Read When You Go Away for Free Online Page B

bags."
         Ryan swore lightly under his breath and then turned to Carly, his face red.  "I told you this would happen."
         Carly frowned at Ryan, handing Rosie a towel as she lifted Brooke up.  "There, sweetie.  You feel better?  You're not so hot now."  Carly helped her pat Brooke dry, while Ryan stood in the doorway.
         "What is it?  What does she have?"  Ryan asked.
         "You still here?  I thought you'd left already."  Rosie lifted Brooke to her chest and carefully stepped through the door and down the hall to the bedroom.  "You have that Tylenol?"
         Carly handed her the Tylenol and the syringe after Rosie laid Brooke down.  "That's all we have left."
         "That should do for now.  I need that ice pack, Ryan."
         "What does she have?"
         "Listen, I’m no MD, as I am reminded every day at work.  But I can tell you she has an upper respiratory infection.  Maybe pneumonia.  She needs to get to the hospital.  I've got this fever down, but it's only temporary, you understand?"
         Ryan blinked, his mouth open.  "Oh."
         "So, the ice pack?"
         Ryan went to the kitchen for ice.  Rosie put a clean diaper on Brooke and then covered her with a sheet.  "I need my phone, Carly."
         "My mom. She'll . . ."
         "Yeah.  I know.  But if she could see what we're looking at, she'd do what I'm doing.  I don't doubt it for the world.  I’ve seen your mom.  She’s tender for you all.”
         Carly nodded, knowing that was true, even when her mother was still and silent under the covers.
         “So, sweetie,” Rosie said.   “Could you get my purse?  I have my cell phone in it."
         She turned and went to the living room, grabbing Rosie's heavy black leather purse.  As she carried it back to the bedroom, she heard things jangling and clicking together inside it, and she wanted to stick her hand inside and pull something out, remembering the grab bag presents from her second grade classroom.  Her mother usually carried a sleek tan purse, so small all she could fit inside it were her wallet, keys, and sunglasses.  But Rosie seemed to have a world inside hers.
         "Okay.  Let's get the phone."  Rosie dug around, lifting out a candle, timer, her wallet, and a spoon.  "It's here somewhere.  Oh!  Okay."
         "Tell them it's not her fault,” Carly said.  “She didn't mean to!  She didn't know what she was doing.  Tell them--tell them how sick Brooke always is."  Tears pushed out her eyes and ran down her face. 
         Rosie moved her stuff away from her and pulled Carly down on the bed, putting an arm around her.  "I'm going to tell the truth.  That's what you did when you came to get me, and that's what I'll do when I talk to the paramedics."
         Leaning into Rosie's shoulder, Carly nodded, wanting this part to be over even if the next part was worse.  At least then, Brooke would be okay.  Brooke wouldn't die.
     
         "Ryan, take your sister back to the apartment.  I'll stay at the hospital until Brooke’s all right, okay?  I’ll call as soon as I can."  Rosie patted his cheek, and Carly noticed he didn’t flinch.
         Rosie dropped her hand, and Ryan pulled Carly to him, holding her wrist.  "All right."
         Before the paramedic closed the door, Carly saw Brooke wrapped in a sheet on the gurney, one small hand reaching up.  Rosie took it, held it to her cheek, and talked to her.  If anyone should be in that ambulance, Carly thought, it should be her mom, not a stranger, even if Rosie was nice.  Carly felt something new inside her flare hot and constant like the pilot light in the apartment's one heater.  The ambulance drove off, neither Carly nor Ryan moving until the noise of the big engine disappeared in the night air.  The small crowd of people that had gathered stared at them, eyebrows raised, hands at their mouths, and then walked away without