You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 474

Roger woke up to the sound of his own coughing.

“Uncle Oliver…” His throat felt like he’d swallowed glass, and though he wanted to say more, he could barely get the words out.

Oliver came over to the bed, helped him sit up, and pressed a cup of warm water to his lips. “Here. Drink some.”

Roger managed half the cup and finally felt his throat ease a little. “What are you doing here, Uncle Oliver?”

“I was worried about you, so I came to check on you.”

“Checked on me and fell asleep here?” Roger shot him a skeptical look.

He glanced at his IV—still half full—then gave Oliver a pleading look. “Uncle Oliver, I need to go to the bathroom.”

Oliver paused, giving him a long, exasperated look. Seriously, what did I do to deserve this? he thought. He’d just finished taking care of Patricia, and now he was stuck with Roger. He didn’t even have kids, but these three little troublemakers treated him like their personal dad. Sometimes, “the struggles of life” didn’t even begin to cover it.

“Can you handle your pants yourself?”

In the bathroom, Oliver stood with his back to Roger, holding up the IV bag, his voice cold. “Can you manage?”

“I can!”

As soon as Roger finished, the sound of running water echoed through the room.

At seven thirty, the doctor came by to take out the IV and handed over a box of medicine, with instructions and dosage written right on it.

Oliver tucked Roger in, making sure he was settled before finally heading down the hall to the master bedroom.

That day, breakfast at Cloud Peak was way later than usual. Everyone was slow to wake, and they didn’t gather at the table until nine thirty, Roger still upstairs.

Patricia actually traded her usual soy milk for a mug of black coffee. She peeled a boiled egg, rubbing her eyes with a tissue.

“Aunt Patricia, did you get up for water last night?” Sara asked.

“Where’s Roger? Is he feeling better?”

“He’s fine,” Sara said. “Uncle Oliver won’t let him come downstairs—says he might get you sick.”

Patricia glanced at Oliver. “I’m not that delicate, you know.”

Oliver ignored her and turned his attention to Sara, his voice sharp. “Maybe you can explain why Roger had a fever and you still dragged him out to party, drinking and hanging out with male models. Sara, you let your brother drive you around and pay for everything while he was burning up with a fever. You proud of yourself?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. “No allowance and no salary for you this month.”

Sara almost wailed. “No, Uncle Oliver, please! I get it, I learned my lesson. If you don’t pay me, I can’t even afford gas!”

Just then, Johns slid a card across the table. “Ms. Padilla, here’s a gas card. There’s a thousand on it. That should last you until your next paycheck.”

Sara stared at him, completely speechless.