Chapter 54
FIFTY-FOUR
CALLUM
- Twelve Years Old -
“ A re you sure it’s okay? Leaving her here while we’re gone?”
“Myra, it’s fine. We’ve got this. Sutton’s got her antibiotics, and we can give her Tylenol if the fever comes back. We have dealt with sick kiddos a time or two, you know.” Dad’s voice is teasing as he speaks to Mrs.Farley.
“I know that, but usually when Sutton is over, Lena’s here too. And with her being sick. . .”
It’s not hard to hear the hesitation in her voice. Lena and Sutton have taken turns staying at each other’s houses tons of times whenever I had an away game, but this is probably the first time Sutton’s had to stay over while Lena was gone for one of her competitions.
“Honestly, Myra. We’ve got this. I’ll make sure she gets her meds when needed, and she can stay in Lena’s room like she usually does.
Aside from the sore throat and fever, there’s really not much different than any other time she’s stayed over.
There’s no reason that you and Josh shouldn’t go out to celebrate your anniversary tonight. It’ll be fine, I promise.”
“Okay, well if you’re sure . . . Here’s a list of our emergency contact numbers, and a list of her medications and dosages.
She had her first round of antibiotics this morning, and the next dose should be around dinner tonight.
Aside from that, popsicles should be fine as a snack if her throat gets too sore, and I made soup for her. It’s in the container on the counter.”
I lose track of what they’re saying as Sutton comes to stand in front of me. She looks sad, huddled up in a blanket, and holding tightly to a stuffie I haven’t seen in several years.
“Can I sit with you?”
I grumble under my breath, but she just stares at me with those big blue eyes of hers.
I give in, shifting over on the couch to make room for her to sit before grabbing the remote.
I was in the middle of watching a game replay, but if she isn’t feeling well, she’s not gonna be up for watching hockey.
I know it’s on all the time at her house; Coach Farley likes to keep up with the latest plays, and I hear her complain about it all the time to Lena when they’re hanging out.
She continues to stand, just watching me as I switch the tv over to one of the apps and put on The Wizard of Oz.
I can see her eyes begin to water as she glances over at the tv before looking back at me.
Rather than sitting on the far corner where I made room for her, she plops down right next to me, and I stiffen in surprise as she leans her head against my arm.
“Thanks, Cal.”
Her voice is soft, so quiet I can barely hear her.
With an exaggerated sigh, I readjust, moving my arm around her shoulders and pulling her more snugly into my side.
I may act annoyed, but she’s basically like another little sister, and I hate that she’s not feeling well.
Unlike Lena, she almost never gets sick.
I can feel the heat radiating off her feverish skin.
The fact that she isn’t commenting on her favorite movie or singing along tells me that she’s feeling a lot worse than she’s let on.
Shifting slightly, I turn so my back is tucked into the corner of the cushions and she slides further down, her head resting in my lap.
Already starting to zone out at the whiny munchkin voices on the screen, I close my eyes, running my hand over her hair the same way that Lena likes when she isn’t feeling well.
“Mr. Robinsky, I don’t feel so good.”
Sutton fell asleep shortly after the movie started, but I didn’t want to wake her so I was stuck just sitting there for hours.
At least I was able to turn the hockey game back on to drown out the sound of Dad and Mom arguing over the phone.
I don’t know why but both of them seem to think that if they hide in the other room that we can’t hear them.
These walls aren’t even close to sound proof, especially when you’re on speakerphone at full volume while yelling at one another.
Normally when it gets like this, I would go lock myself in my room and drown them out with some of my music, or go take a walk to chill in the meadow.
But I couldn’t wake up Shorty, so I just had to sit there, trying not to listen as the arguing got louder.
Eventually it stopped; though whether that was because they ended the argument, or because Mom hung up on Dad again, is anyone’s guess.
Either way, I was just glad they were done for now.
Sutton woke up a little while ago, just long enough to choke down a little bit of the soup that her mom brought over earlier, which gave me a chance to stretch my legs with a short walk and change into some new clothes.
I wasn’t even the one with a fever, but I still felt hot and sticky after several hours of her napping on me.
I’d just come back inside after my short walk, only to find her standing in the doorway of Dad’s office, looking even more miserable than she had earlier.
“I know, kiddo. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. The medicine you had should be kicking in pretty soon. Why don’t you go lie down and try to rest some more?”
When Dad’s in his office, I know that there’s not much that could pull his attention away from whatever he’s busy working on, and if Dad’s not busy with his actual work, he’s usually doing research and planning for the next steps I need to take to become the next Sidney Crosby.
Either way, it means he’s too focused right now to really pay attention to Sutton.
I’m far enough back in the hall that I know he won’t see me as I roll my eyes.
“Come on, Shorty. I’ve got ya.”
Dad just nods vaguely in our direction, already focused once more on whatever it is he was doing before.
I look at Shorty, and have to do a double-take. Geeze, she’s really not looking good. I don’t even know if she’ll be able to make it up to Lena’s room right now. Walking over to her, I turn so my back is facing her and crouch down low.
“Hop on and hold tight, Shorty.”
Weakly, she hugs my neck, her head resting tiredly against my shoulder and I reach back, interlocking my fingers under her legs to help hold her in place as I stand.
She and Lena haven’t asked for a piggy-back ride in several years but even now, she’s still short enough that it doesn’t feel much different than when she was younger.
Heading up the stairs, I instinctively turn towards my bedroom rather than Lena’s as we reach the landing.
Once inside, I turn, sitting on the edge of my bed so I can help her lay down without dropping her.
“There ya go, Shorty. Try to get some rest.”
I turn to face her, planning to tuck her in and then head back downstairs, but something is wrong. Her face, which had been fine a few minutes ago, is now all splotchy with some sort of rash, and her breathing sounds. . . wrong .
“Shorty?”
Is it me, or are the splotchy areas getting bigger?
“Sutton?”
Eyes closed, she doesn’t reply, just takes another wheezing breath.
My heart jumps into my throat. This isn’t normal.
“Dad…” I call loudly, and I know he should be able to hear me down in his office.
Something’s wrong.
“Dad! Help!”