“But he won’t swallow,” Lily insisted. Not to quarrel, but because their attempts had been maddeningly futile.
Geraldine turned to Lily’s mother. “Got an ice block?”
“Several. Down in the deli.”
“We’ll need a bunch of tiny chips. We can tuck ’em in his cheek.”
Ellis volunteered, “I’ll fill up a bowl.” He hurried off toward the stairs.
“Now, let’s work on cooling him down. Have we tried a bath yet?”
Lily’s mother again answered dutifully, an oddity from a woman accustomed to captaining her household. “We asked the nurse about an ice bath. She said to hold off unless he had a seizure.”
“Lukewarm is better, and no reason to wait.”
“Lukewarm?” Lily said, trying to shut out a vision of her son convulsing. A possibility that had been scaring her to no end.
“That’s right.”
“But…won’t that heat him up even more?”
Geraldine raised her palms. “Sounded crazy to me too. But over and over, Doc Summers has shown me it works best. If the water’s too cold, it causes the shakes and that fever could bounce back even worse.”
“Still, though,” Lily said, “the nurse on the phone—”
“Miss Palmer, if you want your little boy to get better, you need to trust me. I promise I can help.”
Lily broke from Geraldine’s gaze to behold her son. He was suddenly so small and frail, defenseless as a newborn. She glanced at her mother, in search of guidance, wishing her father were here.
Even so, no matter their views, Samuel had only one mother. In the end, it was up to Lily to make the choice.
“I’ll run the water,” she said.
• • •
The next hour passed like years, and mere seconds.
Samuel’s temperature gradually lowered to match the bath water and the redness of his skin receded, lightening to the color of peaches. Relief streamed through the home as Ellis carried the boy, dried and swathed in a towel, back to his room. For Lily, that feeling became a tide when Ellis beamed while laying her son down, saying, “Hey, you rascal. Welcome back.”
Samuel’s eyes had opened.
Lily rushed to kneel at his bedside. He appeared to seek clarity as she stroked his cheek.
“Mommy,” he said groggily.
“Hi, sugar bug. We sure have missed you.”
Puzzlement crossed his sweet face. “Where’d…I go?”
Lily could barely contain the elation bursting inside of her. Based on the wide smiles around the room, she wasn’t the only one.
She kissed his forehead, his button nose. She held his hand, now savoring the normalcy of its feel.
At last, giving her mother a chance to ogle, Lily rose to move aside. Halfway up, her mind went dizzy and her vision grayed. A grip on her arm, her waist—from Ellis—kept her from falling.
“I’ve got you,” he assured her as the haze thinned.
“She hasn’t had a thing to eat or drink in days,” her mother said.
“I’ll be fine.” Lily’s balance was returning.
“Mr. Reed, would you take her to the kitchen, please? There’s plenty of food to be had.” Heading off an objection from Lily, she said, “Window’s open in there. You could use the fresh air, Lillian.” The captain had officially reassumed her role. “We’ll keep close tabs on Samuel.”
It went without saying that his temperature could rise again, the very reason they hadn’t drained the tub. But Lily’s mother was also helping now by slipping ice chips into his mouth.
Everything would be all right.
Because of Geraldine.
“Thank you,” Lily said to her, the two words ridiculously inept. Geraldine smiled all the same and settled on the chair beside the bed. Humming a lullaby to Samuel—“Daisy Bell,” from the sound of it—she wrung out the cloth in a bowl of fresh water.
The notes soothed Lily just enough to back away, and she followed Ellis to the kitchen, where he went to the counter and sifted through the bread box. He spoke kindly without turning. “Pastrami and Swiss on rye, I’m guessing.”
Yes. It was her favorite. But she couldn’t find her voice.
All the relief that had shoved out her fears had suddenly drained away, leaving her empty, barren of strength. She slid downward against the paneled wall until seated on the linoleum. The sounds of cupboard doors opening and closing, of drawers sliding out and in, came to a halt. Ellis’s voice was distant, not registering, until he lowered to sit beside her.
“Your son’s gonna be okay, Lily. He is.” When he gently clasped her hand, tears surged through the shell of her, filling every cavity, pooling behind her