Chapter 28 Daniel
Chapter twenty-eight
Daniel
The following week, my worst nightmare happens.
Nell: Just wanted to let you know Danny's come down with a small fever. I gave her some medicine before she fell asleep and she feels fine now
I didn’t hesitate.
Me: I'm coming over
My knuckles are turning white the harder I grip the steering wheel of my car. It’s eleven at night, and I’d FaceTime’d with my girls earlier today. I jerk the steering wheel hard, darting around traffic to get to the suburbs of Northern Virginia and to my girls; my daughter.
Flashbacks of my sister assault my vision.
The phone call. The doctor’s office. The funeral home. The funeral. My father comforting my mother as if they both weren’t directly responsible for her death. My stomach aches and clenches in on itself with anxiety.
The logical part of my brain is screaming that kids get fevers and that Nell notices things like this and already said her fever was down.
The father part of my brain is drowning out the logic - running on fear and adrenaline.
I’ve never felt as out of control like this in my entire life. I’ve never been so scared.
I just need to lay eyes on her. To prove to myself that she really is okay. To stay up and watch her tonight so I can keep an eye on her fever. It’s not that I don’t trust Nell, but the part of me that loves Danny needs this.
My car bumps roughly over the end of their driveway as I park crookedly, shut off the engine and toss the keys back in the car. I’m at the front door in three strides.
The front door gives and opens, and part of the fear turns to anger. Why the fuck isn’t their door locked? Anyone could have come in, and my girls are exposed.
I take the stairs three at a time and throw open the doors. First bedroom’s empty. Second bedroom - empty. Third bedroom has a just woken, terrified Gen in a sleep gown.
“Nell. Danny. Where are they?” I bark, my voice just short of shouting.
Startled, she points behind me. “In their room. In the basement.”
Ice slides through my veins, but my need propels me . I saw the basement door by the garage when I came for family dinner. I take the stairs back down three at a time before storming through the kitchen and taking the basement stairs three at a time.
What I see threatens to unravel me as a man. Unfinished walls, cement floor, a few blankets and rugs and two mattresses on the floor - one holding a shocked Nell, and the other a sleeping Danny.
All of this is wrong. All of this is unacceptable. And I try not to let the situation hit me personally, but fury roars through me at the sight.
“Daniel? What’s wrong?” Nell asks.
I clench my jaw, biting back the words I know are too harsh, too rash.
Danny looks so small on her mattress, hugging her unicorn plushy to her body. She looks pale too, although it may just be the fluorescent lighting coming from the entryway.
In an instant, I’ve made my decision.
“I’m taking her to the hospital,” I say, kneeling so I can scoop her sleeping form into my arms.
“What? Why? Her fever’s down,” Nell says, scrambling to her feet to follow me. She grabs her bag and slips on some flip-flops, and jogs behind to keep up with me.
I bite back a response. I’m self-aware enough to know I’m not in control of myself right now, and I don’t want to say anything I can’t take back.
Nell doesn’t push. She jogs in front of me to open the back door of my car. I lay Denny gently down in the back seat before sliding into the driver’s seat. Nell beat me to the passenger seat.
“Are you okay to drive?” she asks simply.
I nod once before starting the car, throwing it in reverse and pulling out onto the street. Luckily, the nearest ER is less than ten minutes away. Nell’s silent the entire car ride.
I pull up into the emergency bay, leave my car running and scoop Danny back up into my arms again. She’s so small. She weighs almost nothing. It could take something as small as a fever to take her from me. And that fear pulls the air from my lungs.
I march up to the reception and begin to explain what we need. The nurse behind the counter is already on the phone, so she holds up a finger to me to wait.
I press the button on her phone to end the call.
She narrows her eyes at me, but I really don’t fucking care.
“We need to be admitted. I need a private family suite, and Doctor Nguyen if she’s on call,” I demand.
“That’s not how this works, sir. You need to fill out some paperwork and have a seat. You’ll be called for your turn.” Her voice is unamused and full of ice.
Fuck that.
I hoist Danny up onto my chest so I can reach into my back pocket for my phone. Nell reaches her hands out to take her from me, but I can’t let her go yet.
I dial a number.
“Tina. Are you working tonight?” She barely responds before I continue. “I’m here with my daughter. I need a private family suite, and I need you to look at her right now.” I manage to keep the shake out of my voice, but just barely.
She tells me to hand the phone to the receptionist, who takes it, listens, and widens her eyes at me.
She ends the call, hands my phone back, and motions to the elevators. “Floor four.”
I nod and stomp to the elevators, stabbing the up button until the bell dings with the arrival of the car.
Nell’s silent as we ride up, and I’m grateful for it. I’m well aware I’m freaking out. I’m also well aware of what a child’s casket looks like.
Tina’s face is the first thing that greets us as the doors slide open. I heave a sigh of relief.
“We have you in four-oh-seven,” she says, guiding us down the hall into an empty room. I follow, laying Danny down on the gurney gently.
Tina pulls on a pair of gloves from a thing on the wall. “What seems to be going on?” I falter, but Nell saves me.
“Two hours ago, she spiked a fever of one-oh-one point six. I gave her five milliliters of Tylenol, and when she went to bed, her fever was gone,” Nell says, her hand coming to rub gently on my tense back.
“I see,” Tina says, motioning for the nurse that followed us in to take Danny’s temperature. She does before saying, “Ninety-eight point five.”
Tina feels around Danny’s neck, her armpits, her groin, before gently pressing in on her stomach. Danny squirms and mumbles in her sleep, but doesn’t wake.
Satisfied, Tina pulls her gloves off.
“Well, her lymph nodes aren’t swollen, her stomach is soft and non-reactive, her temperature is managed for now, but I’m glad you brought her in.
We’ll keep an eye on her overnight, and if her fever returns, we can run an IV to keep her hydrated and administer meds as needed.
When she wakes up, I’d like to take a look at her eyes and throat, but right now rest is the best thing for her,” Tina says, and I nod gratefully.
I wrap my arm around Tina’s shoulders in a side hug.
It might not be professional, but Tina’s family.
She’s Harrison’s sister’s wife and one of the first members of The White Envelope.
“Thank you, Tee,” I say, suddenly exhausted.
I slump in the chair next to Danny’s head and hold her hand in mine. I splay her small fingers against my palm. She looks so small in such a large bed. Her hand looks tiny in mine.
“The call button is here, sir. Press it if you need anything,” the short nurse says, showing me the button attached to a cord.
I nod, the adrenaline from earlier fading and a numbness creeps in.
After a long, silent moment of just watching Danny’s chest rise and fall softly in sleep, Nell walks over and runs a hand up and down my back soothingly. I stiffen. My fear may have ebbed, but my anger hasn’t.
“Not here. Not now,” I say, and her hand stills before it leaves my back.
She walks to the opposite side of the room and sits in one of the chairs.
“You’re angry at me,” she says, and I pinch my eyes closed. I really wanted more time to calm down before we hashed this out, but I guess I’m out of time.
I set Danny’s hand down on the bed and push to my feet. I drag both hands through my hair in frustration, blowing out an angry breath. After pacing a few laps in the small room, I stop, leveling her with a glare.
“What else can I do?” I ask, hurt and despair finally joining anger when I look into her sad green eyes.
“What do you mean?” she asks quietly; carefully.
“I’ve offered you everything. Money, a home, me - my body, my mind, my soul, my life.
But it’s not enough.” A hot, angry tear squeezes out and burns a path down my cheek.
I swipe at it roughly, but Nell didn’t miss it.
“I’m a man, laying everything I can at your feet, begging you to see me - to choose me.
And you prefer to live in a basement, alone.
I...” I bite my lower lip and turn away so she can’t see it wobble.
I fist my hair again in frustration but remain staring out of the dark windows.
Her voice is small when she responds, but I hear every word like a physical blow. “I promised my father I wouldn’t let the family fall apart.”
“That’s not your family!” I whisper-shout, spinning on her.
“You’re a slave to them! Family doesn’t treat family like that, Nell!
This...us...” I say, angrily pointing between Danny and her and me, as if my motions can make her understand better.
“We’re your family. Family loves each other.
Family’s there for each other. Family wouldn’t treat you like you’re disposable. Why can’t you see that?!”
Nell bites her bottom lip now, but I catch the tremor there.
She sets her jaw stubbornly, but my heart breaks when twin streams of tears pour down her cheeks.
My chest heaves as my heart feels torn in two.
I hate making her cry. I want to rush over to her, to hold her and tell her it will all be okay.
But the image of mattresses on a concrete floor has my blood still boiling.
The hurt that knowing she would still rather choose that life over me is too fresh to ignore.
I’m not a prideful man, but feeling so completely worthless and lacking is a hard pill to swallow.
That everything I am, everything I can offer, still isn’t enough.
I slump back down in one of the hard chairs, prop my elbows on my knees and drop my hand into my hands, miserable.
I listen as Nell cries softly. And while the sound physically hurts to hear, I deserve the punishment. Self-loathing creeps in, and I don’t know where we go from here.
Am I done with her? Not by a long shot. Am I furious with her? Yes. Am I devastated by the idea that I’m not enough for her? Absolutely. Maybe she’s right. Maybe the best we can hope for is co-parenting. Because I can’t make her choose me. I tried.
I tried.
And I failed.
“Are you mad at my mommy?” a small voice asks.
I look up to see Danny sitting up, hands nervously working the sheet over her lap as she takes Nell and me in.
I give her a sad smile as Nell wipes at her tears, trying to hide them.
Of course she doesn’t want Danny to know we’re fighting, or that anything is wrong.
She would dig her own kidney out with a spoon if it meant protecting our little girl from the hardships of reality.
I stand briefly before sitting down on the foot of her bed. I rest my hand over hers.
“Yes. Yes, I am,” I say honestly.
Big brown eyes look up at me. “Does that mean you’re going to leave us again?” she asks, and my heart breaks. I never left them. But I can see how a four-year-old would simplify things.
I shake my head. “I never left you. I lost you.” I drop a kiss to her hair. “And no. I’m never losing you two again. I can love your mother and be mad at her at the same time.” My heart clenches in on itself painfully at the truth in my words.
Danny’s eyes light up. “Oh! Mommy told me about that. Um-con-didi-tal love, right?” She struggles to form her mouth around the word and completely botches it, but it makes me smile, anyway.
“Yeah, baby girl. Unconditional love. That’s what makes a family a family.”
I finally look up at Nell, hoping she can see the sincerity in my eyes. “I will always love you and your mother. No matter what you do.”
Nell’s face falls, and she loses the battle to not cry openly.
She stands quickly, running a hand down Danny’s hair.
“I’m going to go for a quick walk. Your daddy’s here, and he can call me if you need me, okay, baby girl? I just need a minute.”
Danny looks adoringly at her mother and nods.
And before I can say another word, Nell’s gone.