Sink or Swim by Laura Dower Page A

Madison thought. She chuckled at Dad’s joke again. It was time to go.
    Mrs. Reed seemed flustered when Madison walked right into the house, even though she’d told Madison it was fine to do that.
    “You startled me,” Mrs. Reed said.
    Becka was sitting in her lap, drinking from her morning bottle. Eliot was playing with the cushions on the sofa.
    “My husband had to leave earlier than usual today,” she said. “So I’m a little out of sorts. He usually feeds Becka the morning bottle. Now I’m running late….”
    “What can I do to help?” Madison asked.
    “Can you take Eliot out of here? He keeps jumping on my shoulders, and I just can’t get anything done with her. Plus, I think they’re both a little out of whack with all this rain. Unfortunately, we won’t be going to the pool today. You can go outside with him if you want….”
    “No problem. I’ll figure it out,” Madison said. She moved toward Eliot. “Good morning, Eliot! Hey, it’s Maddie. Do you remember me?”
    Eliot smiled. “Course I ʼmember you! See my slide?” He pointed to the sofa cushions.
    “Why don’t we go and play with your trucks in the other room?” Madison suggested.
    Eliot looked up at her and smiled again. “Okay, Maddie, we can play tucks,” he said. Madison was encouraged by his willingness to play along with her. He even said, “Bye, Mama,” without throwing a hissy fit.
    “Bye, sweetheart,” Mrs. Reed said. She looked super-relieved and cuddled Becka closer to her middle. “I’ll see you two in a little while.”
    The truck room, formerly known as the Reed dining room, was a total mess. Madison knelt down and started to pick up the teeny cars and trucks one by one.
    “Hey! No!” Eliot cried. “Those are tuck stops. Don’t move.”
    “These are what?” Madison asked. “Truck stops? How did you figure these out?”
    “No touching!” Eliot cried.
    Madison dumped all the cars that were in her hand onto the floor again. “Sorry,” she said. Instead of getting frustrated, she tried harder to understand what Eliot wanted next. “Should we put them back together?”
    They replaced all the truck stops and played unloading and loading games for about half an hour. Then Eliot jumped up and announced to the room that he was ready to go “thwimming.”
    Madison gulped. “I’m sorry, Eliot,” she said. “But it’s rainy, so we have to stay here and play.”
    “No thwimming?” he asked.
    Madison shook her head. “No. But we can find other things to do together, can’t we?”
    “Like what?” Eliot asked. “I want thwimming. I want Mama.”
    “Well, Mama’s busy right now, so why don’t we make up some other games together?”
    “Like what? What?” Eliot asked again. “WHAT?” he wailed.
    “Is everything okay?” Mrs. Reed called out from the other room. “Madison?” She was acting as anxious as her kids. Madison had to keep her cool and stay focused.
    MAKE ELIOT HAPPY.
    “We’re okay,” Madison called to Mrs. Reed. Then she turned to Eliot. “I have an idea. Since we can’t go swimming, let’s do something else and get wet,” Madison said.
    “Go outside?” Eliot said with a big grin.
    Madison glanced out the window at the rain. It was a total downpour. They could survive playing in the yard during a sprinkle, but this was too, too wet.
    “How about we play in the bathroom?” Madison asked.
    Eliot was intrigued, so he nodded and followed Madison upstairs.
    Eliot had his own bathroom with his own little stepping stool up to the sink. Madison was happy about that, because the web article she’d read about this particular activity called for a teeny stool just like his. Overhead, in the bathroom ceiling, was a skylight window. The rain plinked overhead. It was almost like being in the middle of the downpour—without getting wet.
    But Eliot was about to get very wet.
    Madison threw a thick towel down on the floor and pushed Eliot’s stool up to the sink. He was busy gathering his tub