Danielle opens the door looking exhausted, wearing pajama pants and an oversized sweater. Her hair is pulled back messily, and there are dark circles under her eyes signifying she’s been up most of the night. “Radmir.” She seems surprised but not displeased to see me. “What are you doing here?”
“Mrs. Yranda said you called in sick. I wanted to make sure you were all right.” I study her face, noting the pallor and the careful way she’s holding herself. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m just tired. Leo had a rough night.” She steps aside to let me in, and I can hear cartoons playing softly in the living room. “He woke up with a fever around two, and it’s been hard to get it down.”
I follow her into the living room and find Leo curled up on the couch under several blankets, his usual energy replaced by listless stillness from illness. His cheeks are flushed, and he’s clutching his stuffed dinosaur while watching animated characters with glassy eyes.
“Hey, buddy.” I sit on the edge of the couch and touch his forehead gently, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. “Not feeling so well today?”
“My head hurts, and I’m really hot.” His voice is smaller than usual, with the pitiful quality of genuine misery. “Mama gave me medicine, but it didn’t help very much.”
“It takes a while for medicine to work.” I smooth his hair back from his fevered face. “Have you been drinking water?”
He nods weakly. “Mama keeps bringing me drinks, but I don’t want them.”
I look at Danielle, who’s hovering nearby with anxious energy. “When did the fever start?”
“Around two this morning. It spiked to one-oh-two, and I’ve been alternating between children’s acetaminophen and ibuprofen, but it’s not coming down as much as I’d like.” She wraps her arms around herself. “I was about to call his pediatrician when you arrived.”
“Let’s get him more comfortable first.” I stand and move toward the kitchen. “Do you have washcloths and a bowl for cool compresses?”
For the next hour, I help Danielle care for Leo with a focus that surprises me. I make cool compresses for his forehead while she coaxes him to drink small sips of water. When he starts shivering despite his fever, I hold him against my chest while she adjusts his blankets.
The domesticity of caring for a sick child feels both unfamiliar and natural. I’ve never been responsible for someone this vulnerable, but every instinct I possess is focused on making Leo comfortable and helping his fever break.
“You don’t have to stay.” Danielle settles beside us on the couch, her hand resting on Leo’s leg. “I know you have important work to handle.”
“There’s nothing more important than this.” I adjust my hold on Leo, who’s dozed off against my shoulder. “Besides, you look like you could use some help.”
She does look exhausted, and I wonder if her tiredness is just from staying up with Leo or if there are other factors affecting her energy. The pregnancy I suspect she’s hiding would explain both her fatigue and her careful movements.
“Thank you.” Her voice is soft with gratitude. “I wasn’t sure how to manage everything on my own.”
“You’re not on your own anymore.” I meet her gaze over Leo’s sleeping head. “Not with him, and not with anything else with which you might be dealing.”
She looks like she wants to say something in response, but Leo stirs against my chest, mumbling something about space dinosaurs in his fevered sleep. The moment passes.
We spend the rest of the afternoon taking turns holding Leo and monitoring his temperature. Around five o’clock, the fever finally breaks, and he wakes up asking for crackers and juice with something closer to his normal energy.
“I think the worst is over.” Danielle checks his temperature again and smiles with relief. “Only ninety-nine, and he’s asking for food. That’s always a good sign.”
“Can we watch the dinosaur walking documentary tonight?” Leo looks up at me with hopeful eyes. “I feel better.”
“If your mama says it’s okay, and if you eat some dinner first.” I stand and stretch muscles that are stiff from holding him for hours. “What do you think, Mama? Is he well enough for educational television?”
“I think that sounds perfect.” Danielle’s smile includes both Leo and me, and my chest squeezes at being included in these small family decisions. I stay for dinner, helping Leo eat soup and crackers while Danielle makes tea for herself. The documentary about dinosaurs captivates Leo completely, and he provides running commentary about the content, indicating he’s watched the series before.
When bedtime arrives, I read him a story about brave dinosaur explorers after the comet, and he falls asleep holding my hand with the trusting grip of a child who feels completely safe.
“Thank you for today.” Danielle walks me to the door, looking more rested than she has in hours. “I don’t know how I would have managed today without help.”
“You would have managed because you’re an incredible mother.” I touch her face gently, noting how soft her skin feels under my fingers. “You don’t have to manage everything alone anymore though.”
She leans into my touch for just a moment. “I know, and I’m ready to stop trying.”
“Good.” I lean down and kiss her forehead, breathing in the scent of her hair. “Get some rest. Call me if his fever comes back, or if you need anything at all.”
“I will.”
