by Mia Caldwell
“Even if they’ve never even held a baby before this one?” To be fair, Corbin had no idea I’d never held a baby, but he didn’t ask, either.
“Look. Is he still flirty when you see him?”
“I think so, but maybe Grandma’s right and I’m just seeing what I want to see.”
“Then flirt back, but maybe tease him about it, see how he reacts. He may not even know he’s doing it. You like a mystery, figure it out!”
I briefly picture myself pretending to stumble and tossing Maeve into his arms. Probably not a good plan.
Asia’s voice brings me back to the present. “Say, when can you come down again? You’re free weekends, right? There’s this guy on the force that Miguel wants you to meet. Or are you shipping yourself too hard to Mr.Troubled Daddy?”
“What? No, of course not, I’m just curious is all. I mean, he’s hot, but I’m not writing his name in my notebook. Not this weekend, though, I’m going to sleep every moment I’m not in the bar. This baby gig is way harder than it looks.”
“You’ll look forward to trading her for a classroom of 35 third graders.”
I say, “Oh yeah!” but that’s not how I really feel. Only a week in and I’m pretty attached to Maeve. And, okay, to the pretty cushy life she’s giving me, sleeplessness aside. I love teaching, and I do want to go back, really! but I’m weirdly consumed by this strange little family.
With Asia’s advice in mind, the next day I’m on the alert for Corbin sightings. I make sure we’re in the pool at about the same time as yesterday, but he doesn’t come out. We wander the house a bit and I keep an eye out, but I never catch a glimpse of him.
“This isn’t fair to you, is it, Maeve? Here I’m trying to make sure you Daddy sees you more and I’m ignoring you to do it.”
Maeve says “Ow!” and reaches for my ear, since I’ve started pulling my hair back. Those tugs on my braids were probably where she learned “Ow” in the first place.
I carry her back to the nursery and plop her on the rug while I get the busy box off the shelf. She likes to jab at the buttons until the sheep pops out of the hole. Someone has come in to tidy while we were gone and it takes me a while to find it, in a toy box, under the plush farm set we’d been playing with this morning.
I turn back to her, saying “Where’s Mr. Sheepy!” in the high tone that usually gets her flapping her arms and giggling, but when I see her, the toy drops from my hands.
Her lips are blue and her eyes are huge and terrified. She falls backwards just as I reach her, scooping her face-down over my thigh as I collapse onto the rug. The CPR training we got at school comes to me instantly and I hold her jaw in one hand as I start the series of back blows. It’s weirdly instinctive even though I’ve never had to do it to an actual child before.
After two blows between her shoulders, I hear her cough and start to wail. There’s a button, perfectly trachea-sized, on the rug. I’m holding Maeve to my chest, rocking her back and forth, trying to soothe her–and me, my heart is about to explode, I’m pretty sure–when the door of the nursery bursts open.
In one enormous stride, Corbin is beside us on the rug. Again without thinking, I press his baby into his arms. As he holds her close, he looks at me, his eyes full of fear and brimming with tears–so very like Maeve’s eyes just moments before.
“Oh my god, Vanessa,” he whispers. “I was so sure I’d lost her, too.”
“How did you know to come?” I ask.
“I was watching you guys on the monitor…I do a lot, it…it calms me down, helps me think. Then I saw her pick something up from the carpet. And then I saw her face. I couldn’t see you, so I ran.”
“I was getting a toy, it all happened so fast!” My heart is still just pounding. My legs are jelly, I’m glad I’m already on the ground.
Maeve’s sobs are turning to hiccups and she pushes back from Corbin’s chest. He looks down at her and smiles. A real smile that goes all the way up. “You gave me a scare, Maeve,” he says.
Her “Da!” is a little ragged, but she puts a chubby hand on his mouth.
He sighs. “I don’t think I can stand up. That gave me a fright.”
“To say the least,” I chuckle. “I’m just going to stay on the rug a bit myself. And feel glad for those CPR lessons.”
Corbin shakes his head, a dark lock falling into his eyes. “I never even asked if you knew first aid. I got as far as ‘She’s pretty and good with a baby, I should hire her.’”
I’m more distracted by the “she’s pretty” part than I should be. I smile and say, “Probably not how most folks hire a nanny.”
His broad shoulders slump a little as he watches Maeve playing with the buttons on his shirt. “What do I know about babies? That ice cube trick won me over.” He looks at me, his eyes so intense I have to look away. “And you seemed kind. That felt like the most important thing.”
I’m a little uncomfortable, but I don’t want him to go, I try to steer the conversation a bit. “So, how is the search for her real nanny going?”
Corbin seems to be shaking off a ghost as he raises his eyebrows and says, “You know how movies will have a funny montage where a band is interviewing drummers or something and each one is hilariously awful in a different way?”
I smile and nod.
“Like that, only not particularly funny. Are you sure you won’t just stay on? If it’s about money, I’ll give you more.”
It is tempting until I picture my classroom on the first day, those fresh faces, scared and excited. I think of little Hugo Alvarez. “No, sorry, if it was for the money I wouldn’t still be teaching once my obligation is up. I love my job.” I reach out and stroke Maeve’s soft dark hair. “I will miss her, though.”
At my touch, Maeve turns and reaches for me, leaning away from her father. I resist putting my hands up for her, this is what I wanted, right?
“Well, she’ll miss you, for sure. I think she likes you and Marta best.”
There it is, the opening I was looking for and I feel like I can’t take it while he’s still recovering from a scare. I hedge a little. “Look, I have to go to make it back for my shift at the bar. I’ll change her before I go, but could you take her so I don’t have to go find Marta or Connie?”
He nods, but when I come back out of Maeve’s bedroom, it’s Marta waiting in the Nursery. He just disappeared. I’m sure it’s just the remaining adrenaline in my system, but I feel a surge of anger. How hard is it to hold your own baby for more than a few minutes? He’d seemed so connected and grateful when he held her just a little while ago.
“Mr. Pierce had a call,” Marta says, but it doesn’t help. I just nod and hand Maeve over.
“See you Monday,” I say.
I stew all the way home. I’m still feeling cranky when I get to No Winers and there’s some blonde chick behind the bar.
“Uh, hi?” I say.
“Vanessa?” she says smiling and reaching out a hand, “I’m Bre. I’ll be your replacement. Mitch wanted me to shadow you tonight before I take over tomorrow.”
Great. And now I don’t get my last week of extra income. It’s good, really, because I’ll get to bed earlier, but coming now, when I’m already feeling pissy? I have to force the smile back to Bre the Blonde with Big Boobs. She’ll get more tips than me, too.
I can’t even focus my hate on Bre because she’s really nice. She’s not even flirting with the customers, she’s just focused on her job. And Dan and Eric don’t even come in so I can be mean to them and get it out of my system.
When I get home, I tell my beta fish, Bootsy Collins, that he’s stupid and worthless. Weirdly, that doesn’t make me feel any better. I vow to get Bootsy a new plant for his vase.
It feels like I’ve barely fallen asleep when my phone wakes me up.
It’s 4 a.m. and it’s Corbin. Probably not a booty call.
“Vanessa? Thank god. Can you meet me at the hospital? It’s Maeve.”
My brain is foggy and I’m thinking �
��but I saved her” and trying to sort out what’s going on.
“Vanessa?!”
“I’m here, sorry, what’s going on?”
“Maeve started getting a fever after dinner. It hit 104 and I’m taking her to the hospital. Please, can you meet me there?” His voice is tight, panicked.
“Um, sure, of course, I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”
Fighting my way out of the cobwebs of sleep, I pull on some clothes and head out to the car. What am I supposed to do? They’re going to the hospital, and I don’t know what to do for fever, anyway. In old movies they put the kids in an ice bath. Always with the ice cubes with that kid.
That thought stabs my heart as I realize I actually want to be there, that I’m really attached to Maeve and Corbin’s right, she likes me best, and maybe I could comfort her.
I race through the dark, silent streets to the hospital. The ER waiting room is busy, as is usual on a Friday night. Mostly the victims of drunken brawls and minor accidents. I scan the room, looking for Corbin who would tower above this room full of Central American men. In the far corner, I spy Marta, her head resting back against the wall.
She’s sleeping, but I touch her arm. “Marta!”
When she opens her eyes and sees me, I say, “How’s Maeve? Where’s Cor–Mr.Pierce?”
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?”