“Come on, Ovie... come on. Just put one foot in front of the other. Yes...just like that...Good job…”
I try to keep the edge out of my voice. Tonight is going to go great. Just great.
“I’m gonna throw up, Jo,” Ovie slurs the words. She throws her arm around my neck and lets most of her weight fall onto me. Never mind I’m six inches shorter than her. “Jo, I’m gonna throw up.”
“No you won’t.” Please God. Don’t let her throw up. “You haven’t thrown up since high school.”
That makes her grin proudly. “Vomit free since ‘98!”
“That doesn’t rhyme,” I tell with her wry a grin. “It never has.”