by Ward, Vivian
“That’s what I heard, but I wanted to let you know that if you need anything—we’re here for you.”
“You’re sweet Tyrone. That really means a lot to me.”
After he left, I walked into the house. Nevaeh was lying on the couch covered up with her favorite blanket. I smiled at her, hoping to relieve her some since I was there.
“I’m okay momma,” she mumbled as she watched cartoons, sensing I was worried.
“Okay. I’m going to go talk to Lorraine. I’ll be right back.” I kissed Nevaeh’s forehead and called for my friend. “Lorraine!” I yelled throughout the house.
“In here,” Lorraine said as she emptied a cap of detergent into the washing machine.
I walked into the laundry room and asked, “How did she do today?”
“She wasn’t her usual self. She seems frail and exhausted. It was a chore for her to lift her head. I even carried her to the bathroom once.”
“Seriously?” My heart dropped. What was wrong with my little girl? “I guess all we can do is give her ibuprofen until she gets into her pediatrician, and you’re taking her, right?”
“Yes, I am. Could they get her in any sooner than Friday?”
“I doubt it, but I’ll ask.”
I had already tried, but they were booked solid and Friday was the earliest appointment available, which was only because they had a cancelation before I scheduled Nevaeh’s visit.
“Can you help me carry her and her things out to the car?”
“Of course.”
That night, I carefully watched my darling and saw what Lorraine had told me about. She was so weak. Her frail body looked delicate and fragile as I sat next to her in bed.
“How are you doing sweetie?” I asked her.
“I’m okay momma.”
I kissed her on the cheek and wished her a good night before flipping off the light. A tear rolled down my face as horrible thoughts raced through my mind. I’d already lost my dad; I couldn’t stand to live without my baby. What if it was cancer? It was more than I could bare. I tried to shut off my mind as I fought to fall asleep.
The next morning, Nevaeh was still the same, which made it difficult to wake her up. I did what I didn’t want to do and notified my boss that I wouldn’t make it in.
“Kevin, this is Kimberly. I won’t be coming it in today.”
“Again? What is it now?” he protested in a hostile voice.
“Nevaeh’s still sick, but she’s gotten worse. I can’t even get her out of bed.”
“This is getting ridiculous. You can’t just take off once a week. I gave you a break last time when you needed off, but I’m giving you a point today.”
“Well, then I guess that’s what you’ll have to do. Kevin, my baby is sick and she needs me. She’s too weak to get dressed or to take her to the sitter’s house. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon so I won’t be in then either.”
“Really?” he hissed.
“Yes, really. Nevaeh is my priority. With the condition she’s in, I’m going to stay with her,” I stated, not caring whether my boss liked it or not.
“That’s two points,” he warned before hanging up on me.
Frustrated, I called my best friend. I was beside myself as I reflected how hateful and mean Kevin was treating me. Venting would do me some good. After I told Lorraine what happened, my friend agreed with me—he was being a jerk and didn’t show any compassion. It made me feel better that at least someone shared my opinions.
By the time Friday rolled around, my daughter had shown no change. Her back still hurt and her fever was still present. Her knees, ankles, toes and fingers were all swollen. The ibuprofen only seemed to keep her temperature at bay for a few short hours before it reared its ugly head again. When we finally got to her appointment, I explained all of my daughter’s symptoms and her behavior to the pediatrician.
“It’s just so out of the blue for her to act this way. She’s normally your typical rambunctious eight-year-old girl who loves to run and play,” I pleaded with the doctor to figure out what was wrong with my little girl.
“It’s possible we could do an x-ray though it won’t help much since whatever she has is affecting various parts of her body. I’d suggest we do some blood testing and analyze the results. It’s hard to say what she might have without having some numbers to determine what we’re dealing with.”
I agreed that it was probably the best route to go. “When will those be available?” I asked as I held Nevaeh closer.
“We should have them back within a few days, but a couple of them might take about seven days or so.”
I sighed; it didn’t sound very promising to me. I wanted immediate answers—I didn’t want to wait a week. I wanted her back to her old self. “There’s no way we can rush the tests?” I begged, hopeful that the doctor might be able to pull some strings.
“I’m afraid not. That’s just how long some of the labs take.” He looked over Nevaeh’s chart, “Is there any family history of others having these symptoms?” he inquired.
“No. No one in my family has ever had any kind of disease except diabetes, and that was on my mom’s side,” I answered him.
“What about on her dad’s side?” he continued probing.
“I couldn’t tell you, but I don’t recall him ever speaking of any.”
“Is there any way you could find out? Perhaps call him and ask him?” the doctor suggested.
“It’s not like I can contact him quickly. The last I heard, he was in prison, and I couldn’t begin to imagine which one. We’ve not had any contact for a long time and I don’t have anything to do with his family either.”
“I understand. We’ll get her blood drawn and request the labs right away. In the meantime, continue to give her ibuprofen for her fever, and it should also help alleviate some of the pain she’s suffering from. I’ll keep you posted,” he promised as he walked us to the door.
In the parking lot, I broke down after I got my daughter buckled into her booster seat. I tried to hide it from her, but the loud sobs escaped my mouth before I could stop them. Fear and panic took over and won.
“Momma, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Nevaeh worried as she looked at me from the rearview mirror.
I turned the mirror, looking at her as she sat in the backseat. “I’m just upset about you baby. Mommy loves you so much.” I wiped the tears from my face.
“I’m sorry for worrying you, momma. I’ll get better. I promise,” Nevaeh vowed.
I hated that she witnessed my breakdown. I was worried that it might scare her, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. The ride home was quiet as I was unable bring myself to talk. I knew that if I opened my mouth, I’d start crying again, and I didn’t want to risk having an accident as I drove.
We laid in bed together that night. After my sweet angel was asleep, I prayed to my dad to help my baby girl get over whatever she had. It was all that I could do, hoping he was watching over us.
“Dad, if you can hear me, please help Nevaeh. I have no clue what’s wrong with her and the doctor’s trying to figure it out. Watch over her and keep her healthy and strong for me. I love you and miss you,” I whispered as tears fell from the corners of my eyes.
The next morning, I awoke with swollen eyelids and a pounding headache. Still, I was in better condition than Nevaeh. My poor little girl tried to hide the fact that she was crying in pain as she hugged herself. The fever had returned with a vengeance.
“Sweet Pea, mommy’s going to go get your medicine. Do you want anything to eat?”
The slumped over eight-year-old shook her head no. All she wanted to do was lie there and cuddle up with me. I called in to work for the third day in a row. At this point, money was the furthest thing from my mind, and I didn’t care about my job. Nevaeh’s health was more important at the moment. I hoped that my dad had listened to my prayers and would answer them. Lorraine phoned me later that morning to check on Nevaeh.
“H
ow come you’re not here yet?” My friend questioned.
“Nevaeh’s so bad right now; I can’t leave her.”
“Did you call in again?”
“Yeah, and that bastard told me it’d be another point,” I whispered.
“Can’t you do something? Like, file for FMLA or something? Or take vacation, maybe?” Lorraine prompted, trying to help find a solution to my problems.
“No, nobody at my work can. They don’t have more than 50 employees within a 75-mile radius so they’re not required to offer it to us and we’re not offered vacation.”
“That stinks! Your boss wouldn’t fire you, would he?” she sympathized.
“Who knows? There is a rule stating we’re only allowed to have 10 points before we’re terminated.”
“And how many do you have right now?”
“Three, including today.”
“When did you accumulate the others?” To Lorraine’s knowledge, I almost never took a day off.
“He’s given me a point each day for the last three days.”
“You should ask him if he’ll reconsider and roll it all into one since the days you missed were consecutive. It’s all about the same absence. A lot of employers will do that; it’s worth a shot asking him.”
“Yeah, I’ll have to do that when I return to work. He’s pretty pissed off at me now, so I doubt this would be the most opportune time to try to sway things in my favor.”
“You’re probably right. I’ll let you go so you can get back to her. If you need anything, just give me a call. Love you guys.”
“We love you too, and thanks.” My best friend was so kind to us.
I continued to stay next to Nevaeh’s side for the rest of the afternoon, watching cartoons and repeatedly checking on her. I fed her a diet of soup, Sprite, and ibuprofen. I continuously prayed to my dad, asking him to heal my daughter, hoping he would. It was unbearable seeing my baby so sick. My heart physically hurt.
Chapter Five
Dale
I wondered if Kimberly had as a good of time as she claimed she had. I hadn’t had any communication with her all week and started to take this as a signal that she wasn’t interested. I will win her over. Confused by her behavior at our luncheon and her most recent actions, I decided to consult with my friend Charles. I don’t want to lose her. She’s the best woman I’ve ever dated.
“Do you remember that girl that I told you I was going to take out?” I questioned, trying to jog his memory.
“Sure, wasn’t her name Karen or Katie?”
“No, it was Kimberly. Anyway, I finally took her out and I’ve talked to her a couple of times since then but I haven’t been able to get a hold of her. Do you think she’s trying to ditch me?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you try going up to her work?” my friend suggested.
“I did, but she hasn’t been there. She refused to give me her address so I can’t go by her house. Do you still have that guy’s number? The one who skip traces people?”
“Stalking much lately?” he teased.
“It’s not stalking when I’m genuinely concerned about her. She’d mentioned that her daughter was sick. She’s a good, reliable woman. I can’t picture her leaving her job for no reason.”
“With all the money that you have, are you sure you didn’t offend her in some way? Usually, the ladies are lined up to score a date with you.”
“Look, are you going to give me your guy’s number or not?”
“Yeah, yeah. Let me get it real quick. You’re a pain in the ass. You know that?”
“I’ve been told that a time or two,” I bragged.
“Okay, are you ready?” Charlie asked.
“Go ahead,” I said, grabbing a pen.
I scribbled down the guy’s name and number. “Thanks,” I said.
“You’re the only wealthy, eligible bachelor who would chase down a single-parent waitress for a second date. What’s so special about her anyway?” Charles quizzed.
“You’d have to meet her. She’s really down-to-Earth, she’s friendly, funny, smart and beautiful. She’s like a diamond in the rough—and how do they say it? It’s better to have a diamond with a flaw than no diamond at all. That gorgeous diamond makes me light up every time she crosses my mind.”
“Oh boy, save it for the vows. You’re making me gag,” my friend snickered at me.
“Yeah? Well, look at you. You’ll date anything that can walk and has a warm hole. The way your love life’s been going, I’m thinking the warm hole is optional these days,” I taunted, busting his chops as I laughed.
“Ha. Ha. You’re so smart, aren’t you? Go call my guy. I’m sure he’ll be able to help you.”
After hanging up with Charlie, I called his guy. Joseph List was his name.
“Hi, Joe?” I said as he answered the phone.
“Who’s this?” he barked.
“My name’s Dale Halloway. My friend Charles Jenkins gave me your number. I’m needing help finding an old friend of mine. Can you help me?”
“Depends,” he took a drag off his cigarette. “What kind of information are you looking for and how much are you willing to pay?”
“I need her address, and money’s not an issue. Can you do it?”
“Now if I give you that information, I’m not going to see a hacked up body on the news tomorrow, am I?”
“What? God, no! I’m not some fucking criminal. I’d like to pay her a friendly visit. We haven’t seen each other for a while,” I lied.
“What’s the gal’s name?” the gruff man on the other end of the line asked.
“Her name is Kimberly Harris, and she lives in Imperial.”
“What other information do you have on this girl?”
“I have her cell phone number,” I offered.
“Well if you have her number, why don’t you call her and ask for her address yourself?” he challenged.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of her, but she hasn’t answered the calls. Her daughter’s been sick so I’m worried about them.”
“Mmhmm, I see,” the old private investigator said. “Give me about twenty minutes or so and I’ll call you back.”
While I waited for the old man to call me back, I tried looking her up online. All I could find was her Facebook page and a few profiles for various other websites. Nothing of use, as of right now anyway. As promised, the P.I. called me back with her address.
I hopped in the car, heading to the address the investigator gave me. She didn’t live too far from me. I knew she was just another woman—but she was the woman I wanted to be with. “Here it goes, now or never,” I said to myself as I got on the freeway. I tried calling her one last time as I got off at her exit. To my surprise, she answered.
“Hey Kimberly, I was calling to see how you were doing,” I mused, trying to keep it light.
“I’ve been sitting here with Nevaeh for the last few days. She’s been really sick.” She explained.
“Oh, that's a shame. Does she have a cold or something?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s much more complicated than a simple cold.” Kimberly explained all of Nevaeh’s symptoms and how her behavior had changed from energetic to lethargic.
“That sounds pretty serious,” I stressed. “Have you taken her to the doctor?”
Even though I’d not had the opportunity to meet her, I already felt I knew her by how much Kimberly had talked about her during our lunch date. She was quite the topic of conversation. Oddly, I pictured Nevaeh to look exactly like her mom. In my mind, I could envision a small light-skinned girl with cute little braids. I wouldn’t find out until later, but in reality, I was almost dead on in my description.
“Yes, I took her yesterday as well as last week. The doctor has no clue what’s wrong with her. Originally, her symptoms weren’t as bad; he thought maybe she was sore and swollen from playing on hard surfaces and that she possibly had a bug, which caused her fever. Now he’s not sure and ordered some lab wo
rk,” she explained.
“You took her last week? You didn’t mention that when we went out to lunch. If your daughter was sick, you didn’t have to go out with me.” It dawned on me that was probably the reason I hadn’t heard from her—she was busy taking care of her ill daughter. Suddenly, guilt swept over me.
“Like I said, the ibuprofen seemed to help her and she was doing a little better. She was able to get up and walk, move freely and her fever had subsided. It wasn’t until after our date when she got worse. I had planned on calling you one night, but that morning when Nevaeh woke up, she was so sick. I had to focus on her. I’m sorry.”