Loving Annie

by Anna Huckabee

  Annie’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  “It was Bobby’s house. He came down with it this afternoon, which means he was already contagious when he came over to get Danny. And Danny went over to their house.”

  Annie’s throat constricted in fear. “I’ll wash these all right now. You go clean up. Maybe we can still prevent it.”

  “Have you had scarlet fever?” Coren asked concern filling his eyes.

  Annie nodded. “When I was a child. I was pretty sick with it. Mama says it was touch and go for a couple days.”

  “Good. Then you’ve got some experience with it.” Coren pulled off his stockings and dropped them on the pile. “I’ll toss my underclothes out the bathroom door. Unless you want them now, that is.”

  Annie choked and dropped her eyes to the floor. Coren laughed and slapped his bare leg. “Oh, it was worth it just to see your face.”

  He hurried through the house. Annie heard his footfalls on the stairs. She gathered the laundry, placed it in the washing machine, and started the load.

  Coren came downstairs before she’d finished, dressed in his pajamas and wrapped in his dressing gown. “Do you want a cup of tea?” he asked. He filled the pot and set it on the stove to heat. “It’s the only thing I can cook that turns out every time.”

  “That would be nice,” said Annie.

  Coren took two mugs from the cupboard and placed them on the counter. “What do we do about Danny?”

  “I don’t know,” said Annie. “He might get the natural consequences of his actions if he gets sick.”

  “And give it to everyone else.” Coren rubbed his face with his hands. “I’m worried for them, Annie. It’s going to be especially hard on the younger two.”

  Annie crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Coren. “We’ll deal with it as it comes. Don’t borrow trouble.”

  Coren pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “So what do we do about Danny?”

  Annie sighed. “It keeps coming back around to that, doesn’t it? We have to quarantine them to the house now, right? That’s his punishment. He gets to stay at home until they get it or we know for sure they won’t.”

  Coren chuckled. “He’s going to hate it.”

  “I’m going to hate it. The weather is beautiful right now but we’re going to be stuck here. No trips to church or to the library.”

  “Then I think we have our answer about what to do about Danny. We wait and see what happens.” Coren released Annie to move the whistling tea kettle off the stove, while Annie hurried to finish putting the clean clothes through the wringer.

  ∞

  Day flowed into boring day while they waited to find out if Danny had brought scarlet fever to their house. Bobby and his brothers and sister were very sick children. Annie dreaded what would happen if Vivian and Darren caught it.

  While they waited, Annie decided it would be a good time to clear Sarah’s clothes out of the wardrobe. She asked Ava if she wanted to help.

  Ava hesitated. “Does Papa know we’re doing it?”

  “He’s the one who suggested it. He said he can’t do it himself, but he didn’t want them hanging there when someone else could use them. We’ll take them to the Salvation Army for people who’ve lost everything.”

  “It might be hard to see all the clothes Mama wore.” Ava shuffled her feet. “But I might remember things I’ve forgotten if I see them.”

  Annie wrapped her arms around the girl and pulled her into a hug. “If it’s too much for you, I’ll do it myself.”

  “No,” said Ava. “I want to help.”

  They pulled the garments from the wardrobe one by one. Sometimes Ava shared a story about when her mama had worn something. Annie brushed the dust and cobwebs off the clothes. They folded them carefully into boxes.

  Ava found a sweater that had belonged to her mother in the back of the closet. She hugged it close. “It still smells like her.” She held it out to Annie.

  Annie breathed in the scent of lilacs. “It’s lovely. Why don’t you keep it, Ava. It’ll be big on you for a while but you’ll grow into it. It won’t go out of style like the other things.”

  A tearful Ava threw her arms around Annie. “I’d like that.” She ran to her own room and hung it in her wardrobe.

  They sorted through the clothing in the dresser next. Ava saved a scarf their mother had worn for Vivian. Annie and Ava carried the boxes downstairs and stacked them by the front door.

  “It all looks so empty now,” said Ava. “Papa has the whole closet to himself. Unless…” she hesitated.

  “Unless what?” asked Annie

  “Unless you’re going to put your clothes there.”

  “And now there’s room for them,” said Annie.

  ∞

  Several days passed. Annie breathed a sigh of relief. In another day or two, they’d know if they were clear or not.

  The next morning, Danny didn’t come down to breakfast. Ava’s face was pinched with worry, but she didn’t say anything until Annie asked where he was.

  “He said he wasn’t hungry,” said Ava.

  Annie started everyone else eating, then hurried upstairs to check on Danny. She heard his dry, raspy cough before she even entered the room. Danny’s fever-glazed eyes met hers over the top of the blanket. Annie settled onto the edge of the bed. She didn’t need to touch him to feel the heat radiating off his body. Yet, he was bundled to his neck and shivering.

  “Oh, Danny,” she whispered. She brushed her fingers across his forehead.

  Danny turned his face away from her. “I got sick. Are you happy now? You were hoping I’d be punished for going to Bobby’s.”

  “No, Danny, I’m not happy. I was hoping you’d stay well. Then we could put this whole awful thing behind us and never think about it again. I’m going to fetch your papa to come check on you.”

  ∞

  There was little they could do for the children except keep them comfortable. One by one they fell ill. Annie moved Darren into her bedroom, hoping maybe he’d stay well. He woke her one night, burning with fever.

  Annie gave up and made a cot in the children’s room. She slept little at night. Their fevers were worse once the sun went down. Nothing seemed to help. She made broth and tried to get them to sip it. She washed their faces and necks with cool water so they could sleep. Darren and Vivian were the worst. The only way Darren could sleep was propped up on Annie’s chest. His fever raged. He barely moved and never spoke. His eyes begged Annie to help him but there was nothing she could do except cry out to God and beg Him to spare the tiny boy.

  Annie sat on Vivian’s bed at night, Darren resting against her chest and stomach and Vivian curled against her side. Every two or three hours, all day and all night, she got up and forced liquids down each of the children.

  After three days of sickness, Annie was so tired she couldn’t stand. Coren tried to get her to lie down and sleep. Annie refused. What if one of the children took a turn for the worse? What if one of them needed her? She tried to sleep if they were sleeping, but it was rare when all five children slept at the same time.

  Annie knew the real reason she didn’t want to leave them. She was afraid. She found herself jerking out of sleep to see if they were still breathing. If Darren and Vivian were nestled against her, she could be sure they were still alive. She’d heard terrible stories of children whose fevers got so high they had brain damage, or had gone deaf or blind. Sometimes it affected their heart and they developed a heart murmur. Her mother had told her a story of an uncle who died of scarlet fever back in France. Annie couldn’t deal with the fact that she might lose one of these children she’d grown to love so much. Every breath contained a prayer that they’d be alright, that their fevers would drop, that they’d be able to sleep, to eat, and get well.

  She felt like she might be overreacting. Children had been getting scarlet fever for centuries. Most had no complications from them at all. Annie knew she shouldn’t be afraid. B
ut she was. And she couldn’t even admit any of this to Coren, because she knew her fears were an echo of his own. She could see it in his eyes when he checked them or helped them take a drink. She didn’t want to add to his worry by voicing her own. So she kept it to herself, and forced herself to keep watch over the children, even when every part of her being tried to get her to sleep.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  By the fifth day, Coren was worried sick about Annie. He knew she wasn’t sleeping. He didn’t know the last time she’d closed her eyes for more than a few minutes at a time. He’d helped as much as he could in an effort to take some of the burden off her. They were, after all, his children. But he nothing he did would convince her to sleep. They were having an outbreak of the disease in their area and he’d been called out again and again. Annie had insisted he sleep so he could be prepared for any visits he needed to make.

  “Only if you sleep,” he’d said to her. He’d pushed her onto the cot she made, only to peek into the room a half hour later and find her pacing with Darren, or sitting propped against the wall on Vivian’s bed.

  “We have to get help,” he told her the next morning.

  Annie glared at him. “I’ll be fine,” she said. But her pale face and eyes ringed with dark circles told him another story.

  “Let me call your mother and see if she’ll come over,” he said. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. Coren felt her sag against his chest. Her breathing evened out.

  Annie abruptly stiffened and pushed him away. “I can take care of them. It’s my job. It’s my fault they got sick in the first place. I should have been watching Danny better.”

  “Annie, my darling Annie. They might have gotten sick regardless. It’s spread everywhere. I’m afraid of losing them, too. But I’m afraid of losing you. You have to sleep. Let me watch them for a while, if you don’t want your mother to come.”

  “What if you have to leave?”

  “I’ll wake you. I promise.”

  Annie considered. “No, I’ll be fine. I need to get this broth upstairs. They all need something to drink.” She walked past him and disappeared in the hall.

  A knock sounded on the front door. Pastor Morris stood outside. Coren started to invite him in, then changed his mind. “Can we talk out here?”

  “This is fine. I heard your whole family was sick and I came by to see them and pray with you. You all have had your share of trials the last couple years,” said Pastor Morris. “How are you doing? Is there anything we can do to help?” The man’s voice was gentle and his words genuine.

  Coren knew the worry showed in his face. “The children are doing as well as can be expected at this point. It’s Annie I’m most worried about. She’s been nursing the children without a break for days. I’ve tried to get her to rest, but I think she’s worried she won’t be there if they need her. I would like to see if her mother could come help. I don’t know how to reach her.”

  “Say no more. I have another stop to make. The Petit’s are right on my way. If Annette can’t come, I’m sure there’s another woman in the church who would be glad to help.”

  Coren sagged with relief. The pastor led them in prayer. Coren watched him leave. He took the stairs two at a time and hurried to the nursery. Annie had fallen asleep in the rocking chair with Darren on her chest.

  Annette arrived later that afternoon. As soon as she saw Annie and the children, she took charge.

  “I’ve nursed sick children many times. You take Annie into another room and make her sleep. Maybe you should try to sleep too. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  “Thank you,” said Coren. He hugged his mother-in-law.

  “Enough of that!” she said, pretending to be offended. He could see a tear shining in the corner of her eye. “Go take care of my daughter.”

  Coren was happy to oblige. Darren was fussing. Coren lifted him off Annie’s chest and handed him to her mother. He scooped Annie into his arms, carried her into his bedroom, and closed the door. She didn’t stir. It wasn’t until he laid her on the bed and began removing her shoes that Annie sat up and started to protest.

  “Coren, I can’t sleep right now.”

  “Your mother is here. You need to sleep.” He crawled onto the bed next to Annie and wrapped his arms around her. In seconds, her breathing evened out and he could tell she was sound asleep again. He managed to stay awake a few moments longer, enjoying the feel of his wife in his arms. Then he joined her in a deep, dreamless sleep.

  ∞

  Annie woke slowly, fighting her way out of the deep abyss of sleep she’d fallen into. Early morning light filtered around the curtains in the room. For a moment, she couldn’t figure out where she was. She remembered the previous afternoon and realized she was sleeping in Coren’s bed. She felt the bed next to her. It was empty. Coren must already be awake. Annie felt herself sliding back into sleep.

  Then she remembered the room full of sick children next door. She was awake in an instant. She jumped out of bed and rushed to the door. It stood open a crack. She peeked into the room. Coren dozed in the rocking chair with Darren against his chest and Vivian snuggled on one arm.

  Annie crept into the room and checked the other children. Danny, first to get sick was sleeping. Annie hovered her hand above his forehead and could tell that, if he still had a fever, it was mild and he was over the worst. Relieved tears formed in her eyes.

  She checked Ava next. The girl was awake. She caught Annie’s hand with her own warm one. Annie squeezed it. She brushed Ava’s hair off her forehead. Ava’s fever was down, too. “Try to sleep,” Annie whispered to her and Ava nodded. She turned onto her side and closed her eyes.

  Ezra still felt too hot to Annie. He kicked and moaned in his sleep when she checked him.

  “Vivian’s fever broke in the night,” Coren whispered. “Darren is breathing easier. I think we’ve turned a corner and everyone is doing better except Ezra.”

  Annie crossed to Coren and lifted Vivian out of his lap. She tucked the little girl into bed. Vivian didn’t stir. Coren stood and laid Darren in bed, too. He caught Annie’s hand and pulled her out of the room into the hall.

  “You slept for hours,” he said. He brought her fingers to his lips. “You look like you feel better. Do you want to eat before they all wake up?”

  Annie didn’t know if she was hungry or not. “I think I’ll try some tea first. I’m not very hungry.”

  Coren kept her hand in his and led her downstairs. He put the kettle on and pulled a chair out for her at the table. “Your mother left this morning. She told me Danny drank most of the broth she gave him last night and a lot of water, then fell asleep. Ava took more than normal, too. She was able to sleep most of the night on that little cot bed you made in the room.”

  “They’re all doing better,” Annie said. She swiped a tear off her cheek.

  “They should be completely well in a week or so,” Coren said. He set a cup of tea in front of Annie and joined her at the table. “You’ve been amazing. I don’t know what I would have done without you the last few days.” He cupped Annie’s cheek in his hand.

  Annie leaned into his hand. She was still too tired to respond.

  They made it through the next two days. Ezra finally began to improve. The children started sleeping better at night. They ate the light foods Annie gave them. Annie still slept on the cot in their room just in case someone needed her, but no one did.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  When Coren finally declared everyone scarlet fever-free, Annie flung the bedroom windows open to air the room. She stripped the beds and washed all the bedding. She put the cot away in the attic.

  “I feel like I don’t remember what ‘normal’ is anymore. We’ve been dealing with this for so long,” said Coren when Annie joined him in the hall after tucking the children into bed for the night.

  “I’m just looking forward to sleeping in a real bed,” said Annie. “I probably need to change my sheets, though. And yours.�
��

  “Don’t sleep in the guest room anymore,” said Coren. He reached for her and caught her hand in his. He stepped closer to her. “You know you’re welcome in my room.”

  Annie stared at Coren for several long seconds. She pulled her hand from his and hurried down the stairs. “I want a cup of tea. Would you like me to make you one, too?”

  But she was gone before he could answer.

  Coren went downstairs to his office. He felt defeated, discouraged. He’d tried to find ways to show Annie he loved her and wanted her. Apparently, he’d failed. He didn’t know where to go from here. Did he just pick her up and carry her to his room? He didn’t think that method would go over well. No, he wanted to know she loved him in return.

  He’d brought the journal full of his memories of Sarah back down to his office. The act of writing it all down had been cleansing, healing. He still missed his first wife, but the old anger was gone. Maybe he should start a journal about Annie and let her read it. He searched his desk for a blank book and came up empty.

  Coren brushed the papers scattered across his desk into a pile. His filing had been sorely neglected while the children were sick. He stacked the papers onto the corner of his desk. He’d see to them in the morning.

  The corner of an envelope slid out of the paperwork. Coren grabbed it. Annie had gotten a letter from her friend Emily when the children were in the worst of their sickness. Coren had forgotten to give it to her.

  ∞

  Annie knew she was being unreasonable with Coren. She loved him and had for a long time, even when he was too angry to love her in return. She loved when he wrapped her in his arms. She loved kissing him.

  But she still felt the specter of Sarah between them at all times.

  And he had never told her he loved her.

  Annie thought he’d said it weeks earlier, but the words had been so soft, she wasn’t sure. She thought he loved her. His actions told her he did. The way he sought her out for conversation. The way he told her about his day each evening.The way he reached for her, sometimes just to hold her hand, other times to pull her into his arms. The way he pressed kisses against her hair or fingers even when the children were around. The way he took care of as many things as he could when he was home — dishes, or getting the children ready for bed, or cleaning Darren after he was done eating, or watching them in the afternoon when they played outside.