by Karen Pokras
Added to that, Mr. Abbott was in a bad mood, again, and his moods seemed to be getting worse. This wasn’t the first time he’d thrown the binder back to her, but usually she had a day or so to let him simmer down. She’d tweak some of the formats and colors in her charts, careful not to disturb any of the actual calculations, and present it all back to him … during her regular working hours. He’d give her some line about how if she got the numbers right the first time, she wouldn’t have had to redo everything. She’d smile, say, “Yes, sir,” and be on her way. Tessa could handle that routine. That routine didn’t take her away from her time with Sophie. Lately, however, he seemed to get a kick out of making her work late. Him and his damn ego—did he really think he could push her around like that? Apparently so, as here she was working past six o’clock yet again.
Having done all of the usual insignificant changes, she pondered just how long she should sit in her office, pretending to work before printing out the new reports for her boss. Judging by his current phone conversation, she’d have to add a few minutes to let him cool off before approaching him.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass. I’m tired of your excuses. Either get the job done, or I’ll find someone who can.”
She cringed as she listened to his temper tantrum through her office walls. At least he’d moved on to screaming at someone else. Wondering who it was and what they’d done to piss him off, she settled back into her chair and closed her eyes, blocking out the sounds and grateful for a moment of reprieve. Ava had most likely picked Sophie up already. If she left in the next twenty minutes, she could probably get her daughter before they started eating dinner.
“Tessa!”
Startled, she sat up straight. Her boss stood in her doorway, looking annoyed as usual.
“I’m not paying you to sleep on the job.”
“I’m not sleeping, sir, I was just—”
“Save it. I’m heading out for the night. I expect those reports to be fixed and on my desk when I return in the morning. I’m meeting with Nicholas first thing in the morning. If he’s not happy, I’m not happy. Do you know what happens if I’m not happy?”
“Then I won’t be happy?” she meekly asked.
“I don’t pay you to be happy. I pay you to work. Get it? Lock up when you leave.”
His eyes, already small and full of anger, shrunk even more as he squinted into a purposeful glare, before sharply turning away. Without another word he was gone. The front door to Abbott and Associates slammed shut behind him on his way out.
“Actually,” she muttered, “you’re not paying me at all at the moment, since I get the same salary whether I leave at five or work all night long. Lord knows you’re too cheap to give me any overtime.”
Through her window she watched as his over-priced, mid-life crisis sports car raced out of the parking lot. What made Nicholas Schilling so special anyway? He was just some stodgy old businessman who happened to have a lot of money. So much money, in fact, that he paid an outrageous sum for her firm to keep track of it all. She could keep track of her own funds in about sixty seconds flat. Big deal. Money wasn’t everything. She clicked print to get the reports started.
Sitting at her desk as the paper started to feed through the machine, she felt even more hostile toward this man she’d never met. Rich old bastard. The quarterly meetings were always held at his office in the city or some other fancy locale. He was apparently far too important and busy to come out to Forest Hills. Mr. Abbott didn’t seem to mind and always made it a point to bring Schilling’s favorite scotch and cigars with him. Scotch and cigars for a nine a.m. meeting? Nasty. Thankfully, she wasn’t ever asked to attend. She wanted no part of their snooty boy’s club bonding.
While Tessa checked her email, the printer continued to hum. Junk. Always junk. She’d sent out a fresh batch of resumes this week, including one to a tiny theater looking for a full-time financial manager. It wasn’t her ideal position, but it got her closer to the stage and paid enough to cover her bills. More importantly, it took her away from this place. Unfortunately, she’d yet to hear a response to that or any of the other jobs she’d applied for. The job market was a tough one these days.
Screeching out a piercing beep, the printer came to a grinding halt.
Damn. Walking over to the machine, she began the arduous process of opening and shutting compartments, trying to figure out exactly where the paper jammed. When was Mr. Abbott going to get that new printer he kept promising? Never. He was a cheap bastard.
After no less than an hour and a half of printer wrangling, Tessa finally placed the finished reports on her boss’ desk. The charts looked completely different, but the numbers were exactly the same. He’d never notice. Idiot. She grabbed her coat and purse, hoping to get to Ava’s house before Sophie passed out on the couch. All she’d wanted was some quality time with her daughter, and now her entire night was ruined; wasted on trying to please old man Abbott, money-bucks Schilling, and a temperamental printer. Just as she reached the door to leave, the telephone began to ring.
“The machine can pick it up,” she mumbled before realizing she’d forgotten to turn it on. Sighing, she reached for the phone. “Good evening, Abbot & Associates,” she said, hoping it wasn’t her boss checking up on her.
“Oh … hello,” the deep voice said, sounding surprised. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone to still be there. I was just going to leave a message. Is Steven Abbott in by chance?”
“No, he’s gone for the day. Can I help you with something?”
“Yes, this is Nicholas Schilling. Tell Steve I apologize for the late notice, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel our meeting for tomorrow. I’ll be out of town for the next few days and will call to reschedule when I get back.”
Hunching her shoulders forward, Tessa shook her head in frustration. “Of course. I’ll leave him the message, sir.”
“Thanks, and again, please apologize to him for me. I hope cancelling on short notice like this isn’t too much of an inconvenience for anyone.”
“No, it’s no problem at all,” she lied, as she scribbled a quick note on the pad of paper that sat at the front desk.
“Thank you. I’ll be in touch.” He abruptly hung up the phone.
“Nope, it’s no problem at all,” she repeated as she slid to the floor and began to cry.
Chapter 4
Shortly after nine o’clock, Tessa pulled into Ava’s driveway. She sat for a moment, listening as the crickets chirped amongst the rustling leaves, and rested her head on the steering wheel in pure exhaustion. The sound of a passing car brought her out of her drowsy state. Shaking her head to wake herself up, she grabbed her keys and headed toward the front door.
“Is she asleep?” She softly walked over to the couch where Sophie was curled up with her favorite blanket and doll, both gifts from Tessa’s parents when she was born. Three years later, her daughter never let them out of her sight. The pink and purple blanket, frayed in several places, but soft as anything from having been washed so many times over the years, Sophie had named Biddy back before she could even say Mama. The doll she called Daisy, most likely for the flowers on her dress that were once vibrant, but were now barely recognizable.
“She had no interest in dinner,” Ava said, brushing the hair off her eyes. “And passed out shortly after we got home. Her teacher said she seemed kind of out of it.” Resting her hand on her forehead, she looked at her niece with concern. “The fever just started, but I didn’t want to wake her to give her anything. I knew you’d be here soon.”
Tessa nodded, trying to act surprised that her daughter was sick. The truth was, Sophie hadn’t felt well that morning either. In her heart, Tessa knew she should have kept her home, but the reality was she couldn’t. The big Schilling meeting had been on tap for tomorrow, and even though she’d had the reports done correctly and on her boss’ desk way ahead of schedule, the first time, she had a feeling he’d find something to complain about. He usually did.
All that aside, however, the reality was that she was out of personal days. Mr. Abbott wasn’t one of those bosses who just shrugged and said, “Aw, your daughter’s sick? No problem, take the day off.” Or even, “Take the day, but I’m not paying you.” No. He was one of those bosses who said, “If you don’t show up, don’t bother coming back.” The fact that she worked more than her share of hours this week was completely irrelevant. She really needed to find a new job.
Putting her hand to her daughter’s forehead, she felt the heat radiating off it before even making contact. Crap. There was no way she could send her to daycare tomorrow. But who would stay with her when she went to work? Ava had already gone above and beyond. Tessa didn’t feel right asking her for another favor. Holly was out of the question as she worked full-time, and her parents were away on a two-week cruise. Damn you, Scott. You should be here sharing the responsibility.
“Are you hungry?” Ava asked. “I can give Sophie some medicine, and she can rest here for a bit longer. I’ve got chicken left over from dinner. Or, I can make some tea if you just want to unwind a little.”
Tessa was both stressed out and hungry. Starving, in fact. She hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, if you even wanted to call it that. Technically, she was supposed to get an hour lunch every day, but she rarely took one. Mr. Abbott usually scoffed at her if she left her desk to even use the restroom, let alone leave for lunch. Her afternoon meal generally consisted of stale coffee, a power bar, and an apple at her desk while her boss was out at one of his own fancy lunches—at which time, she wasn’t allowed to leave the office. God forbid she left the phones unattended, she’d never hear the end of it. Still, food was the last thing on her mind at the moment.
“Thanks, but I think I should get Sophie home. It’s been a long day.” Picking up the daycare bag, she slung it over her shoulder and gazed at her daughter. She looked so peaceful with thick dark lashes covering her closed eyes. Her breathing was calm, almost melodic, casting a spell over Tessa as she watched the dark curls turn into waves that framed her beautiful yet delicate features.
“Are you okay?” Ava asked, disturbing the trance. “Do you need help carrying her out to the car?”
“No, I’ll be fine. I just want to get her to bed.” Gently lifting her daughter up to her shoulder, Sophie clutched her doll and blanket even tighter as she nuzzled into Tessa’s neck. She stopped to savor the warmth of her daughter’s closeness. It brought her a comfort no man had ever been able to duplicate. Her daughter may not have been planned, but Tessa couldn’t imagine a life without Sophie in it. “Thank you for picking her up, I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”
“It’s never too much trouble.” Ava smiled at her. “Sophie’s family.”
Was that a look of understanding or pity?
“I hope she feels better. Will you call me tomorrow and let me know how she’s doing? I’m assuming you’ll keep her home?”
Looking at her sister, Tessa nodded and noted how carefully worded that last sentence was. It purposefully lacked an offer to help. She didn’t blame her sister. As much as Ava loved Sophie, she had her own two children to think about first. Keeping them healthy was most likely on the forefront of her mind.
“Yes. Hopefully my boss will be okay with me working from home. I mean, he’s just going to have to be.” Either that, or I’ll be out of a job. Guess I’ll find out in the morning. She tried to force a smile as she headed toward the door. Sophie moaned in her sleep as Tessa moved. “It’s okay, baby,” she soothed. “We’ll get you home and to bed in just a few minutes.” As Tessa reached down to get her daughter’s coat off the couch, the bag on her shoulder slid down her arm, bumping Sophie in the leg.
“Mama, I hurts,” she whimpered softly waking up with tears starting to stream down her face.
“I know, sweetie. I’m sorry. Let’s go home and get you all better.”
Ava followed her sister out to her car and helped to get Sophie buckled safely into her seat, despite Tessa’s earlier protests that she didn’t need assistance. Sophie was back asleep with her blanket and doll secure in her arms within seconds.
“Promise to call me tomorrow, okay?” Ava asked, eyes full of worry.
“I will, promise.” Sliding into the front seat, Tessa checked behind her to make sure her daughter still looked comfortable before starting up the ignition.
Chapter 5
Twenty minutes after Tessa finally fell asleep, the crying started. It wasn’t full-blown screaming, like when Sophie was having a nightmare, it was more of a constant sob, mixed in with a horrible wheezing sound … and it didn’t sound right. A mother’s intuition was never wrong.
Stumbling out of bed, Tessa wearily made her way to her daughter’s bedroom. She didn’t have far to go. Their two-bedroom apartment was more like a one-bedroom that had an extra wall put in as an afterthought to create the additional room. She’d had more space in her tiny college apartment.
“I’m here, baby,” she said, padding her way through the dark, past the stuffed toys and piles of laundry strewn on the floor toward the sounds coming from her daughter.
Tessa cradled Sophie in her arms, trying to get her to sit up in hopes of helping her breathe a little better. Her eyes remained closed. Was she still asleep? Her daughter’s cheeks were bright red, while the skin underneath was ashen grey, not the beautiful porcelain color everyone always raved about. The temperature coming off her neck was red hot.
“Mama needs to grab the thermometer and a cool cloth for you. I’ll be right back.” Kissing her daughter on her forehead and propping her up against some pillows, she tried to think if her skin had ever felt so warm before. Sure she’d been sick in the past, but never so hot and lethargic. And she’d never heard wheezing like that as far as she could recall.
Coming back quickly, Tessa draped the wet towel across Sophie’s head and waited for the familiar beep from the thermometer already in her ear. Within seconds, she pulled it out and blinked her eyes as she looked at the number on the display. Hitting clear, she placed the tip back in her daughter’s ear a second time just to be sure. Once again it beeped, and Tessa read the number. One hundred and five point five. Twice. There was no mistake. She’d given Sophie a dose of fever reducing medicine just an hour before. Her temperature should have been going down, not up. She wrapped her daughter in her blanket, made sure she had Biddy and Daisy, grabbed her own purse and keys, and headed out to the emergency room at Crestmont Memorial Hospital.
~~~
The E.R. was packed, but they took Sophie back to a triage room right away. Over the next hour or so, several nurses, medical students, and interns came in and out of their room—asking questions, looking, examining, taking vitals, and poking. Poor Sophie. All she wanted to do was sleep. All Tessa wanted was some answers and something to help her daughter get better … fast.
So much for getting called back to a room quickly. They would have been better off being left out in the waiting room to rest. The doctor on call still hadn’t seen them yet. She tried to lay Sophie down on the bed in the room, hoping she would get some sleep, but she only wanted her mama to hold her in an upright position. Managing to get up on the exam table with her back against the wall and her daughter resting on her shoulder, Tessa felt her eyes getting heavy.
She woke with a start an hour and a half later as the curtain to their room screeched open. A man in a white lab coat, holding a chart, introduced himself as the doctor. The real doctor—not the med student or the intern—but the person they’d come to see almost three hours ago. Tessa was so annoyed at the fact she’d been waiting so long, she didn’t bother to pay attention to his name, nor did she accept his handshake. She merely stayed on the exam table and waited for him to do whatever he needed to do to help her daughter.
Quickly looking down to his chart, he scanned it before starting to speak in a rushed voice. Great. He’s going to look at her for thirty seconds, say she’s sick, and send us on our way. In ten days, I’ll get a bill. Aweso
me.
“It seems your daughter has the flu, Mrs …” The doctor flipped through the chart, apparently looking for Tessa’s last name.
“It’s Miss,” she replied with an irritated tone. Why did they always assume? “Miss Haines.”
He looked up. Was that a smile? Surely he wasn’t hitting on her in the middle of the night when she was there holding her sick child. Ugh! So what if he was swoon-worthy with piercing blue eyes and a perfect three a.m. stubble. She was way too peeved about the wait and only cared about getting Sophie better.
“… and she had the flu shot. She gets it every year,” she added, still aggravated. Between a stressful day and evening at work, a sick child, and now sitting in this room for hours, she was completely out of patience.
The doctor closed his chart and examined Sophie as Tessa held her, listening to her heart and lungs, and checking other vitals, before hopping up on the exam table to sit next to them. Tessa slid down slightly to move away.
“You didn’t hear this from me,” he said, leaning into her, “but the flu shot is kind of worthless, at least this year. The manufacturers of the vaccine have to try to figure out which strain of the flu will hit months before the shot goes into production. This year they didn’t even come close to getting it right. We’re seeing more and more cases of it every day. Especially in little ones.”
“Fabulous,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. Sophie moaned as she nodded off again, placing her head back on her mom’s shoulder. At least she was getting some rest. “So, how long until she’s feeling better?”
“It’s hard to say,” he responded. He reached his hand to push Sophie’s hair out of her eyes and felt her forehead. “You were smart to bring her in. We can give her something for her fever and an anti-viral medication that has had some success in helping to relieve some of the symptoms when it’s caught early, as in this case. The good news is the vaccine sometimes lessens the duration of the virus even if it doesn’t prevent it. She’ll be fine in a week or so. It just has to work its way through her system. Make sure she gets plenty of fluids and lots of rest.” He hopped off the table and pulled a prescription pad from his coat pocket.