Just the Plague
MONDAY MORNING, I AM UP early and leave before anyone else is conscious. Jack went to bed early but he still won’t get up before 11 if he doesn’t have to. I left Frank sawing wood on my couch and I’m sure Betsy is still passed out. She must be drained after our argument and talk.
I think about everything on my drive to work and I feel hopeful. Friendship is the very least of what I want from Betsy and I’m not sure how to convince her to give me a chance but I’m going to try. She’s attracted to me, and that’s not just my usual general thought about everyone thinking I’m hot. Which, I am. Betsy is attracted to more than just my looks, I know that. She knows me as a man and thinks I’m awesome. I may not be at the top of her list now but my hope is that she’ll come around eventually. I just have to convince her I’m worth it.
I stay late working on the flooring in the back room and don’t get home until about eight. When I walk in the door of the house, I smell something cooking and yet something seems off. I walk into the kitchen and find Betsy tending to a pot of something.
“Hey, Bets, what’s cookin’, good lookin’?” I ask with a wink.
“I’m making some soup for Jack. He’s not feeling very well,” she says and I tense up.
“Not feeling well? Like hungover or really sick?”
She gives me a worrying look. “He’s really sick, Joe. When I got home, he was in bed and I don’t think he’s left it all day except to piss.”
“Shit,” I say and go directly up to Jack’s room. It smells like him, like Canoe cologne. My dad wore it religiously and even though it’s kinda gross and I don’t even think they make it anymore, Jack wears it. I can’t give him a hard time for wanting to have some connection to our dad. It also smells like teenage boy who’s been in his bed sick all day. He’s asleep so I don’t wake him as I sit on the edge of his bed and put my hand on his forehead. He’s burning up.
“You left before I finished,” Betsy whispers behind me. “I woke him and took his temperature, he has a fever. He took some ibuprofen and drank some water. Then he passed out again.”
I nod. “Thanks, B, I appreciate it.” She puts her hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze.
“I’m hoping when he wakes up, I can force feed him some soup. I’ll be downstairs if you need me for anything.” She heads out and I hear her banging around in the kitchen a few minutes later.
Jack didn’t get sick often but he was one of those kids who got the fucking plague when he did get sick. I’ll admit when he was sick, I was a mess. The first time he had a fever for a few days and there was nothing else wrong. Then came the rash and I freaked out. By the time he had a weird bacterial infection when he was 11, I was at least an expert at hiding my ineptness. I still have flashbacks about the norovirus of 2011, I had that one too, and let’s just say it was responsible for one of my pants shitting episodes.
To see him like this now is scary. He’s a grown-up, and not supposed to get sick anymore. I realize that makes no sense, but you know what I mean. I stroke his hair and he shivers a little. I pull up his covers and head down to the kitchen.
“I’m going to call our doctor,” I tell Betsy and step out onto the deck. The doctor seems to think it may be the flu but wants me to bring him in tomorrow in the morning so she can rule out strep or any other infection.
When I’m back in the kitchen, Betsy is putting a ladle of soup into a bowl and onto a tray. She found our “sick tray,” we’ve had since I was a kid. There’s a small glass of juice, another bottle of water and some toast. I feel so much gratitude I’m overwhelmed and all I can do is hug her from behind and lean my head on her shoulder. Her hands cover mine and she leans her head to mine. “He’ll be okay, Joe, it’s just the flu.”
“I know, I guess I’m just still stuck in the mindset that he’s my baby brother and I get panicky when he’s sick.” I don’t move and she pulls my arms tighter around her. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
She lets out a long breath and releases my hands. I step back and she grabs the tray and takes it up to my brother. I use this moment to get my shit together. I’m not sure why the sight of her taking care of Jack and helping me in a way I’ve never been helped has struck me, but it has. Sure, Sebastian’s and Frank’s moms helped me out a lot in the beginning but I probably didn’t lean on them as much as I should have because I wanted to show I could handle it.
When Jack was eight, he fell off the play structure in our backyard and fractured his arm. The first person I called was Theresa, Frank’s mom. She didn’t answer so I had to figure it out on my own. After taking about five minutes to lose my shit, I called 911 and my brother was whisked to the hospital along with me in the back of an ambulance. Fortunately, I thought to grab our insurance info and Jack’s records before the ambulance came. His arm was set and cast and we were released all within a few hours. By the time we were out of the cab and into our house, Theresa was calling me back, apologetic for missing my call. She was at the movies. The whole incident was good for me because it made me realize that I could handle it. It was my first real test as a parent. Later came the running away and even though it was a low time and a challenge, I felt prepared to deal with it.
So, even though I know he’s bound to be fine, I still worry like a parent would worry. I follow Betsy up after a few minutes and when I get to his room, Jack is sitting up and forcing soup down his throat. He looks horrible and is barely awake.
“You need food and fluids to keep your strength up, and to help absorb the meds,” I hear Betsy say as I walk in and sit on the bean bag chair next to the bed.
He nods weakly and takes the spoon from Betsy. He looks to me and I can see now he is very pale and his eyes are bloodshot red. “You look like death warmed over, bro. Can you survive ’till morning when I can take you to see Dr. Mononoke?” He nods and then sinks into his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.
His eyes close and I collect the tray, leaving the water bottle and head downstairs. When we get to the kitchen, Betsy starts putting things away and tidying up. “Thanks, B, you can’t know how much it means to have someone else here to help.”
“Almost like a normal family, I’d imagine,” she says and I can tell she regrets it instantly. “Ugh, I’m sorry. You are normal, I’m a douche nozzle.”
I smile. “You most certainly are not a douche nozzle, and I knew what you meant. You’re right. You don’t realize how hard it is to be a single parent until you have help. It’s such a fucking relief you can barely restart breathing. When Jack was little, Theresa, Frank’s mom, or Sabine, Sebastian’s mom, would come help me now and then. I would be calm, and Jack would be agreeable and life felt manageable. It was rare, so we had to fend for ourselves most of the time, but man, when they swooped in, it felt like they took the weight of the world off of me.”
“Joe, I know I’ve said it a bunch of times, and I hope you believe me when I say it again. You are a great parent. Jack is a brilliant young man and you are a huge reason he’s as awesome as he is. I’m glad you had help, but I can recognize that you did the bulk of the parenting on your own. If I can help by making soup, giving hugs, or administering ibuprofen, then I’m here.” She rubs my upper arm and I lean into it. “Also, can we talk about the fact that your doctor is named after a Japanese anime princess?”
“Well, she is actually Dr. Miyazaki but she looks like a princess so Jack would call her Dr. Mononoke. When he was he was little he was obsessed with anime so it stuck. She thinks it’s adorable since we are her favorite patients.” Suddenly I’m bone weary and want to go to bed myself. “I’ll get my sleeping bag and camp out on his floor in case his fever spikes.”
She shakes her head. “No way, you worked a long physical day, and I merely sat at a computer. You go lay down and I’ll get some work done in his room, I’m not tired.”
“Bets, you sure?” I can barely argue at this point.
“Yes, I’ll wake you if there’s a change. I already told my job I’ll be working from home tomorrow so I can stay with him after the doctor, or go with if you need me to.”
I step into her warmth and hold her close to me. She transfers a tiny bit of energy to me so I can make the walk to my room without passing out on the floor. When I turn back to her, she blows me a kiss. I make a lazy movement to catch it and she laughs. It takes every molecule of my body to turn and throw myself into bed, instead of the alternative. Running to her in the hallway and taking a real kiss.