The warmth of the morning sun, streaming through the open front door, seeped into my hands as I tied Chris’s bright red sneakers. His five-year-old excitement was palpable, a stark contrast to the knot of nervous anticipation in my stomach.
This was our first outing with just the two of us since the press conference. And for some reason, without Madison with us, it felt like the paparazzi might be less discreet this time. What if they overwhelmed Chris?
At the thought of Madison, I felt a pang of worry. When I’d gone to check up on her this morning, she was as white as a sheet, her stomach flu still in full swing. She’d assured me she had medicine for it and she just wanted to rest for the day while we were out.
Still, I insisted on having a doctor come in to check on her, but Madison refused to hear anything about it. She’d become even paler at the prospect of being examined.
Does Madison have a fear of doctors or something?