In Sickness and In Health

Chapter 3

Bree's POV:

Daddy straps me into my car seat. I see Patrick doing the same. He looks at me and smiles just a little bit, but I don't feel like smiling. My Dada's got a boo-boo. I don't like that. I want him to come home with us, but he has to stay with Unca John. He says he has to get a doctor to look at his boo-boo. We're going home without him.

I didn't see a boo-boo, but he told me there was one. He seemed a little bit scared and that scared me too. Maybe Dada's really sick. He better not be. I need him, and Daddy needs him … at home … now.

I watch Daddy and Unca Bobby get into the front of the SUV. I wish my Dada was sitting there with Daddy. I love Unca Bobby, but he's not the same as having Dada there. I want Dada to tell me I look fabulous and make jokes and raise his eyebrow and hold me tight. I want my Dada.

I feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I'm not going to cry. Dada wants me to be a good girl and that means no crying. I have to look after Daddy. I promised Dada that I would.

Suddenly I feel Patrick's hand take hold of mine. I look over at him and I see that he's worried about my Dada. Maybe he's worried about me too, but I'm not going to cry. I hold his hand as tightly as I can when we're so far apart.

For quite a while we ride along like this. Patrick doesn't say anything, and after a while the tears start to go away. I give Patrick a little smile to let him know that I'm okay now. He smiles back.

Patrick's POV:

Bree is scared. I can feel it. She is trying not to cry, but that's what she wants to do. I know something bad is going on. My Poppa and Uncle Justin look really worried and upset. I wish I could do something, but I don't know what that would be.

I look over at Bree and she looks so little and so helpless. I can see tears in her eyes but she's fighting them. I'll talk to her when we get home. But I need to do something now. I lean over and stretch as far as the belt will let me. I know I'm not supposed to undo it. Finally with a big effort I can reach Bree's hand. She feels me touch her and I stare into her blue eyes. I try to tell her silently that it will be all right, that I'll look after her until her Dada comes home.

We ride along in silence, my hand over hers. She holds it tightly. After a long time she looks at me, and I see that the tears are no longer in her eyes. That doesn't mean that she isn't worried though. Finally she smiles, a tiny little smile, but it makes me feel better.

Bree's POV:

We continue along the road to home. I recognize the places that we go by. There's a farm that has this very high round building. Daddy says it's called a silo and you store grain in it. I'm not exactly sure what grain is, but the building is neat. None of the cattle are outside. I guess it's too cold. There's a little town that we go through and a store that has those things you put on your lawn in the summer and their legs go really fast in the wind. Dada said I could get one for the playhouse next summer. Right now there's a couple still outside but they're not moving, even though I can hear the wind outside the car. Maybe they're frozen. Everything's so white and quiet.

I'm feeling a little better. Patrick's still holding my hand and I like that. He didn't say anything to me and that's good. I might have cried if he had asked me what was wrong. Patrick's really smart about things like that. I'm glad he's here with me now.

Patrick's POV:

Bree seems better. I don't think she's going to start crying. I'll hold onto her hand anyway, just in case.

I look up at Poppa who's driving. He's not saying anything either. Maybe he's afraid Uncle Justin will cry if he asks him if he's all right. Bree's a lot like her Daddy. I hope they'll both be fine when we get home. I'll do my best to help Bree.

Bree's POV:

I watch my daddy staring out the front window of the car. He doesn't move. His jaw is very stiff. I think he's got his teeth locked together. That's what I've been doing. It helps me not to cry. Maybe my daddy wants to cry too. That's not good. Dada said he had a boo-boo, but that he would be home soon. Daddy shouldn't cry if that's what's going to happen. Maybe something is very bad though. Maybe my Dada is very sick.

I let out a little whimper. I can't help myself. Patrick squeezes my hand. That helps a bit.

My daddy doesn't even turn around to see what's the matter with me. Now I know something is very wrong.

I think I'm going to cry, but then Unca Bobby turns into the lane and we're almost home. I won't cry. I won't cry. I have to help my daddy. He wipes at his face, sniffing like his nose is going to run.

"Daddy," I say. I want to comfort him.

There is no answer.

Unca Bobby looks at Daddy and then turns back to look at me. "Bree," he says with this funny look on his face. "Can you wait till we get in the house?"

I nod and stare at my daddy until Unca Bobby stops the car in front of the house.

Patrick's POV:

Poppa stops the car and we all just sit there for a couple of minutes. I'm still holding Bree's hand. I know she doesn't want me to let go of it. She's staring at her daddy with this sad look on her face. I squeeze her hand.

Poppa reaches over and squeezes Uncle Justin's shoulder. "Justin, we're home," he says in a real soft voice.

"Okay," Uncle Justin replies, but he doesn't move.

I wait. I'm still holding Bree's hand.

"Daddy!" Bree says forcefully. "Daddy, peepee."

Uncle Justin turns and looks at her. At first I don't think he's going to move. Finally he unhooks his seatbelt. Like one of those zombies in a scary movie he starts to get out of the car. While he walks around to Bree's side, Poppa comes to my side and lets me out. Then he goes to the back of the SUV to take out the luggage we brought back with us.

I go around to Bree's side of the car. Uncle Justin has unbuckled Bree, but when he picks her up, he just stands there holding her. He just keeps standing there, not moving.

Suddenly Beau comes bounding across the field from Auntie Rachel's. He's running full out once he hits the driveway. I find myself flat on my back in the snow as he licks all over my face. I can't help but giggle and scratch his neck before trying to push him away. I can tell he's glad to see me and I'm glad to see him. This is the best I've felt since before we left for home. Finally I push Beau away.

When I stand up, I see Beau watching Uncle Justin and Bree. They haven't moved. Beau looks like he wants to jump on them too but he doesn't. Maybe he knows something is wrong.

"It's cold, Uncle Justin," I say. "We should go inside."

"Yeah … yeah," Uncle Justin mutters as he sets Bree down. I take her hand and lead her towards the front door that Poppa now has open.

Beau follows along beside us, not touching Bree but walking close to her. She doesn't pay him any attention. She's looking back at her father. "Come on, Daddy. It's cold."

"In a minute, sweetheart," he replies. He stares up at the grey sky.

I pull on Bree's hand to get her to come inside. She comes with me, but I know she's really still outside with her father, and also back in Pittsburgh with her other father. She starts unbuttoning her coat.

Poppa comes into the front hall. He's going out for another load of stuff from the car.

"You okay?" he asks as he goes by.

"Yes, Poppa."

I strip off my own coat and boots. Bree is almost done hers. When she is, she goes to the open door and calls, "Daddy!"

Uncle Justin doesn't move and he doesn't answer her.

I take her hand. "Come on, Bree. If you need to go peepee, we should do that."

"I can do it myself," she declares. "I want my Daddy."

"You go to the bathroom and I'll get him," I promise.

She looks torn as to what to do. Finally she has to go potty so bad that she runs down the hall. I go over to the door as Poppa comes back in with some more bags.

"Uncle Justin!" I call. "Bree needs you." I hope that will get him to come inside.

"Good," Poppa tells me as he goes by. He wants Uncle Justin to come in out of the cold too.

I can hear Poppa moving around with luggage and maybe turning up the furnace. I wish he could do something about Uncle Justin, but he doesn't seem to know what to do any better than I do. I'm really getting worried about Uncle Justin. Then he turns around and looks at me. I see that he recognizes me.

"Uncle Justin, Bree needs you," I repeat.

He stares at me for a moment. Then he's moving towards the house. That's good. He'll come in out of the cold.

Bree's POV:

After I go peepee, I wash my hands and then run down the hall to the front door. Daddy's walking towards the door. He should have come in a long time ago. Finally he comes through the door and Patrick pushes it closed behind him.

"Daddy," I say.

He looks at me, maybe for the first time since we left Dada. "Come here, sweetheart," he says.

I run into his arms and he scoops me up, crushing me against his chest and burying his face in my hair. I can feel the silent sobs that make his body shake. I let myself cry too … just a little bit.

Patrick's POV:

I watch Uncle Justin and Bree for a couple of minutes. I hear Poppa in the kitchen so I leave them in the hall and go to my father. Beau comes with me. Poppa smiles at me as I enter the kitchen.

"You okay, Little Red?" he asks.

"Yes, Poppa. I think they need some time alone."

"You're a very smart boy," Poppa tells me.

"What are you doing?" I ask with a smile.

"I'm making some sandwiches. I hope they'll want to eat a bit later."

"That's good, Poppa. Can I sleep in Bree's room tonight?"

Poppa smiles at me again. "If Bree wants you to, then that's fine." Beau goes behind the counter and nudges Poppa's leg. "Hey you!" Poppa laughs. "I'll get your food in a minute. Be patient."

Beau is a good dog. He comes back to me and sits beside where I'm standing. I pet his soft fur. It's nice to have something normal to do.

"Do you know what's wrong with Uncle Brian?" I have to ask after a minute.

Poppa shakes his head. "Nobody knows at this point," he says honestly.

"Do you think it's bad?" I ask, hoping he'll tell me it's probably nothing.

Poppa doesn't lie to me. "I don't know, Little Red. It could be, but we'll pray that it's not."

"I'll pray really hard," I promise.

"Good boy."

Bree's POV:

Daddy holds me and I think he'll never let me go. I don't want him to let me go, but I wish Dada was here to hold onto both of us. Daddy isn't shaking anymore, and that's a good thing. It scares me when he cries. I think Dada must be really sick. I have to ask.

"Is Dada going to be all right?"

"I sure hope so, sweetheart," Daddy says slowly.

"Why didn't he come home with us?"

"He needs to see a doctor."

"There are doctors here," I say reasonably. My daddies take me to a doctor in Harrisburg. Dada could go there.

"It's a special doctor that he needs to see," Daddy says with a sigh.

"He's really sick, isn't he, Daddy?" I ask. I'm afraid of the answer but I need to know.

"We don't know yet, but he might be."

"No," I whimper. "I want my Dada."

"I want him too, sweetheart, but he has to see the doctor."

"It's not fair," I say. I don't know how else to say how I feel.

"Definitely not fair," Daddy whispers. "Let's put in a video. Maybe that will make us feel better."

"Don't want a video."

"Please, sweetheart." Daddy looks like he's ready to cry again.

"'Kay," I say, knowing that it will be easier for him if I'm out of the way watching a video.

"Which one?"

"Nemo."

"Nemo," Daddy repeats as he sets me down and goes to the TV.

"Justin, I made some sandwiches for you and Bree. They're in the fridge when you feel like having them," Unca Bobby tells us.

"You hungry?" Daddy asks me.

I shake my head. I don't want to eat. I don't want to watch the stupid video. I don't want to do anything except have Dada come home. I can't help myself.

"I want Dada!" I yell, before running down the hall and into my room. I slam the door and jump onto the bed. I pull Bunny out of my bag that's on the bed and hold him really tight. But Bunny doesn't feel as good as Dada. I lay down and let the tears run down my face.

Patrick's POV:

I hear Bree yelling at her Daddy. I know they are both upset. I wish there was something I could do, but I don't know what it might be.

My Poppa walks through the kitchen and looks in at Uncle Justin who is standing at the TV. He has the "Finding Nemo" DVD in his hand. He's staring at it like he doesn't know what to do with it. Poppa goes over to him and takes the DVD out of his hand.

"Justin, come into the kitchen and have a sandwich," he says gently.

"Not hungry," Uncle Justin tells him.

"Come on, Justin. You should eat something."

"I said I'm not hungry!" Uncle Justin yells. "I'm going to bed."

"But it's not time…"

"I said I'm going to bed," Uncle Justin repeats. He walks away from Poppa and heads for his bedroom. We both hear the door slam behind him.

Poppa sighs loudly. "Let's have one of those sandwiches," he says to me.

I nod. I'm not really hungry, but I don't know what else to do. Poppa hands me a plate with a sandwich on it, and I sit down at the kitchen table. He pours me a glass of juice. Beau sits down beside my chair and waits patiently.

"We should probably take these back to our own kitchen," he says. But then he drops down into a chair and stares at the sandwich.

"Uncle Brian's going to be all right," I say fiercely. "He's really strong."

"Yes, he is," Poppa agrees, smiling at me.

I take a big bite out of my sandwich. It's not bad, and I am hungry. I continue to eat the sandwich. Gradually Poppa does the same with his sandwich.

"Can I take a sandwich to Bree?" I ask when I'm done.

"Sure," Poppa says as he gets up and puts half a sandwich on a plate. He pours half a glass of juice. I take the plate and the glass and start down the hall. Beau looks at me waiting to see if he should follow.

"Come on, Beau," Poppa says. "We'll go over to our house and get you some dinner too."

"I'm going to stay with Bree," I call back to Poppa.

"She may not want you there."

"I'm staying with Bree." She has no choice.

"Okay," Poppa says. He knows it's the right thing to do.

I go down the hall to Bree's room. The door is closed, so I set the glass and plate down by the door. I turn the knob hoping that she hasn't locked the door. It opens and I shove it back. I pick up the plate and glass when she doesn't say anything. I walk inside.

"Bree," I say tentatively. "I brought you something to eat."

"Don't want nuffin," she sniffs.

I can tell she's been crying. I set the plate and the glass down on the little table by her bed.

"Bree, I want to stay with you," I say. She can have the food later.

"Go way," she replies.

"No, I'm staying." I get up on the bed with her. She's got her back to me. She won't look at me. I sit down beside her and touch her shoulder. She shakes my hand off, but I put it back. This time she leaves it there. "You okay?" I ask her.

She shakes her head but she turns over to look at me. "I want my Dada," she whispers.

"I know." She looks at me with the saddest eyes I've ever seen. "He'll be home in a few days," I tell her.

"What if he isn't? What if he's…"

"Don't say that. He'll be back. Uncle Brian is very strong."

"Yeah, he is," Bree agrees.

"I'm going to stay with you until he comes home," I promise.

"Thank you," she whispers.

I lie down beside her and place my hand over hers. I hear her give a little whimper but she leaves her hand there. I see her holding onto Bunny with her other hand. We stay like that for a long time until she falls asleep. Just after Bree falls asleep Beau creeps into the room and flops down beside the bed. I reach over and give him a pat. He nuzzles my hand. Then I sleep too.

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