Plan B

by Hayley Oakes

  “Oh God,” I stepped around Penny to sit next to my little girl who was sleeping soundly. “What’s going on?”

  A tear dropped down Penny’s cheek and she wiped it away, “they couldn’t get her temperature down and she was floppy and lethargic so they started treating her for meningitis, they’ve done loads of tests and sent the blood work off,” she took a deep breath, “she’s asleep but she’s also not been with it much, it’s been ... scary.” She let out a weary breath.

  “You should have called me sooner,” my mouth twitched but I tried not to be too harsh.

  “I just ...” she started crying again, “I didn’t want to be one of those overreacting first time mums.”

  “It’s fine,” I stood and pulled her into a hug again, “she’s gonna be fine. I’m here.” I held her to me as she cried into my shoulder and I stroked her hair, “I’m here.” I told her again as she shook with sobs.

  We sat either side of Ivy, holding each of her little hands. She continued to sleep and nurses came in and out replacing the fluids and checking her temperature.

  “No sign of a rash,” the nurse said, looking at her arms and legs intently as we watched with concern. “That’s good,” she smiled encouragingly.

  I gave Penny a quick nod and she smiled nervously back.

  It got to midnight and there was still no rash, Ivy was stable, her temperature was still high but not dangerously so, the drugs were working and she hadn’t shown signs of meningitis as yet but they were treating her as if she had it just in case. The ward was quiet, the odd baby could be heard crying in the distance but most parents were talking in hushed tones. Penny looked completely buggered, “try to get some sleep,” I said to Penny and she blinked through her fatigue.

  “I’m not sure I can,” she said with a sad smile.

  “Come to me,” I said, opening my arms. She glared at me and I pursed my lips. “please?” I asked.

  She shook her head. I stood and moved round to where she sat, I dropped down to my knees in front of her chair, “let me hug you Penny.” I said and she gave me a sad smile.

  “I did,” she squeaked.

  I leaned forward and put my arms around her and she sagged into them, dropping her head on my shoulder, I lifted her and she let me. I turned so I sat on the chair and she sat on my lap, she cuddled into my shoulder and I kissed her head. I kept my eyes trained on Ivy and watched as she breathed in and out, her little body moving sharply with the effort, “she’s going to be fine,” I told Penny rubbing her back and hoping to hell that I was right.

  There was an armchair in the corner of our curtained area and at some point I lifted Penny and shifted us so we were both on there. I fell asleep with my head dropped back on the top of it and Penny slept with her head on my shoulder. I was startled awake by a noise somewhere in the ward and shot upright to see Penny sat by Ivy’s bed again and no longer curled on my knee.

  “Is she okay?” I asked, my voice hoarse from sleep.

  “She’s still sleeping,” she said quietly.

  I scooted forward to where she sat and put my hand on her shoulder, “she looks peaceful,” I added.

  “She’s still out of it,” she told me, turning to give me a worried glance, “I just want those tests back.”

  “It won’t be long,” I ran my hand gently up and down her arm and she nodded solemnly.

  “I better call my dad, tell him I won’t be in work.” I said standing.

  “Please can you text Gail and tell her the same, she has all my yoga contacts to cancel.” she said.

  “Will do,” I patted her shoulder as I stepped into the corridor.

  My dad answered on the second ring, “morning son,” he said.

  “Hi Dad,” I sighed.

  “What’s up?” I heard the sudden concern in his voice and imagined him sitting straight up in bed.

  “I’m not going to be in today, Ivy is in the hospital with suspected meningitis,” I said, the tiredness showing in my voice, I felt like my eyes were sunken in my head and my breath tasted stale.

  “Oh my goodness,” Dad hadn’t stayed away from the office in recent months even though I wished he would, which worked out great for times like this. “What’s happening, is she okay?”

  “She had a high temperature and Penny couldn’t get it down so she was admitted and they have treated her for meningitis, no rash but treating it just in case as the rash is the last thing to appear,” I told him, swallowing hard and placing my hand on my forehead. “We’re knackered.”

  “I bet, when will you know? Did they do tests?” he asked and I heard Mum twittering in the background.

  “They’ve taken bloods and swabs, we should know today,” I told him.

  “It’s Matt, he’s at the hospital, Ivy has suspected meningitis and they’re waiting for results,” I heard him tell Mum off the phone. I heard muffled words.

  “Matt it’s mum,” I held back a groan and rolled my eyes.

  “Mum I have to go I can’t stay on the phone,” I rubbed the back of my head and let out a tired whine.

  “Should we come up there? What can we do?” she chattered anxiously.

  “No, no, parents only,” I said solemnly. “I’ll call in a couple of hours.”

  “Okay,” she croaked, “keep me informed, we love you and kiss Ivy for me.”

  “Will do, love you too,” I turned back to the curtained area to see Penny poking her head out and watching me on the phone. “You okay?” I walked back to her.

  She nodded with a shy smile, “I just need to pop to the loo.”

  “Right, I’ll man the fort,” I patted her shoulder gently as she walked past me and she turned back to give me a smile that I think said she was happy I was there. I texted Gail for her and sat down next to Ivy, rubbed her hand gently with my finger and watched as she moved her head around a little trying to get comfortable. Her temperature was still higher than it should be but at a manageable level. She had been stirring for a few minutes but not quite opening her eyes when Penny came back in.

  “When did the temperature start?” I asked in an even tone as she sat in the chair on the other side of the bed.

  “I noticed it when I first picked her up from your mums, I gave her lunch and Calpol but it wasn’t coming down then she fell asleep and I couldn’t wake her properly,” she sniffed, “I was so scared,” her voice croaked.

  “You should have called me then.” I said calmly, “I’m always here for you, both of you.” I told her with in a serious tone, levelling my eyes with her. “I know things haven’t been great between us but I hope we can be friends.”

  Her eyes glossed a little and she looked away from me. “I’d like that,” she said in a whisper. “Times like this make me realise how alone I really am,” she uttered and my heart ached at her admission. I’d spent a long time thinking over what had been said and done and how I could have done things differently and if she felt alone, then I’d definitely done something wrong.

  Ivy stirred and her little eyes peeped open, she saw me first, “hey little girl.” I said in a soothing tone. Her mouth turned up in a small smile but she got fussy quickly.

  Penny walked round to where I sat and we both leaned over her, rubbing her head and kissing her cheeks. I pressed the buzzer for the nurse so we could see if we could pick her up with the drip attached.

  The nurse arrived and we managed to move so that Penny sat in the armchair and Ivy could be positioned on her lap, still attached to the drip. I watched them in their mummy and daughter cocoon and my heart swelled with love. I wished I could go back to the time when Penny saw me the way I saw her, when I hadn’t got confused and tried to do the right thing by taking a step back. Penny had given her everything to what we were and now I had a feeling that I only had one chance and I’d blown it.

  “Should I go and get us some food?” I asked her once Ivy had settled on her lap and was dozing again.

  “Okay, great” she smiled at me with pure joy and I walked to hover ove
r the two of them.

  “Does she seem brighter than yesterday?” I asked.

  Penny glanced up at me with relief etched on her face “much better,” she uttered, “she was so lethargic yesterday, totally out of it.”

  “She still seems a bit grumpy but she recognises us,” I said, bending to gently touch Ivy’s head.

  “Yes,” Penny nodded.

  We spent the day on the Children’s ward, Ivy wasn’t awake for much of it and when the food came at lunch time we barely got any of it down her but she did try the jelly and ice cream. I checked in with my parents and they were anxious to hear news which constantly set my phone alight. Mid-afternoon the doctor came round to see us.

  “So,” he pulled Ivy’s chart and read through the notes, adding some paperwork he had with him, “Ivy Strauss,” he nodded to us.

  “Yes,” Penny said, standing to see the doctor and I followed suit.

  “It isn’t meningitis,” he said quickly and we both sighed with relief. Penny started to get upset and so I stepped sideways to put a steadying arm around her, “which we hoped for considering she had been partly immunised but we can’t be too careful where meningitis is concerned.” We both nodded and hung on his every word.

  “Looks like a nasty urinary infection,” the doctor added, “the antibiotics we started her on for the meningitis will fight that, I’m going to reduce the dose for tonight given that we have seen an improvement since she was admitted and we’ll send you home tomorrow with antibiotics.”

  “Oh thank goodness,” Penny gushed, thank you so much.

  “Thank you,” I said to him, giving him a grateful smile and he nodded.

  “Good news and make sure you bring her straight in if that temperature kicks up again, okay?”

  “Yes, yes we will,” I added and he turned on his heels, passing the nurse the paperwork to organise.

  Penny turned into me and I hugged her to my body holding her as she cried tears of relief, I bent to kiss her head and inhaled her sweet scent. I’d missed this, missed her and the way she had wanted me close. I was crazy to think that maybe this was manufactured or forced, every need and urge I had where she was concerned was so organic, it was primal. I wanted to hold her, protect her and care for her. She was part of my heart, part of my healing and only when I got to be so close to her did I realise what I had truly thrown away. I didn’t think she’d ever believe that now.

  “Can we visit?” Mum asked later as I answered their worried phone call.

  “She’ll be out tomorrow,” I said, “the ward is very quiet, lots of poorly kids so I think you should wait.”

  “Well do you need clothes or food or money?” I laughed at her last comment.

  “I have my bank card Mum, but thanks and there’s a canteen, we’re fine for now if we get back home tomorrow,” I told her, “but if not then maybe come in and I can take Penny home for a change of clothes.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure.”

  “Thanks Mum,” I hung up and pulled the curtain back to see Ivy settled on Penny’s lap again.

  “You okay for another night?” I asked, “shall I go and get us some clothes and stuff?”

  She looked up at me, “really?”

  “Yeah,” I shrugged, “I could go and get you some clean underwear and more comfy clothes and then you could grab a shower.”

  “Don’t you mind?”

  “Nah” I shook my head, “it won’t take an hour.”

  “Okay,” she grinned “thanks Matt.”

  I watched how happy she was and my heart soared, maybe I’d be forgiven, maybe I’d prove myself but regardless I’d do anything to see that smile.

  We were discharged the next afternoon, “will you two stay with me please?” I asked.

  “No,” Penny shook her head, then glanced back to see Ivy snuggled up in her car seat. She was still warm but her temperature was normal, she was still grouchy and tired and so being snuggled up in a blanket was keeping her calm.

  “Please,” I turned to face her and her light, blue eyes met mine, “please, I want to look after you both.”

  “Matt,” she sighed, “I just ... I want to be at home.”

  “I can make you feel at home,” I told her, my lips pursed in a determined stare. “Let me make dinner and look after you both, just for a few days.”

  “We’re not ... together anymore,” she said looking forward and not at me.

  “Friends,” I nodded.

  She turned back with a sad smile, she looked exhausted, I wanted them both with me. She covered her face with her hands, “I need some stuff from home.”

  I nodded, “done.” I started the engine and set off before there was a hint of her changing her mind, “I’ll make us a lovely dinner, you can soak in the bath and you can take my bed.”

  She nodded, “friends,” she said.

  I waited for her to pack some stuff for them both, Ivy had fallen asleep so I sat in the car while she ran upstairs. When she came back down she stuffed a small bag into the backseat of the car next to Ivy and then rejoined me in the front. I smelled a waft of perfume that she had probably just sprayed and I wanted to reach out and touch her somehow but had to stop myself.

  When I pulled into my driveway with them both in the car I felt relieved that we were at least back to a small part of where we used to be. The place felt too big and lonely most of the time but these two made it feel more like a home. I hadn’t had chance to tidy round for their arrival and the place was exactly as I had abandoned it two days before. Penny grabbed her bag and I reached in the back to get Ivy, I shushed her so she’d stay asleep and her head rested on my shoulder snoozing as we walked to the front door. It felt right and it felt like a small victory even though it was because our baby was sick.

  I opened up the door and Penny ducked to pick up my mail, we walked to the back of the house into the kitchen and she placed it on the counter top. It had been just over a month since Ivy’s party and that was the last time she’d been here.

  “It’s messy,” Penny grinned at me, there were pots unwashed in the sink, glasses dotted around the countertops, various pieces of crap out and not put away and on the floor in the kitchen was a lot of washing.

  I shrugged, “I used to try when you came round,” I smirked.

  She glanced around. “You’re a slob.”

  I laughed, Ivy stirred and lifted her head, “I think we should try to feed her,” I said and Penny nodded.

  “I’ll make some fish fingers and mash,” she said. She knew where everything was in my house and started to open the freezer, “maybe go bath her and get her in her jamas?”

  I nodded, “team work,” I grinned.

  “Team work,” she repeated with a wary eye.

  Ivy was fussy when I got her undressed, so rather than a full bath I just gave her a once over with the sponge as she stood in the bath. I managed to get clean pyjamas on and when we went back downstairs her dinner was almost ready, she reached out for Penny when she saw her and I handed her over.

  “Awww mummy,” I grinned. Penny smiled back.

  “Hello?” I heard the front door click open and the familiar voice of my mum.

  “Oh shit,” I muttered and Penny gave me a knowing smile, I rolled my eyes.

  “Matt?” Mum entered the kitchen from the hallway followed by Dad, “how is she?” she walked to where Penny held Ivy and went to grab her but Ivy pulled back and cuddled into Penny.

  “Oh the little sausage, you can see she’s not right,” Mum cooed and Ivy watched her nana with big, blue eyes hoping she wouldn’t take her from her mummy. “Get the kettle on Matt,” she said pulling her coat off, “tell me everything the doctor said.”

  “Did you know your mother had an imaginary medical degree?” Dad teased, “sit!” he told me and Penny, “I’ll make the tea, you both look exhausted.”

  “We didn’t get much sleep,” Penny said. “I just need to get Ivy’s dinner,” she added.

  “I’ll get it,” I told
her, “go and sit down.”

  I sent Penny and my mum into the living room, Dad made tea on a tray to take through and I plated up Ivy’s dinner. “Looking promising,” Dad winked, “she’s back.”

  I sighed, “under duress.”

  “Keep plugging away,” he patted my shoulder, “us Larson men are irresistible.”

  “Sorry did you say pushovers?” I raised an eyebrow to him.

  “I may be henpecked son but I’m well cared for,” he laughed and lifted the tray, “just keep chipping away you’ll get there.”

  “If Mum hasn’t scared her away yet,” I grinned and we both went to join the women in the living room.

  Chapter 38 - Penny

  BEING ALONE NEVER GETS easier. As a child I was very conscious that I didn’t have the mum that everyone else moaned about. She wasn’t insisting on walking me into the playground when I wanted to go with friends, she wasn’t complaining to my teacher because I’d been sat next to the naughty boy in the class and she certainly wasn’t making me read every night and putting me to bed after Eastenders. She didn’t exist.

  Sure there were good foster mums, there were good foster dads and teachers, at various times I had my good people but every single one of them was temporary ... until the dads. Them leaving for Spain felt like just one more example of why I only had myself to rely on.

  Being alone felt wrong, humans weren’t supposed to be alone.

  When your daughter is sick, being alone is very very very scary.

  I questioned if I was overreacting, I questioned if they would see me as an unfit mother, I questioned if the thermometer was even working. In the end her lethargy worried me so much that I caught a cab to primary care and then an ambulance was called to take me straight to hospital and I started crying.

  Ivy was mine, she was my only permanent, if I had her then I’d never be alone again. I would be the mum who held her hand until she wouldn’t hold it anymore, I would march into school if anyone dared pick on her, I would hear her read, push her to excel. I would be the mum I never had. I valued her above all else and her being in danger was the closest to my own death that I had ever felt. So I called Matt.