It was midnight on her first night off since the disaster date with Brad. Jack didn’t call, didn’t stop by. Monica had finished her semester and was enjoying a long-overdue break by going to Big Bear, where the snow had come down in feet rather than inches. Monica didn’t ski, but she took pleasure in the snow and the guys who flocked to it.
Jessie stared up at the ceiling in her room, unable to sleep.
Danny had gone to bed early with a small cough.
Slipping out of bed, Jessie tossed her robe over her shoulders and shoved her feet into her slippers.
On her way to her kitchen to try some warm milk to help her sleep, she heard Danny coughing in his room.
She pushed open his door and noticed that he’d pushed off all his covers. She stepped in and went to cover her son up. The sweat on his forehead stopped her. Placing the back of her hand to his face, she realized how hot he was.
Danny started to cough again, and this time his eyes opened, glossy and unfocused.
“Hey, handsome.”
Danny’s little eyes instantly watered. “I don’t feel good, Mommy.”
Jessie lifted him into a sitting position and he started to cough even harder. Under his pajamas, his skin burned with fever. “Wait here,” she told him before rushing to the bathroom to find the thermometer.
“Here, buddy. Let’s see where you’re at.”
She stuck the gauge between his lips and under his tongue. He coughed around it while she stripped the hot pajamas from his tiny body. The coolness of the room had him shivering, but Jessie remembered Monica talking about the kids who arrived in the clinic ill. “It’s not cruel to strip a burning kid down to his underwear. It’s much worse to let the fever stay high and keep all that heat in.”
Danny kept coughing, only it didn’t sound like he was bringing anything up. He even had a squeaky noise when he pulled in a breath.
Inside, Jessie started to panic. Outside, she smiled and stroked Danny’s head. Her car was in the shop and Monica was out of town.
It was late at night, and the only place open was the emergency room at Upland Community.
Jessie pulled the thermometer from Danny’s mouth and tilted the glass tube until she saw the red line: 104.2.
Now it was time to panic.
She hurried to the bathroom and found the chewable children’s Tylenol and glanced at the box to see how much to give him. The weight chart said two tablets, so she poured two in her hand and hurried back to Danny’s side.
Danny whined when she handed him the medicine, his body shook, and his coughing never stopped. “Here, baby. Take these.”
“Do they taste bad?”
“They’re good, try ’em. They’ll make you feel better.” But 104.2 wasn’t good. She had to get him to a doctor. The cough worried her even more than the fever.
She wished her sister were there helping her.
Jessie ran to her bedroom, grabbed a cordless phone, and dashed back to Danny’s side.
Her mother was too far away.
Her fingers flew over the numbers, never hesitating.
Jack answered on the first ring.
“Jack, thank God you’re there.”
“Jessie? What’s wrong? Are you OK?” There was panic in Jack’s voice, and her own heightened in response.
“It’s Danny.” Danny started to cough again. “He’s sick and my car’s in the shop. He needs a—”
“Stay calm. I’ll be right there.”
“Hurry.” But he’d already hung up the phone.
Jessie tossed a T-shirt over Danny’s head and propped him up on a few pillows on the couch. In her room, she stepped into the clothes she’d worn the day before and grabbed her purse from her dresser.
Back in the living room, she unlocked the door and then had to wait. Danny’s eyes kept drifting shut between his fits of coughing. Jessie had never felt more helpless in her entire life.
She rocked her son back and forth while he clutched Tex to his side. Jessie did her best to ignore his shaking body. This part of parenthood really sucked. Why couldn’t she be the one to get sick? Why Danny?
She heard Jack’s footsteps running down the hall before her door swung open. He was there, thank God. Jessie wanted to cry in relief.
Jack slowed his steps and reached down to take Danny from her arms. “Hey, partner.” He greeted her son first.
Danny tried to smile, but he coughed instead.
“See, that cough is bad,” Jessie said in alarm.
Jack shook his head. “Shh, I got him. Grab your purse and lock the door.”
“OK,” she said, following his instructions and taking her place at his side.
The cool air outside hit her hard. Jack opened the passenger door and buckled Danny in the center seat. Jessie stepped in beside him and Jack ran around the truck to the driver’s side door.
“Where is the nearest ER?” he asked.
Jessie gave him directions and Jack drove. There was no small talk, no smiling. Jack looked just as concerned as she felt.
At the hospital, Jack carried Danny inside. The lobby was a quarter full with mostly slumbering people who looked like they were waiting on family members.
“Hello,” the lady behind the bulletproof glass said with a smile as she pushed a sign-in sheet in front of them.
Jessie wrote down Danny’s name on autopilot. “He has a fever over 104, and his cough is making it hard for him to breathe.”
The lady gave a sympathetic look and said, “I’ll get the triage nurse.”