Page 97 of Never Fall Again
“My mother will tell you that white spots and sore throats don’t necessarily mean strep. But you’re going to get tested for it.”
“I can’t leave the house.” Landry waved a slender hand around the bathroom. “I’m afraid to move.”
“Well, that’s where you’re in luck.” He turned off the flashlight function on his phone and called his mom.
She answered on the third ring. “Cal? What’s wrong?”
“Sorry to wake you, Mom.”
“You didn’t. I was already up.” Dr. Carol Shaw had been an early riser Cal’s entire life, but he seriously doubted that she was up at 4:30 a.m.
“Sure you were.”
“I couldn’t sleep. Got up around four, made coffee, and settled in to read my Bible and start my day. Looks like God knew I needed to get up, given that my baby boy is calling me now, expecting to wake me up.”
“It’s Landry. She’s sick.”
There was a brief pause. “You’re with Landry?”
“Yes. Eliza came and got me. Landry’s burning up with a fever and has a raging sore throat. I took a look, and her throat is red, super swollen, and covered in white spots. She’s throwing up so much she can’t get out of the bathroom, and her body aches.”
“Let me get dressed and get my bag. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Can I give her anything for the pain?” Cal brushed Landry’s hair from her forehead. Her eyelids twitched at his touch but didn’t open. “She’s so miserable.”
“Ah, sweetheart. If you give her anything, she probably won’t keep it down. For now, try to keep her as comfortable as possible. I’ll be there soon.”
“Thanks, Mom. Love you.”
“Love you too, baby boy.”
Cal disconnected the phone.
“Did she call you ‘baby boy’?” Landry’s voice was a hoarse whisper, but there was amusement and disbelief in her words.
“Yes.” His mom had called him “baby boy” his entire life. Since he’d hit his teens, she kept it to private conversations. He hated it when he was younger. But sometime in his late twenties, he decided she could call him that if she wanted to. It didn’t hurt him. Didn’t make him less of a man to let his mother use a term of affection. And while she called him her baby, she didn’t treat him like one. So it was fine.
As long as she didn’t say it in public.
“That’s sweet.” Landry didn’t open her eyes when she spoke. “She loves you.”
“She does. I love her too. She’s awesome. And she’s on her way here.”
“Cal.” There was a whine in Landry’s voice now. “I don’t go to the doctor every time I get sick.”
“Maybe you didn’t before, but you do now.”
“Bossy.” If she was trying to make him mad, it wouldn’t work. If she was trying to tease him, that wouldn’t work either. He didn’t care one way or the other right now. She was so sick, she couldn’t get off the bathroom floor. He couldn’t fix her, but he wouldn’t sit by and watch her suffer without making sure she was getting the best possible care.
And in Gossamer Falls—or, in his opinion, anywhere—that meant she needed his mom.
He slid to the floor beside her, and she didn’t complain when he pulled her toward him so her head rested against his arm. They sat that way until his mom arrived. She texted that she was out front, and he told her to come on in. When she entered the bathroom, she shook her head in sympathy. “Poor girl. Let’s get you checked out.”
She banished Cal from the bathroom, so he tiptoed up the stairs to check on Eliza. She was passed out. He checked his watch. 5:30 a.m. School started at 8:00, but Eliza liked to be early because Carla dropped Abby off no later than 7:40 so she could get the older boys to the middle school in time for class.
Even a town as small as Gossamer Falls had car lines that made parents a little crazy.
It would take him fifteen minutes to get to the school. He set an alarm on his phone for 6:30. Surely he could get one little girl ready for school in forty-five minutes.