Unexpected Gift(40)

When she is out of sight, I let out a breath and lean against the door to gather my thoughts. She came to me. Did she only come to me because I am a doctor or because she trusts me? I want it to be the latter. I use my leg to push myself from the door and go to my room, letting the towel fall on the floor. After putting on a T-shirt and loose gym shorts, I grab my medical kit and run down the steps.

Posie lets out a loud wail and Molly stands there in tears, unsure of what to do. She seems frustrated that she doesn’t know how to make things better for Posie. It shouldn’t and I’m not proud of it, but it turns me fucking on the way she cares for our niece. I hate the tears, but the motherly instincts are hitting Molly full force, and my body responds to her need to be a mother.

“It’s getting worse, Caden. She is burning up.”

“Let me see her.” I hold out my arms, and she tightens her embrace. She doesn’t seem to want to let go. “Molly, it will be okay. I can’t help if you don’t give her to me.”

She kisses Posie’s forehead and hands her over. I smile at my grumpy little girl with red cheeks and big, fat alligator tears streaming down her face. “Hey, you. Does someone not feel good? Let’s make you better, huh? What do you say?” I tickle her stomach to see if she laughs, but she cries louder. “Okay. Okay. We got you.” I lay her down on the couch and open my kit to get the thermometer out.

“What are you doing?” Molly asks and kneels beside the couch, running her hand over Posie’s head to comfort her.

“Just checking her temp. She feels warm, but I’d like an exact number.” I glide the device over her forehead, and it beeps, reading one hundred degrees right on the dot. “One hundred isn’t horrible, but something is going on.” I check her skin for any rashes, even take off her diaper to see if she has a diaper rash that possibly got infected, but nothing.

I get out my stethoscope and check her heart rate. Her lungs are clear and loud. I smile with relief.

“What? Why are smiling? This isn’t a good thing, Caden.”

I tape her diaper back in place and sling the scope over my neck. “I’m smiling because this one seems to have gotten a little stomach bug. I’d bet anything. Tomorrow if her fever is high, we will take her to the hospital.”

“Well, she hasn’t slept well. What do we do? We don’t have any kind of medicine. I think she is too young for it.”

“I have something in the cabinet that my parents used to give me during times like this.” My knees crack as I stand, making me feel much older than thirty-four. “You might not agree with it.”

“I’ll try anything.”

I open the cabinet and grabbed the bottle of whiskey, slamming the cabinet door with my foot.

“Wait a minute, whiskey? You want to get her drunk. No, way!”

I roll my eyes and pour two fingers worth of whiskey in two glasses. “Of course, I don’t want to get her drunk. Jesus. I’m not pouring the bottle down her throat. I’m dipping my finger in here,” I say as I lift the glass to show her. “And I’m going to rub it against her gums. It helps with teething and she will get a little sleep. It won’t hurt her. I’m a doctor remember?”

“I don’t know.” She rubs her fingers over her eyes in exhaustion.

“Brandon would agree with me.” I hand her the scotch glass and wait for her to take it. Her fingers run through her hair and stares at me like I have some evil plan up my sleeve. “He would. I’m not just saying that.”

She wipes a stray tear and finally reach for the glass, wrapping her soft, delicate fingers around the crystal. My fingers linger for a few seconds too long, letting them tangle around each other as I slowly pull them away.

“Okay,” she responds, and she knocks the two fingers worth of whiskey back in one swallow.

“Damn, alright then. Let’s save some for Posie.” I shoot her a wink, but she doesn’t seem to be in a playful kind of mood. “I didn’t mean anything by that. It was a joke.” I dip my pinky in liquid and shove it between Posie’s lips. She suckles on it like a bottle, and I crook my finger over her gums. “That should do it.” I pick her up and set her in her playpen that is in front of the French doors. She has the best view in the house of the lake. “In a few minutes she should start settling down and be asleep.”

“Thank you.” Her voice low and raspy, laced with sleep and worry.

I swish the whiskey in the glass and sit down next to Molly on the couch. “It’s okay, you know. It’s okay to be freaked out. This isn’t meant to be easy. None of this is easy.”

“I know. I know. I’m just tired.”

We sit there, next to each other, in silence. It isn’t awkward or uncomfortable. At least, I don’t think it is, but I’ve been a man of many wrongs before. A movement out of the corner of my eye has me turning to her. She starts to rub the left side of her neck, stretching and groaning like she is in pain.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just have a crick in my neck.”

I set my drink on the coffee table and situate my body toward her. “Come here. I’ll rub your shoulders. I’ve been told I give a mean shoulder massage.”

She stares at me a little apprehensively, with a hint of want in her sparkling brown eyes. “I don’t know...”