You've been cerved.

Claire

Claire rubbed her eyes and took another bite of the chocolate cake she'd brought over for pizza night. Inez was in her garage storing the boxes of sorted donations, so Claire decided she had time for one more phone call.

"Mom? Where's my purple shirt?" Grace answered her father's phone.

"Why aren't you in bed? It's practically midnight." Claire glanced at Inez's microwave clock.

"I'm almost nine. Where's my shirt? You know, with the pink dolphin?" Grace insisted with an audible snuffle.

"Do you need to blow your nose, Grace?" Claire asked.

"No," Grace obviously did.

"Please blow your nose, Grace. Don't lick your snot," Claire's fingers itched to wipe her daughter's face.

"My nose is fine. Where's my shirt?" Grace sneezed.

"Where's your dad? I need to talk to him," Claire knew better than to just provide the information her daughter wanted. Grace would immediately hang up.

"Putting the boys to bed. Look, if you don't know where my shirt is —" Grace sounded bored.

"I know where it is. He's putting the boys to bed at this hour? They'll be awful tomorrow!" Claire groaned.

"Chachi took us out to eat late at a fancy restaurant. And she bought me a back-pack — an Elsa one! Well an Elsa two one - where she's on the horse?" Grace was excited.

Claire was intrigued. She hadn't been in a restaurant without a drive-through till she'd visited the Subway earlier that day. "What kind of fancy restaurant?"

"One that Dadi jee likes. It was boring. Well, until Ben threw up on Charlie. He almost got my new back-pack, but I figured out what he was plannin' 'fore he could," Grace's voice sounded farther away.

"Ben threw up?" Claire was alarmed.

"Yeah, that's what I just said. Listen, where's my shirt?" Grace asked again.

Claire ground her teeth. "Grace, is Ben sick?"

"Dunno. He threw up," Grace explained helpfully. "Is my shirt in the laundry room?"

"No. Did Appa have to go to the doctor? Does he even have the pediatrician's number?" Claire was more talking to herself than Grace.

"Chachi's a doctor and she said it was probably just a bug - but not like the lice we had that other time. A stomach bug. Chachi gave Ben some medicine. Is my shirt in your room?" Grace asked.

"Did the medicine help?" Claire tried for patience.

"Ben threw it up I think. He threw up a lot. Dadi jee says we can never go back that restaurant. Is it in your room?" Grace pursued her initial line of inquiry.

"No. Where's your father? Can I talk to him?" Claire sighed and rubbed her jaw.

"Appa's putting the boys to bed in your room," Grace said.

"Wait, what'd he do with all the clean laundry on the bed? I'd just folded everything!" Claire asked.

"Dunno. Appa says the boys should sleep together cuz since Ben threw up on Charlie and on Appa, they're probably going to get sick too. Is my purple shirt in my room?" Grace asked.

"What about the plumbing? Your father can't wash anything if everyone throws up at our house! Why can't they go to your grandmother's?" Claire was alarmed.

"Appa says he'll fix the plumbing. He saw how to do it on YouTube. Is my shirt in my room? I need it for tomorrow," Grace sounded like she was eating something.