Read Ten Days for Free Online Page B

apple to the horse.”
    “Okay. Okay.” She sighed and turned back a page.

    After another story, a glass of water, and two trips to the bathroom, Chris was finally asleep. Eddie began to whimper again. His weak, wrenlike sounds rattled in the back of his throat. He must have caught her cold. Why else would he be like this? She held him against her shoulder and lowered herself into the rocking chair. Back and forth, over and over, they rode the rocker. Still Eddie whimpered. Worry crept over her. Was he sicker than just a cold?
    Most days she saw utter purity and unending beauty in Eddie’s face. It was angelic in its innocence: tiny, puckery, perfect lips and lively, glistening eyes. But now, his face was twisted and grotesque. She rocked and hummed and wished her lovely, good-natured baby would return. Or at least wished the crying would stop so she could take her bath and go to bed. She needed to sleep, wanted this day to end. As bad as today had been, or maybe because it was so bad, she was sure tomorrow would be better—her headache would be gone, Eddie wouldn’t be so fussy anymore, and she could enjoy Chris again.
    The worry had grown to deep concern. What if Eddie was really sick? Should she take him to the ER?
    At times like this she wished her husband had a different job. Usually she could handle the long evenings with only children for company. She enjoyed the quiet time after they went to sleep, when she could read and tidy up the house and listen to Mendelssohn or Brahms and gather her wits. This night, though, she felt terrible and needed relief. Jake would help her if he were home. But he was at work. If he were an insurance salesman or an accountant or a biology teacher, he would be here and she would be in bed. Instead, he was taking care of other people’s sick wives and children.
    It was four hours since the last dose. She carried Eddie into the kitchen and, balancing him against her hip, swallowed two Tylenol caplets and a glassful of water. Then she squirted a half dropper of Tylenol drops into the corner of Eddie’s mouth. He sputtered for a moment and smacked his lips. She held her breath, hoped the medicine would stay in. Then he swallowed with a gulp. He seemed looser than usual. Almost limp.
    She glanced at the oven clock—7:45. She’d call Jake. He’d know what to do with a sick baby. She dialed the hospital paging service.
    As she waited for Jake to answer, she leaned against the sink and stared out the window into their backyard. Her heart was racing. What could be wrong with Eddie? Chris had never acted like this. Even when he’d had roseola. Maybe that was it. Maybe Eddie would break out in a rash tomorrow and the fever would go away. Or, maybe not.
    The remaining daylight, faint orange along the horizon, glowed behind the slats of the patio railing. The swing set was barely visible, its ropes and wooden scaffold a shadowy skeleton intertwined with the bony branches of the sweet gum tree. She tipped her head to view the swing set and gum tree from a different angle. She bent forward and muffled a cough in the terry cloth that covered Eddie’s warm, damp belly.
    After what seemed an eternity, a female voice spoke quickly, mechanically. “Answering for Dr. Campbell. He’s scrubbed.”
    She felt the twitch in the left corner of her mouth. It was her irritation twitch. She knew Jake couldn’t do anything to help her while he was at work, but she didn’t want to be alone with a sick baby. If she had to be miserable—had to make decisions about an ill child—he was going to help. They were his kids, too.
    “Please have him call home when the case is over,” she told the nurse.
    She returned to the rocking chair. Eddie was quiet for the moment. She needed to think about something else. What did Jake have for dinner? Anything? Sometimes when he was on call he forgot to eat. He’d lost weight over the past year—gone from size thirty-six to thirty-four pants. Definitely he didn’t