by Clare Revell
“OK.” She raised her gaze to his. “Why take the milk?”
“In case that’s what made him sick,” David said honestly. “I got them to test it, but it was fine. I overreacted. I get the milk by the caseload because it’s cheaper. If you want him on the stronger formula then I’ll change the order first thing.”
“Thank you, but I can just as easily buy it myself.”
He shook his head. “It’s cheaper this way and Hanna didn’t have a problem with it. I should put Marc down. Hopefully, he’ll sleep through tonight.”
Eden looked at him. “If he wakes, I’ll get up tonight. We should take it in turns. I know you want to do your part, but it isn’t fair if you’re up every night.”
David nodded. “OK, you can get him tonight.” He headed to the door.
“David…” Her voice sent another torrent of rampant desire through him.
“Yes, Eden?”
“We’ll go to my parents tomorrow and come back the following day. I’ll get Dad to come and pick us up. Good night.”
8
Eden strapped Marc into his high chair and put the lunch bowl of pureed chicken and vegetables in front of him. Marc grinned at her, smearing it across the tray.
David came in, bags under his eyes, looking pale. He went straight to the coffee pot and poured a large mug.
She felt no better than he looked. Her mum and dad had doted on Marc the previous evening and she’d taken the opportunity to visit Eric and Hanna’s graves, but the misty rain had turned her sniffles of the last few days into a full blown cold.
“Late night?” Eden asked. Was he truly waking up after noon?
“Yes.” He sipped the coffee, leaning against the counter.
“You look terrible.”
“You sound terrible.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do we have any paracetamol?”
“Top cupboard. I just put it back.” She waited for him to turn around after he retrieved two pills from the box. “You shouldn’t drink.”
“I wasn’t drinking.”
Eden inclined her head to the glasses on the side. Every one of them contained residue of amber liquid. “I thought you’d quit drinking.”
“It’s been over one hundred days since I last took a drink.”
She sipped her tea. “That’s a long time.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and swallowed the pills with coffee. “Yeah and yet not so much. It isn’t easy. I never should have started when I was in school. Everyone was doing it.”
“Rebellious youth?” she asked, hoping he’d actually talk to her. She missed the long conversations they used to have about everything and nothing. Back in the days when he actually spoke to her rather than sniped like he did now.
He nodded. “I guess so. But one drink led to another until I was getting plastered most weekends. Then, it became the only way to get through the day, cope with work, relax with mates and so on. For a while, it eased off. But after we broke up it just increased a lot.” He chugged down the coffee and refilled the cup.
“So it’s my fault?”
He shook his head. “No. Work pressures increased and so did the drinking until I couldn’t get through the day without it.”
“What made you stop?”
“I came home drunk one morning. Hanna was waiting for me. Marc was about six weeks old or so. She wanted me to drive her to the doctors. Once she smelled alcohol, she refused to let me take her because I wasn’t in a fit state to do so. We fought and I gave in and let her take the keys. She was hit by a drunk driver as she pulled off the drive.”
“I remember,” Eden said. “She didn’t tell me that was why she was driving though.”
“She wasn’t hurt, but it brought me up short. That drunk driver could have been me. I had to do something. She could have died because…” He broke off. “Maybe she did…”
Eden shook her head. “I know you’re caught up with work, so you may not have heard the report. The plane crash was an accident. They found a piece of the engine rotor and several feathers and part of a wing embedded in the hydraulic cable. Looks like a bird got sucked into the engine and caused the accident.”
Relief flittered in his gaze before the shutters once more came down. “I have to go. I’m meeting with Liam during his lunch break.”
Eden looked at the clock. “It’s twelve thirty.”
David put his mug in the sink. “He’s on lunch from one until two today. I’ll be out the rest of the day.”
“OK. We, uh…” She took a deep breath, offering an olive branch. “We need more formula. Could you order some as you can get it cheaper than I can?”
He nodded. “I’ll go and give the supplier a call now and I’ll bring it home with me tonight.”
****
The day dragged. Eden was almost glad of the constant rain that meant she had to stay inside.
David came in. “Hi. How was your day?”
“It went.” She coughed hard. “I might call it a night, if you don’t mind taking care of Marc until he goes to bed.”
“Sure, I can do that. I’m in all evening.” Concern filled his face. “Are you all right? It’s not even six-thirty yet.”
“Not feeling so good.”
He crossed the room and laid a hand on her forehead. “You’re burning up.”
“Death warmed up doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel.”
“Is there anything I can do? I can make you some hot lemon. Mum always made that when we were sick as kids.”
Touched by the momentary show of concern, she still shook her head. “No, but thank you for the offer. G’night.” She sneezed, shivering. Her whole body ached as if she’d been hit by a bus. Slowly, Eden headed into the hallway. Somehow she made it up the stairs and into her bedroom. Tugging the covers around her, she shivered and shook, wondering if she’d ever be warm again.
****
By quarter to seven the following morning, David was more than a little concerned. Eden was normally up with the lark, having gotten at least six things done before five thirty in the morning. He put Marc into his activity chair and grabbed the coffee pot. He poured Eden a cup and took the stairs two at a time. He knocked on her door. There was no answer.
Had he missed her and she’d already left on a morning run? Highly unlikely as she would have left him a note or taken Marc with her. He knocked again and then opened the door a little. The room was still in darkness. “Eden?”
There was still no answer. David crossed the room. The scent of lavender and vanilla, her scent, filled the air, bringing a sharp twist of memory with it. She’d worn that fragrance while they were dating. Even now he couldn’t walk through the perfumery department of a store without thinking of her.
He set the coffee on the bedside table. The figure on the bed was motionless. “Eden?” He reached out, shaking her shoulder gently. “Eden, it’s time to wake up.”
Her breathing was rattled; her body shook under his light touch. His fingers brushed her shoulder and then her forehead. She was burning up.
David strode to the window, pulled back the curtains, and opened the window, letting the chill spring breeze steal into the room. “Eden?”
She groaned, her eyes flickering, hands groping for the covers as she shivered. Finding them, she pulled them tightly over herself, not really waking.
David ran quickly into Hanna’s room and grabbed the thermometer from the top of the chest of drawers. He put it in her ear and waited for it to beep.
Tugging his phone from his belt, he rang the out of hour’s surgery. It rang for ages before someone answered. He took a deep breath. “Hi, I’m calling about my housemate. She’s got a temperature of forty, she’s non responsive. Would it be possible for the doctor to come and see her?”
“I’m afraid he’s not making any more house calls or seeing anyone now. Call your own GP when they open this morning.”
“That isn’t for another hour, but OK.” He hung up
What do I do? An
ambulance could be another overreaction like with Marc, but Eden’s burning up, and I don’t want to lose her, too.
He looked at his phone, running his finger tip over the contact list. Dr. Jackson Parker was his GP, but he was also a friend from church, hence his personal number was programmed into the phone. Would it be an abuse of that friendship if he called him? He could at least ask for advice if nothing else.
His finger touched the call button.
The call answered on the fourth ring. “Hello?”
“Hi, Jackson, it’s David. Sorry for calling so early.”
His friend yawned. “Not a problem,” he drawled in his Texan accent. “I had to get up anyway. What’s up? Is it Marc?”
“No. It’s Marc’s aunt. I went to wake Eden, and she’s really—”
“Eden?” All trace of tiredness vanished from Jackson’s voice. “The Eden you told me never to mention again, on pain of death I hasten to add, after you broke up? She’s living in your house?”
“Keep up,” David groaned. “She’s here taking care of Marc, she was Hanna’s sister-in-law. She’s really sick—non responsive, burning up.”
“You’ve taken her temperature?”
“Forty, probably more than that now. What do I do?”
“Call the out of hour’s service, get someone to see her.”
“I did. They said they’re not seeing anyone now and to ring my GP practice when they open at eight, but I’ll never get through, and even if I do get an answer before nine, all the appointments will have gone. So I wondered about an ambulance. Then, thought I’d call you and ask for some advice.”
“I’ll do better than that.” Jackson’s tone became authoritative. “I’m your GP, so even though Eden isn’t one of my patients, I’ll come see her. As a personal favor. Give me ten minutes. Try and get her temp down. Use a damp wash cloth—flannel to wipe her arms and face. Tepid water, not cold. Don’t take Marc anywhere near her. OK?”
“Will do. Thanks, Jackson.” David hung up. He stood, intending to go and get a flannel. From downstairs there was a crash, and Marc began crying. He flew down the stairs, expecting to find the chair tipped and Marc hurt. Instead the plate of toast David had made for himself was on the floor.
Marc was getting more mobile. He didn’t know how the infant had managed to grab the plate, but just muttered a prayer of thanks that Marc hadn’t been injured.
David picked up the plate and bread, and put the bottle into warm water to heat it. “Did you want the toast?”
Marc looked at him and screamed louder.
“Cereal?” David dumped some dried baby food into a bowl and added a little formula in to mix it. In David’s haste he tipped the box spilling more over the work top than anywhere else.
The doorbell rang as the bottle warmer chimed. David tested the milk and picked up Marc. He put the baby on his hip, trying to balance the child, the bottle and himself as he walked to the door. Marc snatched at the bottle, insisting on drinking at the same time. David opened the door. “How does Auntie Eden do this so effortlessly every day? I can’t manage it once.”
Jackson stood there. “She’s a woman and infinitely better at child care than you, my friend,” he said.
David scowled. “And you are way too chirpy for this hour of the day.”
Jackson smirked. “That’s due to the wonderful wakeup call from a friend.”
“Ack,” David replied. He stepped aside allowing Jackson entry.
Jackson took off his cowboy hat and balanced it on the bottom of the bannisters. “So, where’s Auntie Eden?”
“I’ll show you.” David started up the stairs, to find a hand restraining him.
“Not with the baby, you don’t. What if she’s infectious?”
“Oh, right.” Feeling a total fool for not having considered that, David stepped aside. “Up the stairs and it’s the third door on the right.”
“I’ll find it.”
David returned to the kitchen and sat Marc on his lap. He picked up the bowl of cereal. Marc put his hands into it and smeared it across everything he could reach. David sighed, trying to get the spoon of food into the baby’s mouth. Marc knocked it from his hand to the floor. “OK, fine. Have the bottle back.”
David leaned back in the chair and offered Marc the bottle. The baby grabbed it and waved it, showering milk right along with the baby cereal. “There must be an easier way.”
“There is. Put him in the highchair.” Jackson’s amused voice came from the doorway.
David glanced up. “How’s Eden?”
Jackson dumped his bag on the only clean spot and took the baby from David, setting him in the highchair. “She has bronchitis. You don’t feed Marc very often, huh?”
“It’s Eden’s job.” David grabbed a cloth and wiped his hands, and then his T-shirt.
“Well, for the next few days it’s your job, my friend. Eden needs a course of antibiotics and rest.” He handed David the bowl. “Now sit and give him a spoon to play with while you feed him.”
“How did you learn all this stuff?”
“That would be telling.” Jackson washed his hands. “There’s a script for you to take to the pharmacist. The sooner the better.”
“I can’t take time off work to babysit.”
Jackson’s eyebrow vanished into his fringe. “You have no choice. Eden’s sick. I really think you should drop the little man with the grandparents for the next day or so.” Coughing echoed from upstairs. “Eden needs those meds. If she’s no better in a couple of days, ring her GP.”
“I have no idea who that is. I haven’t seen you in that capacity for ages, either. Maybe I just register her with you for now.”
“Sure, you know where we are.” Jackson ruffled Marc’s hair. “You be good for Uncle David. I’ll see myself out. Call me.”
“I will.” David looked at Marc. “So, after I clean this up, we go get Auntie Eden’s medicine. First we ring Nanny and Grandad and see if they can take you for a while. Then I have to try and sort out the rest of this mess. And work.”
Eden’s parents were only too happy to take Marc. Once Marc was in his car seat and a bag packed for a few days for him, David went upstairs to Eden’s room. As he entered the room, Eden lay curled on her side, coughing and wheezing.
“Eden?” he sat on the edge of the bed next to her. “How are you doing?”
“Feel awful,” she whispered.
“I’m going to get some meds. I won’t be long.”
“Take Marc to Mum. She’ll keep him. OK?”
“It’s already arranged; I’m on my way there now. You sleep for a while.” David brushed the hair from her face and stood. As he left the room, his phone rang. “Yes.”
“I need you to make two deliveries.” Granger didn’t bother with the niceties either. “And within the next hour.”
“I can’t,” David said.
“I suggest you find a way. They’re expecting you.” The phone went dead.
At least doing Granger’s delivery today meant the stuff had only been in the house a few hours.
Somehow, he wasn’t quite sure how, David managed to drop Marc off at Eden’s parents place, stop by the pharmacy and get back home in forty minutes.
He checked on Eden and gave her the meds. Praying she’d be OK for the next hour or so, he then crossed the hallway to his old room.
The train layout filled it. He grabbed the packages from under the train station. He just hoped Eden hadn’t checked out the set like she kept threatening to do. There was no way he could explain the drugs.
Then, he headed back out. He should just make it.
9
Eden existed only in a haze of heat, cold and a racking cough that left her gasping for breath, but the one constant was David. Now David’s voice rose in anger in a one-sided conversation.
“I told you, she’s mine…Yeah, I will, right now she can’t go anywhere…I understand that…yeah, I’ll deal with her.”
Deal with who? Her? Someon
e else?
Another coughing fit wracked her.
David’s voice grew closer. “I have to go.”
Something clicked and rattled by her head.
David’s hand lifted her from the pillow. “Take a deep breath on this, Eden.” He put something plastic and hard in her mouth. She breathed deeply and then coughed as the medication filled her lungs.
“And again.”
But it worked and breathing became easier.
Another voice floated through the darkness surrounding her. “Hi, Eden. It’s Dr. Parker again. David asked me to come back and check on you. Next time go to the doctor before you come down with pneumonia.”
Eden struggled to open her eyes. The owner of the new voice looked more like a cowboy than a doctor. Definitely sick, her mind told her. She agreed with the cowboy. The slight movement caused another paroxysm of coughing that left her gasping and breathless. She took another puff on whatever medication the cowboy offered her.
“It’s OK, just lie still. Nod or shake your head in reply. OK?”
Eden nodded.
“I want to listen to your chest and take your pulse.” His touch was gentle and she coughed when he asked her.
She wasn’t sure when he left or when she woke again. All she could hear was David’s loud, angry voice in the hallway.
“Put the gun away,” David said. “She’s not a cop, and if she is, I’ll deal with her. She’s my problem.”
****
David sat beside Eden’s bed. She seemed to be better, cooler at any rate, and had slept better than she had done in five days. She wasn’t as breathless anymore either. The bed creaked and he glanced up from his paper to see her lying on her side, looking at him. He smiled. “Hello. How are you doing?”
“Thirsty.” Her tongue ran over her dry and cracked lips.
He picked up the glass of juice and offered it, holding the straw in place for her.
She took several long sips. “Thank you. How long was I asleep?”
“Better part of two days.” He put the glass down.
