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It was supposed to be a peaceful day off.
Zeke and Ollie were handling things at the restaurant– not his dad’s place anymore; it hadn’t been in a few years– and he didn’t need to help Gene with the troupe, either, because they’d had to postpone the show until flu season was done wiping out half of their elementary-aged cast.
But the second his daughter coughed and sneezed, Jimmy Jr. knew that peaceful wouldn’t be the end result of his afternoon off.
Bailey was fussy and squirmy as he changed her diaper. Once he had her cleaned up and in a fresh diaper, Jimmy Jr. settled her on his hip and carried her to the bathroom.
He grabbed the thermometer out of the medicine cabinet and turned it on. He touched it to her forehead and waited a few seconds. It let out a beep, the screen illuminating with a big, bold 102.
“Uh oh.” Sighing, he set the thermometer down. The first time Bailey had gotten sick, they’d rushed her to the pediatrician. Instead of scrambling for his car keys, Jimmy Jr. unlocked his phone and tapped on the contact name for the pediatrician’s office.
The line rang a couple of times before the receptionist picked up. “Bay Pediatrics.”
“I don’t know if you have any appointments, but my daughter’s sick. Bailey Morrison.”
“How old is she?”
“Seven months.”
The receptionist put him on a hold for a while. It felt like half an hour, but a glance at his phone told him it had only been ten minutes by the time he quit pacing across the nursery, took Bailey to the living room, and situated her on her play mat with a rattle, which she flung across the room instead of shaking.
Bailey started fussing again, holding her hands up to be held again. That shouldn’t have surprised him– she was clingier than usual when she was sick— so he scooped her back up and sat down on the couch.
Another eight minutes of hold music passed before he was finally patched through to Bailey’s pediatrician. It was hard to hear with Bailey crying in his arms, but he could make out what the doctor was saying as he tried to keep his daughter semi-calm.
There weren’t any open appointments for the rest of the day since it was peak sick kid season, but the doctor asked him a few questions, suggested that they were probably dealing with the flu, and advised him to keep Bailey at home unless her fever spiked or didn’t lower by morning.
She told him he didn’t absolutely need to medicate her, which was a relief because the one time Bailey had needed medicine, most of it had wound up in his and Will’s hair before they finally coaxed her into taking it. She followed up by assuring him it was fine to give her a dose of infant’s ibuprofen or Tylenol if they wanted her to be more comfortable, but he decided to save that for later.
“Okay,” he addressed Bailey once he hung up. “Dr. Murdock said you probably have the flu, so… that’s not good. But you don’t need to go to the doctor, which is good,” he explained, rambling on as if the seven-month-old had the slightest comprehension of what he was saying.
Bailey continued to fuss, her face pinched as she cried. One thing her doctor had mentioned was to try to get her to eat, so he picked her up and carried her to the kitchen.
“Let’s try eating something.” He set her down in her high chair and grabbed a can of baby food– mashed sweet potatoes— and a spoon. Dipping the spoon into it, he held a small amount to her lips.
Normally Bailey ate well, but she sealed her lips shut and turned her head away from the spoon.
“C’mon, Bay, it’s sweet potatoes. You like those. Mm….” he urged, gently nudging her lips with the spoon and pushing some of the baby food into her mouth.
Bad idea.
She sputtered hard, getting the orange goop– now with her flu slobber in it— all over his face. Wincing, he reached up to wipe a glob of sweet potato gunk off of his forehead before it could plop into his eye.
“Yuck.” He tried to coax her into another spoonful, but she still refused. Giving up, he put the lid back on the jar and put it in the fridge to try later. Bailey was fussing in her high chair, but he took a couple of minutes to rinse the baby food out of his hair and off of his face.
By the time he got back to the kitchen, Bailey was fussing loudly, not crying yet but on the verge of it.
“Hang on, hang on…” He still needed to call Will to let him know what was going on, undoubtedly sending his husband into sheer panic and terror, but that could wait until Bailey wasn’t screaming her head off. “Let’s try a bottle instead.”
He mixed up a small amount of formula, filled a bottle, and held it to her mouth. To his relief, she latched on and started sucking, grabbing the bottle in both of her tiny fists.
“Thank god.”
Maybe he should have slipped a dose of that infant’s Motrin into the bottle while he had a chance so they wouldn’t have to go through the battle all over again later.
He pushed that thought aside and took the opportunity to clean up Bailey’s messy tray. Bailey sucked on the bottle for a few more minutes before she let go of it, dropping it in the floor with a thud.
Jimmy Jr, grabbed it before it could roll under the fridge. She’d drank most of it, which eased some of his stress. They would try more later. Freeing her from her crib, he took her back to the nursery. He stripped her of her soiled onesie, dressed her in a clean one, and offered her a bright pink pacifier to settle her down.
Bailey grunted but pursed her lips around the pacifier, stretching her tiny body as she yawned. She was blinking tiredly but fighting sleep, undoubtedly because of how she felt. He turned on her mobile because the soft music always seemed to lure her to sleep, and to his relief, it worked— for now.
He and Will must have had some weird kind of telepathy, because he was just about to pick up his phone to give Will a call when he heard keys in the door. Normally Will closed up the shop at five-thirty, but it was only a couple of minutes past four. Setting his phone down, Jimmy Jr. gave his husband a surprised glance as the blonde man let himself into the condo.
“You’re home early. Did you close up?”
Will shook his head as he unzipped his jacket and tossed it haphazardly onto the coat hook by the door. “Nah, I put someone on closing. I dipped out early.”
“What’s the occasion?” Jimmy Jr. asked, but once he took a closer look at the taller man, he didn’t need an answer– Will’s pale face and flushed cheeks told him all he needed to know— “You’re sick.”
“Just a little.”
Jimmy Jr. reached up and touched the back of his hand to Will’s forehead. He frowned at the warmth against his skin. “You’re burning up!”
“I’m actually freezing, thank you very much.” Will sat down on the couch and grabbed the blanket from the back of it, wrapping it around his shoulders.
“Hang on.” Jimmy Jr. left the room long enough to get the thermometer out of the bathroom. Sitting beside Will, he touched it to the blonde’s forehead “103.5. Jesus. You were at work all day like this?”
“No. I felt fine earlier, just tired. Then I felt like a truck hit me about an hour ago. I was gonna tough it out until closing, but then your brother threatened to tell on me if I didn’t go home early.”
“Huh?”
“Andy stopped by for a donut and a coffee. He said he’d tell you I was ‘being stubborn,’ so I left.”
Mildly amused, Jimmy Jr. rolled his eyes. “You probably have the flu. I was gonna call you, but Bailey has it.” He gave the news fast, like ripping off a Band-aid.
“What?” Will sat up straighter, frowning as his eyes widened with panic, his eyebrows nearly shooting up to his hairline. “Did you take her to the doctor?”
“No, I called. Dr. Murdock said to keep her at home unless her fever goes up or doesn’t drop by tomorrow. She said medicine was optional, but we can give it to her if we feel like she’s not comfortable or needs help sleeping. She’s napping now.”
“But she’s okay? Mostly okay? We don’t need to go to the emergency room?”
“Yes, she’s fine,” Jimmy Jr. assured him, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He loved his husband dearly, but the man responded to almost every baby ailment like it was of catastrophic magnitude. “No need to call 911 like last time.”
“Hey, last time, she had a 103 temp and an ear infection.”
“Which we didn’t need the paramedics for.”
“I beg to differ,” Will sassed, but it was hard for him to sound snarky with the congestion affecting his voice.
“Beg all you want.” Unable to resist, Jimmy Jr. grinned and reached over to tousle his husband’s disheveled blonde locks. “I’m getting you something to drink. You need to stay hydrated.”
“Aren’t you sweet?” Yawning, Will leaned back on the couch as he wrapped the fleece blanket tighter around himself.
Jimmy Jr. grabbed a water bottle from the cabinet, opting for an insulated one so it would stay cool— how many damn water bottles did they freaking need, by the way? Will seemed to take a different one to the gym every day— and filled it with water and some ice cubes.
By the time he got back to the couch, Will had curled up on his side, the blanket pulled up to his ears and a throw pillow tucked under his head. For someone so tall, he could surely make himself compact when the time called for it.
“Here. Drink some of it,” Jimmy Jr. instructed, handing Will the bottle and sitting beside him.
“You’re bossy,” Will griped, but he obliged, taking the bottle and sipping on it. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Jimmy Jr. sat on the couch. He plucked the pillow out of Will’s hands, but Will only had a moment to look offended. He eased his husband’s head into his lap and raked his fingers through his hair.
“You’re gonna get sick,” Will cautioned through a contented groan as Jimmy Jr.’s fingers rubbed his temple.
“Probably. But Bailey already spit baby food in my face, so if I don’t get sick from that, nothing’s infecting me. There’s not really a point in isolating from you now.”
“If you say so.”
Jimmy Jr. turned on a movie to keep them entertained, lowering the volume so it wouldn’t wake Bailey up. She was usually a heavy sleeper for a baby, but as hard as she was to put down when she was sick, he wasn’t taking chances.
Will wound up dozing off twenty minutes into the movie. Bailey hadn’t made a peep other than the little snores they heard coming through the baby monitor— those sounds were adorable— so all seemed to be going as well as it possibly could.
Around dinner time, Jimmy Jr. scooted out from under Will’s sleeping head and made his way to the kitchen. He was no chef, but he could make simple dishes without it turning into unmitigated disaster, no matter what Zeke and his brothers and Will all said.
He opened a can of soup and poured it into a saucepan, bringing it to a simmer. It wasn’t the same as the homemade soup Will made with his grandma’s recipe, but it would be fine for now. He poured two bowls and carefully carried them to the living room, setting them on the coffee table.
“Wake up and try to eat something.” He gently shook Will’s shoulder.
Will grunted and turned away from him. “I’m sleeping.”
“Sleeping people don’t argue,” he chastised. “I’ll yank your blanket off.”
One blue eye popped open to glare at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wanna bet?” the redhead quipped, shoving a spoon into Will’s palm.
“Not really.” Groaning, Will opened his eyes fully and sat up, never losing the blanket. “I need to invest in a Snuggie.”
“You do that after you try to eat.” Jimmy Jr. sat down beside him, dunked a cracker into his broth, and ate it. It actually wasn’t that bad, nice and hot on a cold February evening.
Will ate with less gusto, taking small sips of the broth and eating a few bites of the noodles and crackers. He only ate of it, but he drank some more water, which was enough to appease Jimmy Jr..
Not long after Jimmy Jr. cleaned up their dishes, Bailey woke up from her nap. They could hear whimpering through the baby monitor, indicating that she was awake and on the verge of crying.
By the time he got to her, she was crying– mouth wide open and eyes squeezed shut.
“Shh…” He scooped her up and carried her to the living room. “Is the thermometer still in here? I wanna check her temperature again.”
“Right here.” Will grabbed the thermometer from the side table and handed it to him.
Jimmy Jr. checked Bailey’s temperature again. “Same as before. She might need that medicine.”
“Poor girl.”
“Yeah, she feels bad. Here, hold her while I get the medicine.” Plopping Bailey into Will’s lap— they both had the same thing, so it’s not like they could infect each other worse– he left the room.
He opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for what felt like the umpteenth time that day. There was a bottle of infant’s Motrin and a box of adult’s cold and flu medicine, leftover from a bug he’d had right before Christmas. He grabbed both items and returned to the living room.
Will was gently bouncing Bailey, who was still whimpering but no longer crying. “Find it?”
“Yep. I don’t know if she’ll take it, but we’re gonna try.” He measured a dose with the tiny dropper and held it to Bailey’s lips. “C’mon, Bailey girl…”
Bailey tightened her lips and blew, splattering him with slobber for the second time that day.
He was definitely getting the flu now.
Wiping a hand across his face, Jimmy Jr sighed. He tried again, but Bailey still refused to open her lips to let the dropper in. Will tried, too, both of them making noises hoping she’d giggle and open her mouth, but Bailey kept her mouth clenched shut.
“Look, Dada’s taking some.” Jimmy Jr. shoved the dropper into Will’s unexpecting mouth and squeezed it. He gave Will a sharp look to play along.
“Mm.” Gulping, Will forced a smile. “That ‘berry’ flavor really hides the medicine taste,” he cooed as Jimmy Jr. refilled the dropper. “And I feel cured. Mmm…”
For whatever reason, it worked. Bailey parted her lips for the medicine, making a face as she swallowed.
Will and Jimmy Jr. both drew in a breath, holding it for a few seconds as they waited for the very probable spewing of brightly colored medicine. But it didn’t happen, so they sighed in relief.
“Good girl.” Will patted Bailey’s back. He picked up the adult medicine box and took out the contents. “I hate these stupid foil packages. How do they expect sick people to break pills out of these? It’s like trying to break through a steel wall.”
“I think that’s a little dramatic,” the other man snorted. He took the package and popped the medicine out of the packet, handing the two tablets to his husband.
“Is it safe to take this after you force fed me Bailey’s medicine?”
“That was half a baby’s dose by the time we spilled some of it. Your giant body would need the entire bottle to be in danger, and even then, you’d probably be okay.”
Will glared at him as he swallowed his medicine with a swig of water. “Is that your official medical opinion, Dr. J?” he asked, leaning back on the couch with Bailey lying on his lap.
“Yeah. It is.” Jimmy Jr. plopped down beside him and wrapped an arm around him. Will curled into him, resting his head on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“Still like crap.” Closing his eyes, the blonde buried his face in the shorter man’s shoulder, keeping one hand on Bailey so she wouldn’t roll off his lap.
“Sorry.” He kissed Will’s head and buried his fingers in his thick hair. “Just so you know, you’re gonna have to repay this favor in a couple of days. Calling it now.”
“I’ll do it.”