Not Perfect(11)

She half jogged to her room, a little afraid of what she was going to find. Fern was sitting up, glassy eyed and flushed. Tabitha went to her, felt her head again. It was even hotter. She knew she should call the pediatrician, but she didn’t want to deal with the co-pay—the one that must be paid at the time of the visit. She got the thermometer and took Fern’s temperature. At least she isn’t throwing up anymore, Tabitha told herself, for now.

“Do you want a cold washcloth?” she asked, as they waited for the thermometer to beep.

Fern nodded. Her skin looked sweaty and her eyes kept shutting.

Finally they heard the beep-beep-beep. It read 103 degrees. Tabitha sighed with some relief. That was high, very high, but not emergency high. She fetched the cold washcloth and put it on Fern’s forehead. Then she pulled out her phone and texted Holly, a mother of a girl in Fern’s class at school who was an emergency room doctor at the local children’s hospital. She was one of the most generous people Tabitha knew, never seeming to mind if anyone with kids contacted her with a question or concern. Even so, they were just becoming friends, and she didn’t want to overstep anything. But really, what choice did she have?

Hi! It’s Tabitha! I am so sorry to bother you, but Fern has a high fever—103—and I just wondered, is there anything going around right now?

She pressed “send” and waited. If Holly was working, it could be a long time. But right away she saw the bubbles indicating a response.

Oh no! I’m so sorry to hear that. But yes, there’s a bug with a high fever, some vomiting. Not much to do but wait it out and keep her cool. A cool bath might help. Text if you need anything or if her fever goes up . . .

Tabitha texted back THANK YOU in all caps, and suddenly didn’t feel so alone. She ran a cool bath, making sure it wasn’t too cold, and eased Fern into it. She sat with her, reading When You Reach Me. They were loving the book, and Tabitha didn’t want to waste it when Fern wasn’t feeling well, but she perked up and listened. Tabitha heard her phone buzz, and she saw Holly had written again.

Keep her hydrated!

Tabitha nodded, like she was talking to Holly directly. When she got Fern out of the tub, into fresh pajamas, and watching television, she gave her a big glass of ice water, which Fern happily sipped. All was well for about two hours, until Levi didn’t come home.

At 3:20 she became aware that it was time for him to be leaving school and decided to wait until 4:00 to text him. At 3:55 she could barely sit still. It took only fifteen, maybe twenty, minutes to get home, so even if she was being generous, he should be home by now. She looked out their window overlooking the Square. She could see down and across but not much to the left, which was where he would most likely be coming from.

What’s your plan? she texted when she couldn’t stand it anymore. No response. She tried to locate him with the app on her phone again, but still nothing. She looked at Stuart’s face next to Levi’s but didn’t push on it. This, like so many other things, was not going to help her. She went to sit with Fern, who was much happier and much cooler. One crisis averted, another one just beginning. What was it that Rachel always said? That motherhood seemed like a very long game of Whac-A-Mole to her—that crazy game at the arcade where you had to keep whacking the moles to win. You just manage to control one and the next one pops up. Well, this certainly felt like that. She started to make a plan in her head. If he wasn’t home by 4:15 she’d start calling around. But really, whom would she call? If he wasn’t home by 4:30 she’d go looking for him. At 4:14 a text came in: at 7-11. A strange sound of relief started somewhere in her chest and escaped through her mouth. Fern looked at her but didn’t say anything. Then she looked around.

“Where’s Levi?” she asked.

“Seven-Eleven,” Tabitha said, getting up. She needed a minute to herself. She went into the bedroom and pushed the door closed, stopping just short of clicking it shut. She pulled out the notebook and wrote one of the two things that all along she had not wanted to write, but now felt she had to. It was the easier one to write—there was no question about it. In the end, she thought, it would probably prove to be the most important clue of all.

Item number eight: The threat.





CHAPTER FOUR

With all the commotion of the day, Tabitha forgot about the appointment with the rabbi, which was surprising since she had been dreading it so much. Her iPhone pinged to remind her just as she opened the door to let Levi into the apartment. It was now five o’clock, and the appointment was at five thirty. She was trying so hard to not be mad, to not blow up at him. How could you forget to text this morning? Didn’t you know how worried I would be, literally all day? How could you so casually go to 7-Eleven and not tell me? It was all simmering under the surface. But she did not plan to say any of it. Levi was suffering, too, she reminded herself. Also, he was okay, he was fine.

“What’s that?” he asked in a pleasant-enough tone, as he walked over the threshold and into the apartment. He smelled like the outside, sunshine, and city grit. She realized she hadn’t been out all day.

She glanced at her phone. Closed her eyes briefly.

“It’s a reminder that we have a meeting with Rabbi Rosen in half an hour,” she said through clenched teeth, the same teeth she had just willed to stay unclenched.

“No way,” Levi said matter-of-factly. “I’m not going. I have homework.”