Page 41 of Baby Perfection

He sighed. “Just do it, Angie. It’s only money.”

“Okay.” There was so much more she wanted to say to him. So much she didn’t dare. At least, not yet. “Mikey says I have to go now. Call me tomorrow?”

“I’ll try.” He hesitated, the words they both longed to speak hovering between them, hanging in the airwaves across the three thousand miles separating them. “Give our boy a hug from his… Aw, hell, from me. Good night, sweetheart.”

“Good night, Lucius.”

He couldn’t say it, Angie realized. He still couldn’t say the words he longed to. Give our boy a hug from his daddy.That’s what he’d meant, what was in his heart. She could only hope that he’d soon be able to say them aloud putting words to the emotions he still denied.

She crossed to Mikey’s bedroom and lifted him out of the crib. “Daddy says good-night, little guy. Is that why you’re fussing? Because he wasn’t here to tell you in person?”

Flipping on the overhead light, she carried him to the changing table. He blinked through his tears, his crying jag leaving his face red and blotchy. Or she assumed it was from the crying jag until she unsnapped his sleeper and saw that his face wasn’t the only part of him all red and blotchy. Panicky fear swept through her. Something was wrong. Seriously wrong.

Scooping him up, she made a beeline for the kitchen and the doctor’s emergency number listed on the sheet taped to the refrigerator. She punched in the number, filled with relief when her call received an immediate answer, even though itwas an answering service. The operator reassured her in a calm, soothing manner, promising the doctor would phone back within a minute or two. Sure enough, she’d no sooner hung up than the phone rang again.

“This is Dr. Graceland. Describe the symptoms,” the pediatrician requested briskly. He listened, then asked, “Is Mikey having difficulty breathing?”

“No, not that I’ve noticed.”

“Do you have a liquid antihistamine on hand, preferably dye-free?”

Holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder, she hurried to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, found an unopened box and scanned the information. “Yes. Yes, I have it and it says it’s dye-free.”

After verifying age and weight, the doctor said, “Give the baby one quarter teaspoon. Wait half an hour and call me if there’s no improvement. In the meantime, try a cool bath in case it’s a reaction to something he’s come into contact with physically, like pet hair or a new detergent. And make a list of everything he’s eaten the past twenty-four hours.”

“There’s nothing he hasn’t tried before,” she started to say. Then remembered Mikey’s grab for her cobbler. “Wait. He managed to get a handful of my cobbler at dinner.”

“That’s a possibility, particularly if it contained egg, dairy, nuts or wheat. Even more likely if one of his parents exhibited a similar allergy. Do you know of any allergies that run in the family?”

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “Both his parents are deceased.”

“Yes, of course. I remember now. Give him the antihistamine and if his symptoms don’t improve, call me back and I’ll meet you at the hospital. If they do improve, come into the office at eight and I’ll bump you to the front of the line.”

“Thank you, Dr. Graceland.”

The next half hour felt like forever. A dozen different times she reached for the phone to call Lucius, each time resisting the urge. There wasn’t anything he could do to help except worry. And he had enough to worry about without this. Besides, she could see an almost immediate improvement as soon as she administered the medication. It would have been a different story if she’d needed to rush the baby to the hospital.

It wasn’t until she’d finished bathing and redressing Mikey that another thought occurred, one that shocked her to the core. This time she did snatch up the phone.

“Wha—?”

“Trinity, it’s Angie.”

“Wha—?”

“Look, I’m sorry it’s so late, but it’s important. Tell me what was in the cobbler we ate tonight.”

Trinity groaned. “Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea what time I have to get up in the morning to go to work? You woke me because you couldn’t wait a few more hours to get my recipe for cobbler?”

“No, I woke you because Mikey may have had an allergic reaction to your cobbler. What was in it?”

“Oh, hell.” Her friend suddenly sounded more alert. “Okay, okay. Ingredients for cobbler. Um, sugar, blueberries, raspberries—”

“Currants? Did you use currants?”

Trinity gave a quick laugh of surprise. “As a matter of fact…”

“Thanks, that’s all I needed to know.”

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