Chapter Text
It was a Thursday morning, around 11am, to be specific. Quite chilly, considering it was a Minnesota fall. Mike was working his part-time job as a barista, clocking in and putting on his apron. The aroma of coffee filled the air, much different than the musty smell of Freddy’s. Freddy’s was always in the back of his mind, though lesser as time passed. His new job was at a local café had good hours (11am to 5pm), sick leave, and 50% off all drinks & pastries. He even had weekends off. He worked occasional odd jobs, and the government gave money to help with extra finances regarding Abby. Vanessa looked after Abby in the two hours between school ending and work ending.
“Welcome to Ginger’s, what can I get you?” He asked, putting on his best friendly persona. Customer service was never his specialty, but he tried.
“Yeah, I’d like a large caramel iced latte with 2 pumps of vanilla, 5 pumps of pumpkin spice, 1 pump of mocha, 4 pumps of cherry, 3 pumps of mint, add extra ice, but not too much to make it too cold or watered-down, can you make it a frappe, add those crunchy things, whipped cream, chocolate syrup and cinnamon. And make it snappy.” A short, middle-aged woman asked, Stanley cup in hand.
That sounds atrocious and extremely complicated, He thought, trying to keep up with each flavor and request. “Okay, can I get a name for your order?” Karen? he added in his mind.
“Abby Gail Marie Rose.”
Thinking of his sister, he rung her up quickly and gave the order to his co-worker. The rest of the hour passed by quickly and his first break arrived at 12:30pm.
In the break room, he got some water and rested his eyes, trying to block out any thoughts. His phone buzzed at his side aggressively. It was Abby’s school, and thinking it could be a positive call, or a award he’d have to sign or show up for, he answered.
“Is this Mike Schmidt, legal guardian of Abby Schmidt?” A tired voice said from the phone.
“Yes.”
She sighed heavily into the speaker. “This is Abby’s school, you need to pick her up.”
“Oh, uh okay? Why?”
“She’s got a fever of 101, and fell asleep in her second class. She reports being achy, having a runny nose and a cough, a sore throat, and a headache.” Papers rustled around. “Right now she’s with the nurse. Nurse says it’s the flu.”
Panic flashed in his mind. He stood up from his chair, getting his jacket. “I’ll be right there.”
He was lucky his boss was so understanding and had someone else cover his shift for the next two days. He hurried out of the employee entrance, and to his car. The 10 minute drive there was tense, his mind racing about how to care for Abby. She wasn’t a sickly child, so he’d never really had to deal with anything besides the occasional cold or stomach bug. If anything, he’d been sick more times while Abby was under his care than Abby had been sick in her entire life. She must have picked it up from a kid at school.
Pulling up to the school, he hid his internal panic as he walked into the entrance, explaining the situation and giving his driver’s license. They said she would be out soon. Two minutes later, a flushed, yet pale Abby came through the glass doors.
“Hi…Mike-“ She mumbled, giving her best attempt at a smile. She wore her red overalls, sweater underneath that she had worn that morning. While he had noticed her uncharacteristic behavior that morning, she brushed it off.
“Hi, let’s get you home.” He said, guiding her outside. Heat radiated off of her back.
In the back seat, she hugged her backpack to her chest, sleepily looking out the window. They arrived home shortly and Mike called Vanessa as soon as he got into the door.
“Hey. What’s up?”
“Abby. I had to leave early for work because the school called. She has the flu, and I don’t know how to take care of her.“
“I’ll be right there. Have her in bed, take her temperature, and wait for me.” She hung up.
He put the phone down. “Abs, can you pretend that you’re going to bed? I know that it’s the middle of the day.”
She sleepily nodded and headed to her room. Mike searched for the thermometer in the kitchen and bathroom. It was in a tucked away corner of the medicine cabinet. When he entered her room, she was under her quilt, clinging to it as if her life depended on it. He explained the thermometer to her, asking to put it under her tongue. It beeped after 30 seconds.
“102, Abs. That’s quite a fever” Mike frowned. Shit, it’s gone up.
“M’ cold…” She moaned, curling into a tighter ball.
Through the movement of the quilt, he noticed she hadn’t changed into pajamas and was still in her overalls. Deciding not to say anything, he sat at the foot of the bed. The silence forced him to think. Think about how his life had changed in the past months. With Aunt Jane dead, he had full custody of Abby. He started going to group therapy sessions, and Abby used her art to process her emotions as she always did. With extra money he earned from odd jobs, he had re-painted some walls in the house, and got some new appliances, and just overall made the house brighter. He always thought how lucky he was to survive Freddy’s. Where would Abby be if he hadn’t? An orphanage?
There was a quiet knock at the door. At the door was Vanessa. Her medical leave ended in December, so she was in casual, non-uniform clothes. She had healed from her stab wound and coma, but was still recovering.
“I got some things. What’s her temperature?” She invited herself into the house, setting a Walgreen’s plastic bag on an end table.
“102. Before it was 101, but between the school and here, it went up.”
“Oh, that’s not great.” she responded, taking things out of the bag. “Ibuprofen, dosage for her age and weight is 2 tablets every 6 hours. I got chamomile tea, as I assume she has a sore throat. If she’s hungry, I got chicken soup. Chicken soup makes everything better. I’m also assuming you have water here.”
He thought it was kind of her to go out of her way to get things. “Thank you. She’s in her room now, sleeping. She’s pretty exhausted and delirious from fever.”
They both went down the hall to her room. She was in the same place as he left her, in bed, curled in a tight ball. Vanessa woke her up and helped to a sitting position. Her cheeks were a deep pink in color, her deep brown eyes tired.
“…Vanessa? But it’s not 3pm yet-” She mumbled, blinking awake. Every word she was saying seemed to take liters of energy from her.
“No, but I’m still here to help look after you. You’re sick.”
He leaned on the doorframe, watching carefully. Vanessa pulled up a stool at the side of her bed.
She shivered under the quilt. “Is…that why I don’t feel well?” Abby mumbled. Her small body slumped back down again, quivering.
“The school nurse said you have the flu, Abs.”
“It’s that season, after all.” Vanessa chipped in. “I got some things for you. Are you hungry?” Abby nodded.
Mike took that as his cue to head to the kitchen to start on the soup. Turning on the burner, and opening the can, he calculated how much time it would take to finish cooking. About 8 minutes. The soup was thin and easily poured out, the pieces of chicken, noodles, and vegetables plopping in after. As it was heating up, he got three bowls from a cabinet. Vanessa came in and searched each cabinet and drawer.
She stopped. “Where’s your kettle?”
“I don’t have one.”
“No kettle? Don’t you make tea, ever? Or just boil water?”
He pointed to the pot he was using to heat up the soup. She chuckled. Getting a measuring cup, she filled it with tap water and put it in the microwave. The steam coming from the pot told him that it was ready. He ladled it into the bowls, adding spoons to each. The microwave beeped. The two adults shuffled around the tiny kitchen, occasionally bumping into each other. Mike got a tray out and placed the bowls on it. Vanessa added two mugs of tea. He carried it to Abby’s room.
“We made lunch, Abs.” Mike exclaimed, setting the tray on her nightstand and helping her back to a sitting position. She gave a weak smile, as if to thank them. He sat at the end of the bed, eating from his bowl.
Vanessa sat on the stool like before. “Do you want me to feed it to you?” She asked. Abby shook her head no, reaching for a bowl.
They ate together in comfortable silence. Mike finished his soup first, placing it on the try. Vanessa put her empty bowl next to his. Abby ate hers slowly, the action of holding the spoon seemed to exhaust her. She sipped cautiously from the mug, since it shook in her grasp. Mike cleared the dishes and took the tray away. Vanessa opened the Ibuprofen cap, making note of the time. 1:21 pm. She explained that the pill was a chewable and she needed to take two. After, she left the room to let her sleep.
“Ibuprofen taken, now she needs to rest.”
“You said every 6 hours? At 7pm, okay. Well, thanks for your help. I can call if-”
She interrupted him. “No calling necessary. I’m staying.”
—
It was around 8pm now. Mike and Vanessa had spent the rest of the afternoon disinfecting and tidying around the house. Later, Vanessa drove over to her apartment to get some clothes for herself, and to pick up some takeout for the two of them. After their meal, they chatted about random things like Mike’s new job, and how Vanessa picked up baking in her spare time. They now were watching TV, Mike in his armchair and Vanessa sprawled out on the couch. Abby had already taken her next dosage of tablets.
There was a rustle of carpet behind them. Abby was shuffling to the bathroom. At first they didn’t move, thinking she was just using the bathroom. Then, the sound of violent retching came.
“I think it would be better if you went if there.” Vanessa volunteered Mike.
He mumbled in agreement and speed-walked over. When he came through the door, his face filled with sympathy. His nine-year-old sister (still in her overalls, mind you) clutching on the toilet seat as she threw up her guts. Breakfast and lunch gone. He pulled her hair from her face and rubbed her back, trying to provide any ounce of comfort. Her body radiated unnatural heat, and she leaned into his touch.
“M-…I going to die…?” She struggled to say.
He nearly teared up at that sentence. “N-no.”
She continued coughing up the last of her stomach contents, beginning to cry. Sobs racked her small body, and she dry heaved. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the contents. She heaved for the final time, resting her head on the seat. Tears dropped into the bowl with a plop. He sat with her for a little longer, hand rubbing her back, and arms wrapped around her. He reached a free hand to her forehead, realizing it was much warmer than it had been hours ago. She suddenly sat up.
“W-wait, I have…to go to school tomorrow!” she panicked. “I need to do homework! Need to…” Her energy seemed to run out and she fell against the sink countertop.
“You’re going nowhere tomorrow. You’re not well, Abs.”
“O…oh.”
“You’re going to get changed, you’re going to rest. That’s it.”
He got off the floor. Flushing the toilet and washing his hands, he heard her shuffle back to her room and close the door. He knocked after cleaning up the bathroom. A weak Come in came from the other side. She was under the covers, back turned. He tucked the covers around her and turned on her nightlight. Gently shutting the door, he headed back to the living room. Vanessa was under a blanket was buried by pillows, snoring softly.
The rest of the night was quiet, and Mike went to his own bed around 10pm.