She waves toward the big door to the exam area. “They’ve gone back. Maeve will be fine, is just a fever. Babies get high fevers, I say ‘Give her Tylenol, it’ll go down,’ but Mr. Pierce say we have to go to the hospital.” She shrugs. “So here we are. I’ll try and get some sleep here. He said to send you on back.”
At the security window, I tell the guard who I’m here to see. He looks at me with an eyebrow raised. “You’re the aunt?”
I start to say no, but realize that’s probably what Corbin said to get me back there. “Aunt Vanessa, that’s me!” I say, nodding.
The door unlocks and I head for 15A. The curtain is ajar and I see Corbin bent over the little bed, stroking Maeve’s head. My stomach clenches to see her, so small, an IV in her arm.
I slip through the curtain as Corbin looks up at me, his eyebrows knitted in worry. “Thanks for coming, Vanessa. I know you probably only just got off work, but you were the only person I could think of to call.” He paused. "I just had to call someone."
“It’s okay. How is she? What’s wrong?” Maeve just appears to be sleeping, the hair at her temples damp with sweat.
“The nurse said it’s probably Fifth Disease. I looked it up when she left the room and it doesn’t look serious, but her fever was so high, she was just so limp…” his voice trails off. I feel guilty for thinking he didn’t care. He’s obviously distraught.
I lean over and put my lips to Maeve’s forehead, the way my Gran used to do to me when I was sick. Her skin warm and sweaty. “What’s the IV?”
“They wanted to be sure she’s not dehydrated. I wasn’t able to tell them how often she’d had a diaper change today…I just knew about the one after you saved her from choking.” His blue eyes are looking at me with that intensity again, like he’s trying to bore into my skull. It’s more than I can quite handle on 90 minutes of sleep.
I meet his gaze briefly, but the curtain parts and a doctor walks in.
“This is,” he looks at the chart, “Maeve? Just the fever, no other symptoms?”
Corbin gestures to me, “Vanessa was with her all day.”
“No,” I say, “No symptoms. She choked on a button, but that wouldn’t cause a fever, would it?”
The doctor doesn’t look up from Maeve, “No. And you say it was 104 when you left the house?”
“Yes,” says Corbin.
“Hmm…It’s responding to the acetaminophen, which is a good sign.” He looks up at Corbin. “Generally, a low fever you can just let alone. It helps the body fight off whatever infection or virus is invading. But 104 is pretty high. You can give them infant Tylenol. If it comes down, keep an eye on it for 24 hours, if the baby doesn’t improve, call your pediatrician. You really only have to worry if it doesn’t come down with medication. Is this really the first high fever she’s ever had?”
“Um, I wasn’t with her in her first months, but I think so.” He looks really uncomfortable, but I hope the doctor pushes to find out why. Maeve’s mother died in childbirth, who on earth took care of her if not Corbin?
But the doctor just scribbles on the clipboard. “Okay, you can take Maeve home. If she wakes again, uncomfortable, you can give her another dose. But I suspect the worst has passed. I can’t really diagnose from just a fever, but I suspect Fifth Disease. Has she been around school age children?”
Corbin and I both shake our heads.
“It’s most common in ages 5-10 or so, but not unheard of in younger or older patients.”
“What is it?” I ask. “Is it serious?”
“Nope. If that’s what this is, she may have no other symptoms, might seem to have a mild cold. Then, in a few days or so, she’ll have a rash. They call it a ‘slapped cheek’ rash because it’s often bright on the face, but it can be all over the body. It doesn’t usually itch. And it’ll be there anywhere from a few hours to a few days and it might even come back, faintly, for a week or more. In adults, it can cause sore joints and more flu-like symptoms, but in kids, it is no big deal. Most people never even know they have it. They just get a weird rash, it goes away, and that’s that. Once you get it, you don’t get it again. So Maeve just got it out of the way early.”
A nurse comes in and takes the IV out of Maeve’s arm, waking her. She cries weakly, but smiles when she sees me there, reaching up her arms.
“Go ahead…Auntie,” says the nurse with a look that suggests she knows I’m not Aunt Vanessa.
Maeve feels heavier and warmer than usual in my arms and she snuggles her head against my neck. Corbin rubs her back.
“I’m glad you came,” he says. His expression is complicated, like he’s sorting something in his head. Finally, he says, “Vanessa, will you come stay with her tonight? I’m worried about her being alone and I don’t want to ask Marta.”
I’m so tired. But I know I’m not going to be able to sleep if I’m worrying about this little girl. So, I say, “Yes.”
Marta drives the Range Rover so I can sit in the back with Maeve in Corbin’s car, another Rover, but even fancier than the one I drive. We’re quiet on the way home, Maeve sleeping and Corbin and I are exhausted. When we get back to the house, he lets Marta go on to bed and follows me up to Maeve’s room.
“Um, should I just sleep on the floor?” I’m not sure what he expects of me. Maeve is still sound asleep in my arms.
“Oh, um, no. Here, let me get her crib mattress. We can put it on the floor next to the bed in the room next door.”
The room is another perfectly decorated suite, this one in soothing blues. I’m way too tired to really look around, though.
Corbin wrestles the crib mattress in and sets it on the floor near the big bed. I lay Maeve down and she doesn’t even stir.
“She’s really out,” I say,“but I think her fever is much lower. Maybe gone.”
Corbin hands me a little bottle of pink liquid. “Here’s the Tylenol, just in case. Vanessa, thank you again for coming to the hospital, thank you for coming here tonight. I know I should be able to handle one baby’s fever–I ran a textile mill, I run a winery!–but it just…felt like too much. So thanks.”
“No problem,” I say. “I’m going to try to get a couple more hours sleep.” I walk to the row of blinds and let them fall down over the dawn-kissed view outside. After Corbin quietly closes the door behind him, I turn out the lamp and collapse onto the bed without even turning down the covers. I’m just too damned tired. Please, little Maeve, stay asleep.
I wake when even the blinds can’t keep out the bright sunlight. When I remember where I am and why, I startle and look over the edge of the bed. Maeve is still sleeping peacefully and beside her, on the floor, is Corbin, his arm draped up on the crib
mattress.
Gently, I get up and squat down to put my hand against the baby’s forehead. Cool. My touch wakes her, however, and her eyes flutter open. “Ka!” she says happily, waking her Daddy.
Corbin looks a bit confused as he wakes, but he, too, smiles when he sees me.
“Been awhile since I woke up on the floor and didn’t know where I was,” he says. His cheeks are scruffy with dark beard growth and he looks impossibly handsome.
“Da!” says Maeve, sitting up.
“Good morning, sweetie,” he says to her. "I’m glad to see you feeling better.
“Didn’t trust me?” I ask, teasing.
"Well, I did, but you didn’t stir when I came in, so maybe I shouldn’t have," he smiles so that I know he’s not serious. “I couldn’t sleep. I just had to check on her. She was fine, obviously, but I decided to just stay up here. Can’t recommend the floor. I feel like I’m 80.” He gets up gingerly, stretching his sore body.
Maeve reaches for me, making a little “eh eh eh” noise. “Bet you could use a dry diaper after all those hospital fluids.” I pick her up and yeah, that diaper is soaked. I don’t want to go into the nursery, though, afraid Corbin will just vanish again.
Maybe if I just talk to him as I go, he’ll have to follow me… "So should I call her doctor today, does she have a doctor?" I ask as I leave, and yes, he follows me.
“No, it never occurred to me. How do I pick one?”
I look over my shoulder at him, “I don’t know, either. I’ll ask my Grandma.”
As I put Maeve on the changing table, I look at Corbin, he’s lost in thought.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“How do people know what to do?” he asks. “Is everyone this hopeless at babies and they just fake it?”
I laugh a little. “I am. And you bought it.”
“Vanessa?”
I look up again, his tone sounds serious.
“I want you to move in. Full time nanny.”
“What? I just admitted to you that I have no idea what I’m doing and you think ‘That’s it! Full time, then!’?”
“It just feels right when you’re here. Maeve trusts you, so I trust you. Will you?”