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“Toby?” she whispered.

Toby? No one called him Toby. Not even his mother.

“Tobias, sweetness.”

“Immy likes Toby. What Immy wants, she gets.”

He raised his eyebrows at that statement. “Is that so?”

“It is so.” She nodded her head, then winced. “Immy gots a headache.”

“Do you always talk about yourself in the third person when you’re ill?”

“Immy does not do that. Pass me some water.”

Okay, so she got some leniency because she wasn’t feeling well, but not so much that she thought she didn’t have to use her manners.

“Excuse me? What do you say?”

“Um, pass me some water, Toby.”

“I don’t think so.” He put his hands on his hips as he glared down at her. “What about your manners?”

“Ohh. Those,” she said dismissively.

“Yes, those, Little girl.”

“Immy isn’t a Little girl. She’s a goddess. A sexy, gorgeous god-god-goddess!” she sneezed loudly. “Oops. Need a tissue.”

“Immy can be a goddess and a Little girl. Also, just because she is a goddess does not mean that she can get away without using her manners.” He grabbed hold of a couple of tissues and used them to wipe her nose. “So what do you say?”

“Thank you, Toby.”

“Thank you, Tobias. Or thank you, Papa. Thank you, Toby is not happening.”

She sighed. “I tolds you, I’m not a Little.”

Really? Because she was sounding and acting very Little right now.

“I think that’s a conversation we really need to have another day.” He grabbed the glass of water which had a metal straw sticking out of it. Then he held the straw to her lips. She sucked on it and sighed, smacking her lips when she was finished.

“Good, sweetness?”

“Yeppers.” She slumped back on the pillows. “Immy tired now.”

“I can see that. Does Immy know what’s wrong with her?” he asked carefully. He wasn’t sure how much she would remember of this conversation so he had to watch what he said.

“Immy got the flu. Eric said. Don’t like Eric. Likes to stick things up Immy’s bottom.”

“He what?” he half-yelled. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

“She’s talking about a thermometer. And some medicine. And it’s not that he likes to do it, Immy,” Jenner said, walking into the bedroom. He eyed Tobias with interest. “It’s easier on her stomach. Sometimes, her body rejects oral medication when she’s ill.”

“Yeah, but what’s with the thermometer in the bottom?” Immy muttered as she snuggled under the covers. “There’s no need for it, I tell ya! No need! It’s like he taked plea-plea-pleasure . . . achoo . . . in sticking things in my bottom.”

Jenner moved around him to grab some tissues and leaned over Immy, wiping her nose. Then he spoke to her quietly as he brushed the hair off her face.

“Don’t worry about Eric and his obsession with your bottom. You know he’s just a bit old-school. He thinks that a rectal thermometer works better than an oral one.”