Chapter Thirty
Thirty
A Pearl of Wisdom
from Nettie Getchell
“Darlin’, if they wanted to, they would.”
Juliet
It had been a strange week.
And it was currently being made stranger by my sister. All I’d said was that I’d met someone, and Amy had gotten quiet.
“Amy? I thought you’d be squealing. Jumping up and down. Lighting off firecrackers. What happened to you being a romantic at heart?”
“Hold on,” she said.
I shook a rattle in front of Mary Joy. She grabbed it and shoved it in her mouth. She had another tooth coming in, and her mouth rash was angry this morning, bright red. I’d put some ointment on it, but it didn’t seem to be helping.
She’d been listless, too, and crying more than usual. Right now she was sitting on a blanket, legs wide for balance, as she played with an assortment of toys.
It was Friday morning, a little past nine. Tallulah was on her way to work. In the dining room, Tenn was singing loudly—he had his headphones on, thank goodness—while he rolled ink onto his lino block. I was sitting on the floor with Mary Joy, worrying about her.
I shifted the phone on my ear. “I’m regretting telling you.”
“I said hold on.”
“Bossy!”
She then put me on mute. Mute! I had half a mind to hang up.
There was a light rap on the front door; then it opened. “Hello!” Maeve called out. “Is the coffee hot?”
I leaned backward to see down the hallway. “Hi! There’s only tea today. The coffeepot called it quits this morning.”
She was dressed for work in wide-legged slacks and a floral blouse. Her hair was pulled back in a large clip. “Frankly, I’m amazed it held on so long. It’s nearly as old as Lu.”
I loved how Maeve dropped by in the mornings on her way to work, because I knew it had more to do with checking in on her brother, Tallulah, and the girls than getting a free cup of coffee. She was a nurturer at heart.
She put the kettle on, then stuck her head in the dining room. Tenn suddenly yelled, “Good morning!”
“Headphones, Tenn!” she said, gesturing. “Headphones.”
He laughed, the sound floating from room to room, lighting the place up. “Forgot I had them on.”
He was excited to have progressed to the inking part of his project, and his cheeriness was more than welcome, since it had been rather tense here this week.
Tallulah’s efforts to hide her heartache continued.
Our couch time, as we’d come to call it, had been put on hold.
On Monday, I’d come downstairs at midnight for a glass of water and found her at the kitchen island, working on her Trivia Night proposal. “Couldn’t sleep,” she’d said sadly, her eyes red-rimmed.
On Tuesday, I spent way too much time chasing a robin around the yard, trying to see its chest. When I finally got a good look, I realized it wasn’t my robin and had myself a good cry. I hadn’t seen the robin with the white chest marking in days—or found any new feathers.
I still wasn’t dreaming.
On Wednesday, day camp wrapped up, and Katy mourned, even though she’d see most of the friends she’d made next week, when she started third grade.
On Thursday, yesterday, the tide had started to turn.
I’d gotten my car back.
Vera had asked Katy if she’d like to help her prep for the Flour Festival, which was where Katy was now.
Mary Joy had mastered sitting up.
Katy continued her streak of no nightmares.
And I’d decided to stay here in Forget-Me-Not.
As soon as I made the choice, I’d sent my resignation to my boss, effective immediately, apologizing profusely for the late notice. I didn’t give a reason, because I wanted to let my family know first. I could only hope they’d understand my choice.
Mary Joy heard Tenn’s laugh and looked up, smiled, and then dropped the rattle so she could scratch her neck. When she kept scratching, I squinted, then leaned in, trying to get a better look at what was bothering her.
Was that a hive?
When Mary Joy reached for another toy in front of her, I tried lifting her chin, but she wasn’t having it and let me know by letting out an outraged screech.
“It’s okay,” I said to her. “I just want to take a little look at—”
She squawked again, voicing her displeasure.
“All right,” I said, letting her be while I formulated a plan.
Amy finally came back on the line, saying, “Juliet, you still there?”
“I grew gray hair, but yes.”
“Ha-ha. Define met someone.”
“You sound like Mom again.”
She gasped, then forced a laugh, high and reedy. “Really? You’re so funny!”
I pulled the phone away from my ear, stared at it, before saying, “That’s it. I’m hanging up. I’ll call you later.”
“But—”
“Bye!”
I ended the call, then pretty much tackled Mary Joy, laying her onto her back. She giggled, thinking it was a game. I tipped her chin upward. There were several hives on her neck, raised and warm. “Oh no.”
Maeve came into the living room. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Mary Joy has hives on her neck.” I picked the baby up, held her close, and handed her back the rattle.
Maeve’s eyes went wide. “From what?”
My brain was sliding pieces of a puzzle together, and I was kicking myself for not recognizing sooner what had been right in front of me.
“I’m wondering if she might have a food allergy.
I can’t be sure, of course, but it makes sense with how the rash on her mouth comes and goes the way it does. It’s probably not a drool rash at all.”
“An allergy? Have mercy. But wouldn’t she be having trouble breathing? You always see that on TV.”
“With kids, most often it’s a series of mild responses, like a rash and hives, before a severe reaction like anaphylactic shock. That’s the breathing trouble you’re thinking of.”
Worry creased Maeve’s forehead, drew the corners of her lips downward. “Poor little munchkin. What’s she eaten today?”
With Mary Joy cuddled in my lap, I rocked side to side. “Tallulah fed her the usual breakfast of yogurt and oatmeal. Wait. Tenn made scrambled eggs. He gave her a few bites. I’m not sure she’s had those before.”
I brushed Mary Joy’s wispy hair off her forehead. Then I recalled that she’d had a bad reaction the day she’d eaten pancakes. The pancakes that had eggs in them.
“Does she need to go to the emergency room?” Maeve asked.
As a school nurse, I’d seen more than a few children experiencing allergic reactions, and rarely did hives require medical intervention other than an oral antihistamine or steroid treatment if the hives were especially bad.
“Since the hives are limited to her neck, I don’t think so, but Tallulah should call the pediatrician’s office to get their opinion and let them know what’s going on. ”
I picked up my phone to call Tallulah, then decided to send a text instead so she wouldn’t flat-out panic when she saw my name on her caller ID.
Me: Mary Joy is fine. Just fine. But she developed some hives after eating a few bites of Tenn’s scrambled eggs. Suspect she might be allergic to eggs.
A moment later, my phone dinged with a response.
Tallulah: OMG. I’ll call her doctor. Are you sure she’s okay?
Me: A little itchy but otherwise good
Tallulah: I know she’s due for her nap soon but can you bring her by?
I recognized her need to see for herself that Mary Joy was okay.
Me: Absolutely
Tallulah: Until we know more, no eggs!!!
Tallulah: And thank you.
I was glad she was going to call Mary Joy’s doctor. And even more grateful that eggs would be cut out of her diet until further notice.
Because I was worried.
Mary Joy had only eaten one or two bites of Tenn’s eggs. If that small amount had produced this kind of reaction, I shuddered to think about what might happen the next time.
Before heading to the library, I left Mary Joy with Tenn and ran over to Vera’s house to make sure Katy didn’t want to come along. But the minute I walked into the kitchen, I’d known she wouldn’t want to leave with me. Because Daisy was there, sitting at Katy’s feet, watching her adoringly.
Theirs was a mutual kind of love.
“We’re dog-sitting,” Vera said with an odd look in her eyes I couldn’t quite identify.
Katy sullenly said, “Daisy’s leaving soon.”
Oh, how my heart broke for her. “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. But I’m glad you’re getting this extra time with her today.”
She nodded. “Me, too.”
Before I left, I promised to pick out a few books for her, and when I walked back outside, I saw that Jake was packing up his truck. Suddenly I realized Katy’s soon hadn’t been referring to weeks from now.
It meant today.
Uh-oh.
“Hey,” I said as he tucked a computer monitor into his truck’s cab.
“Hi, Juliet,” he said back, his voice flat, distracted.
“Going somewhere?”
“Home.” He winced as he said the word, as if it were barbed and had drawn blood.
Honestly, he looked as bad as Tallulah had lately. Pale. Dark circles. Like every bone in his body hurt. Every muscle. Especially his heart.
It made no sense to me why he’d leave. It was clear he cared for her.
“Today?” I asked, even though it was fairly obvious.
He nodded. “It’s just … I just—” He broke off, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I know a few other people who will be, too.”
He met my gaze. “You, of all people, should understand why I can’t stay. My whole life is in Florida. Just like yours is in Michigan.”
A robin sang nearby, and I searched for it but couldn’t find it.
I crossed my arms. “Is it, though? Isn’t life where you choose to live it?”
I stopped myself from telling him that I’d decided to move here. I still wanted my family to be the first to know.
“It’s not that simple,” he said.
I wanted to tell him to stay. Beg him, really. For Tallulah’s sake. But he sounded like his mind was already made up. So instead, I said, “I’d just make sure that the life you’re going back to is worth leaving something so special behind. Safe travels, Jake.”
I gave him a sad smile as I walked away, back to Tenn’s, to pick up Mary Joy and head to the library, where I definitely would not be telling Tallulah that Jake was leaving today.
She’d know soon enough.
And her heart was going to break all over again.