The Last Letter(54)

Before I could fall asleep, I heard footsteps again, but this time they were coming from upstairs. Colt’s face appeared right above me, and panic in his eyes told me he didn’t care that I was wrapped around his mother.

“What’s up, bud?”

“Something’s wrong with Maisie. She’s on fire.”





Chapter Thirteen


Ella


Letter #13

Ella,

I’m so sorry that you missed Colt’s play, and no, it’s not trivial. I get it, and I don’t know what I could possibly say—or write—that would give you the peace of mind you deserve. You’re being ripped in two different directions, and that has to feel impossible.

But I can say that you’re doing a great job. Yes, you missed the play, but Maisie needed you. There will be times as Colt grows up that he’ll need you, and you’ll miss something for Maisie. I think that’s just part of having two kids. You do the best you can by both and hope it all equals out in the end. The guilt means you’re a great mom, but you also have to let yourself off the hook sometimes. This is one of those times.

What you’re going through is a nightmare. You have to give yourself a little space to stumble, because you’re right—you’re not one of those two-parent households. So that means you have to take extra care of yourself because you’re the only one they’ve got.

Do me a favor and just hold on. Your brother is headed home as soon as he can. You won’t be alone for long, I promise. He mentioned that Colt wanted a tree house, and while I’m visiting, I’ll help him with it. Maybe it’s not much, but it will give him a spot just his own, and give you the peace of mind that he’s got something special.

I wish I had better advice, but I know you don’t need it, just an ear, and you’ve got mine whenever you want it.

~ Chaos

…

“105.3.” I read the numbers on the thermometer again, just in case I got it wrong the first time. Maisie was burning up. “I have to get her to the hospital.”

“We have to get her to the hospital,” Beckett corrected me from the doorway to the bathroom. “Get the Tylenol, wet rags, whatever you need, and let’s go. Colt, do me a favor and wake Hailey?”

I heard the familiar scamper of Colt’s feet down the stairs as I ripped apart the medicine cabinet looking for Tylenol. What could have caused this? The soccer game. It had to have been. But no one was near her, and her levels were great at her last appointment. What could she have caught in that short time?

I found the bubblegum pink bottle of fever reducer and poured the exact amount she needed into the tiny measuring cup.

“Ella,” Beckett called my name from the hallway, and I stumbled out of the bathroom, medicine ready.

He had Maisie in his arms, against his chest, wrapped in her blanket. I placed my hand on her forehead and choked back every swear word that came to mind. This wasn’t good. We’d been so lucky with her complications—the nausea, vomiting, hair loss, weight loss, it was all pretty standard, small stuff. But this was unknown.

“Maisie, love, I need you to open your eyes and take some medicine, okay?” I coaxed, running my free hand along her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open, glassy from fever. “I’m hot.”

“I know. Can you take this?” I showed her the cup.

She nodded, the movement small and weak. Beckett shifted his hold, helping her upright, and I put the small cup to her heart-shaped mouth. Such perfect little lips. She’d never had so much as a cavity or a broken bone before her diagnosis, and now she didn’t bat an eye at medication.

She swallowed and jolted, her stomach muscles heaving.

“Baby, you have to keep it down, okay? Please?” I begged like it was her choice. Her jaw dropped, and she started to heave again.

“Outside,” Beckett ordered, and went, leaving me to follow after him.

He carried her down the stairs and outside onto the porch, barely pausing when he had to open the door. The man didn’t even give me a chance to get there first.

I stopped at the office, grabbing Maisie’s binder from my desk and running out after them.

“That’s better, right? Feel that air? Nice and cool. Take little breaths, Maisie. In through your nose, out through your mouth. That’s right. Just like that.” His voice was so soothing and calm, directly contrasting the rigid set of his jaw.

Maisie arched her neck, like she was seeking out the cool night air, and her breathing slowed as her belly calmed. She had to keep down the medicine, had to give us time to get to the ER.

“Better?” I asked, taking her little hand.

“A little.”

“Good.” I’d take a little. A little was better than throwing up the meds.

“Oh my God, Ella, what can I do?” Hailey ran out onto the porch as she tied her bathrobe, Colt just behind her in his bare feet.

“Can you keep Colt? Please? We have to get her to the ER.”

“Absolutely. Where are you going to take her? The medical center is closed.”

“Where’s the nearest ER?” Beckett asked.

“Montrose is the only one open at this time of night”—I checked my phone—“or morning, rather. It’s three a.m.”

“That’s an hour and a half,” Hailey said quietly, like her tone mattered, or could change the distance.