nuggets?"
"Of course. Are you feeling a little better?" I ask as she slumps down next to me on the couch.
"Mhm. My head doesn't hurt anymore."
"That's good. I'll go make your food," I say as I stand up and walk to the kitchen. "Even though it's three in the afternoon," I add on under my breath.
"Don't act like you don't always want mac and cheese and dino nuggets," Syd sasses me.
"Well then don't act like me."
"But I wanna be just like you!"
"Babe, I was a stripper at seventeen years old," I deadpan.
"What's a stripper?"
"Nevermind."