“I’ve got you, buddy.” I reach down and scoop Joey up, turning momentarily to Lindy. “Are you cut?”
She shakes her head, no.
“Then come into the kitchen with me and we’ll worry about the mess later. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
She hurries behind me, still crying, and I gently set Joey on the counter.
“Will you let me look, buddy?”
He starts wailing again, calling for his mom. But I can’t let him bleed all over the house taking him up to her.
“Mommy’s coming,” I say patiently, “but you have to let me look—Lindy, get me the paper towels, please. The roll.”
She quickly complies and I tear off a wad, pressing it against his foot. I don’t think it’s too bad, but the first step will be slowing down the bleeding.
“I’m just going to look at the cut,” I tell him. “Okay? Then we’ll get Mommy.”
He nods, his little lower lip protruding slightly.
“I’ll hold your hand,” Lindy whispers, reaching for it.
Joey nods again, his little face scrunched up like he’s trying to decide if he’s going to wail some more.
“Look how brave you are,” I say with a smile, even though my heart is pounding and I feel like I might vomit.
There’s a gash on the underside of his foot, a tiny piece of glass sticking out.
“Okay, we’re going to get out the glass, wash your foot, and put a bandage on it. That way, we don’t have to scare mommy. What do you think? Can we handle this on our own so mommy can enjoy her shower?”
Joey blinks, big eyes filled with indecision.
“I’ll be right here,” Lindy offers.
“It won’t hurt,” I promise, even though I don’t know any such thing.
“Kay-kay,” he whispers.
Christ.
“Lindy, in the hall bathroom, there’s something called Neosporin and a box of Band-aids. Can you get them?”
She nods and scurries out of the room.
Sliding Joey over, I hold his foot over the sink and then nudge the piece of glass out with the side of my finger. He winces but doesn’t make a sound, and then I turn on warm water to rinse it. The bleeding is already slowing down, so I grab some more paper towels and hold them against the wound.
“Here, Uncle West!” Lindy skids back into the room, holding out what I’d asked her to get.
“Thanks, sweetie.”
She’s never called me Uncle West before, but I don’t have time to think about that right now.
I put some of the gel-like substance on the cut and then put a big bandage over it.
“What do you think, buddy?” I ask solemnly. “You going to be okay?”
He nods, but his eyes are filled with tears. “Snuggle?” he whispers.
Aw, fuck.