Garth couldn’t believe how unfair his dad was.
There he was, stuck in a hospital bed with an IV drip, staring up at the ceiling, while his dad and Mamie sat together at the table, having dinner like nothing was wrong. It was enough to make him mad.
“Dad, I’m hungry too,” he called out.
Scott didn’t even bother to look at him. “The nurse already said you have to wait a bit after your IV before eating. Did you forget you threw up when you first got here?”
“Oh.” Garth pouted, looking miserable.
Mamie glanced over, looking a little guilty. “Maybe I could check with the doctor? A little plain porridge should be okay, right?”
“No need,” Scott replied. He saw right through Garth.
“He already had a piece of strawberry cake, a glass of milk, a bag of chips, and some cheese sticks before we came to the hospital.”
Garth’s cheeks turned bright red. “Dad, I didn’t. That was at five o’clock!”
Scott raised his eyebrows. “And now it's seven. Are you telling me you're hungry again?”
Garth fell silent. The truth was, he wasn’t really hungry. He just wanted Mamie to stay with him.
Mamie hadn’t realized Garth had eaten so much before his fever. Even an adult wouldn’t be hungry after all that food.
She picked up her small bowl of porridge and moved over to sit beside his bed. “I’ll hang out here with you. If you want to talk, just talk to me, okay?”
Garth’s eyes got a little watery. “Mamie, you’re the best.”
Scott watched from the table, feeling like his rare chance to spend time with Mamie had just been snatched away. He wiped his hands, walked over, and said, “Go ahead and eat. I’ll stay with him.”
He shot Garth a look, the kind that said don’t even try it.
Garth shut his mouth and managed a small smile. “Mamie, you should eat. I’m fine, really.”

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