Without thinking, Jake handed him a napkin. “When I was a kid, I got sick this way, too. Couldn’t hold anything down. My Mom would give me that and it worked.”
Chelsea rushed past the kitchen door with linens in her arms. Jake could hear her start the washing machine. When she entered the room, her eyes shone apologetic. He shook his head. The interruption didn’t matter.
“Hey, sport. You feeling okay?” she asked. Her hand went to his forehead.
“Better,” Max admitted.
“Fever?” she asked Jake.
“None,” he answered.
Chelsea looked down at her son with such love that Jake hoped she would look at him that way someday. She brushed a hair off of Max’s forehead. “What’s that you’re drinking?” She picked up the glass and sniffed, her nose wrinkling.
“Campbell family secret,” Jake volunteered.
She sipped. “You should keep it that way.” Her eyes laughed at him.
The smile that erupted on his face could not be contained. He didn’t want to either.