Chapter 2: The Fever My Mother Tried to Hide
The second floor felt strangely quiet.
The laughter from the backyard faded with every step I took.
My mother's voice echoed behind me.
"Colin, wait."
"I was just about to check on him."
I didn't answer.
My heartbeat was louder than her footsteps.
When I reached Jamie's bedroom, the door was almost closed.
A tiny stuffed elephant lay on the floor outside.
It was the one I had won for him at the county fair before he was born.
I pushed the door open.
The room was dim.
The curtains were drawn tight.
The air felt hot.
Too hot.
Jamie lay in his crib.
His little cheeks were bright red.
His blond curls were soaked with sweat.
His breathing was shallow.
His favorite blanket had been kicked to the corner of the mattress.
"Daddy's here, buddy."
I gently touched his forehead.
My heart sank.
He was burning up.
"Oh, my God."
I picked him up carefully.
His tiny body felt limp against my chest.
His eyes opened halfway.
He let out a weak whimper.
Not even enough strength to cry.
"Jamie."
I looked around the room.
There was no thermometer.
No bottle of infant medicine.
No humidifier.
Nothing.
Only an empty baby bottle sitting on the dresser.
It smelled sour.
Like spoiled milk.
Footsteps stopped behind me.
My mother folded her arms.
"It's just a little fever."
I stared at her.
"A little fever?"
"Kids get sick."
"It happens."
"Did you call his pediatrician?"
She hesitated.
"There wasn't any need."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"How long has he been like this?"
She looked away.
"Since yesterday."
My stomach twisted.
"Yesterday?"
"I didn't want to bother you while you were working."
"Bother me?"
"My son has had a fever for an entire day."
"You didn't think I should know?"
She sighed dramatically.
"You always overreact."
Before I could answer, Evelyn appeared quietly in the doorway.
She looked terrified.
She held a small bottle of children's fever medicine in her hands.
"It's empty."
Her voice barely carried across the room.
"I gave him the last dose this morning."
I looked at her.
"When did you buy this?"
She lowered her eyes.
"I didn't."
"What do you mean?"
"I asked your mother if we could buy another bottle yesterday."
Silence.
My mother crossed her arms tighter.
"I told her to wait."
I blinked.
"You told her to wait?"
"He didn't need more medicine."
Evelyn finally looked directly at me.
"I begged her."
My chest tightened.
"I even offered to drive to the pharmacy."
My mother's face hardened.
"I told her we weren't wasting money."
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
"Wasting money?"
Every month I sent thirty-five hundred dollars.
Where had it gone?
I looked around Jamie's room again.
His clothes were folded neatly.
But the dresser drawers were nearly empty.
Only a few onesies.
A handful of diapers.
No unopened formula.
No wipes.
No extra medicine.
Nothing.
This wasn't what thirty-five hundred dollars a month looked like.
This looked like survival.
I carried Jamie downstairs.
"I'll take him to the emergency clinic."
My mother stepped in front of me.
"That's unnecessary."
I didn't stop walking.
She grabbed my arm.
"Colin."
"You're embarrassing the family."
I slowly turned toward her.
"My son has a dangerously high fever."
"I don't care who's embarrassed."
Outside, laughter exploded from the backyard.
Someone yelled that dessert was ready.
Another relative asked where the birthday cake was.
Birthday cake.
I had one sitting untouched in the kitchen.
The cake I'd bought for Jamie.
Yet somehow twenty adults had been eating all afternoon...
While the birthday boy lay upstairs with a burning fever.
I looked through the back window.
My relatives filled every chair.
Paper plates overflowed with steak, ribs, burgers, potato salad, and expensive desserts.
Coolers packed with drinks sat beside the patio.
My cousin Derek laughed with a plate piled so high that food nearly spilled onto the grass.
Uncle Raymond carried another tray of grilled meat.
My Aunt Gloria waved for someone to refill her glass.
Not one person looked toward the house.
Not one person asked where Jamie was.
It suddenly hit me.
This wasn't my son's birthday party.
It was my mother's family reunion.
And I had unknowingly paid for every single bite.
Jamie let out another weak cry against my shoulder.
That tiny sound shattered whatever patience I had left.
I looked straight into my mother's eyes.
"Get everyone out of my house."
Her confident smile disappeared.
"What did you say?"
"You heard me."
"This party is over."
The backyard slowly grew quiet.
May you like
Because someone had opened the screen door.
And every single relative had just heard exactly what I said.
