Patricia Rockwell - Essie Cobb 02 - Papoosed (13 page)

            “Mildred McKensie, last night,” said the young nurse, dressed in her colorful animal print jumpsuit, leaning over the desk, as she and Phyllis glanced together at a list.  “Then, of course, Adele Anderson, you remember.  This morning right here in the lobby.”  The nurse pointed to a name on the list.

            “Yes,” replied Phyllis, making a mark on the list with a pencil.

            “Then we just had four more within the last hour,” said the nurse and rattled off the names of several more residents.  The doctor confirmed it.”

            “Blood tests?” asked Phyllis.

            “Running them now.  The doctor expects them to be positive for Mildred,” replied.  “And Adele.  We expect the same for these other four.”  The two women looked at each other.

            “Pretty violent symptoms,” said the nurse.  “Looks like a very contagious stomach virus.”

            Essie heard the last phrase “stomach virus” as she was rounding the decorated tree and heading back down her hallway.  This was a really frightening development.  A contagious disease of any sort in an assisted living facility could be dangerous.  Even though she’d had her annual flu shot, she knew there were always strains of viruses that managed to make it through that barrier and cause havoc at many places such as Happy Haven where groups of people lived together.  And, of course, there was the baby.  Infants were particularly susceptible to contagious diseases.  And she and her friends were keeping him here in a hothouse of germs.  What were they thinking?

            She rolled quickly down her hallway and into her apartment.  Her three friends were feeding the baby with the glove bottle.  Essie came in quickly and closed the door.  She heaved a deep sigh and then told them the news. 

            “There’s a bug going around,” she announced dramatically, “and Violet thinks we’re holding wild parties!”

Chapter Fifteen

“If your baby is ‘beautiful and perfect, never cries or fusses, sleeps on schedule and burps on demand, an angel all the time,’ you’re the grandma.”

–Theresa Bloomingdale

            “Essie, your phone’s been ringing off the hook!” said Marjorie as Essie stormed into her living room.  “What do you mean bug?”

            “And what wild parties?” asked Opal, looking up from the sofa, baby Antonio cuddled warmly in her lap. 

            Essie moved to her favorite chair and flung herself down with a sigh.  “Violet accosted me in the lunchroom.  Seems Clara Monroe complained about the noise we’ve been making!”  Her three friends looked  concerned.

            “What noise?” cried Marjorie with a loud gasp, then suddenly whispered, “What noise?”

            “I think Clara’s just jealous,” replied Essie in a similarly soft voice.  “She sees the four of us going and coming from here and feels left out.  That’s all I can think of. The baby just doesn’t cry that much.”  Fay nodded to this last statement and patted Antonio where he was quietly slurping his dinner in Opal’s arms.

            “Should we ask her to join us?” asked Opal as she squeezed the glove bottle gently to help baby Antonio secure the last few drops of substitute formula.  Antonio playfully pushed the bottle away and stretched.  “Here, Fay, why don’t you put him on Essie’s bed and see if he’ll fall asleep?”

            Fay carefully took the little boy in her arms and expertly drove her automated vehicle silently into Essie’s bedroom. 

            “Heaven’s to Hermione!” exclaimed Essie in response to Opal’s suggestion.  “Don’t you think we have enough of us involved as it is?”

            “I, for one, don’t want to involve Clara,” said Marjorie, conspiratorially.  “She’s always turning her nose up at me.  I’ve spoken politely to her but she acts like she’s better than everyone else.”  She shifted her shoulders back and forth and stuck out her lip in a pout.  Essie often thought that Marjorie was very much like the grade schoolers she used to teach. 

            “I don’t know about that,” argued Essie, “or if she just doesn’t know how to go about making friends …”

            “Certainly not by complaining about her neighbors!” declared Opal, slapping her arm decisively on the end of Essie’s flowered sofa.  Opal was all about mature and responsible behavior.  She had had to mollify many an irate employee and customer in her many years as an administrative assistant and she had been very good at her job.

            “And what did you say about a bug?” asked Marjorie, all excited..

            “What did you say about my telephone?” countered Essie.  “You didn’t answer it, did you?”

            “Of course not!” exclaimed Opal with a huff.  “That would take a lot of explaining, now wouldn’t it?  And, besides, it wouldn’t be proper.”

            “It depends on who was calling,” suggested Marjorie.  “Most of the calls I get are from people conducting surveys or trying to get me to buy a timeshare vacation home in Bermuda.  If it was one of those people, I don’t think they’d know or care who answered the phone.”

            “But what if it was Essie’s doctor?  Or … worse … what if it was Violet?” asked Opal.  “If she’s suspicious of us, she just might call to check up on Essie.”

            “Or worse, she just might drop by,” added Essie.  “That’s what really scares me.  She is the Director.  She has a master key.  She can walk in any apartment at Happy Haven whenever she wants.”

            “Oh, Essie,” said Marjorie, “she can’t just go around barging into our apartments without a really good reason.”  She flopped her head of curls back and forth in a child-like manner.

            “And now she has a good reason,” replied Essie.  “Clara has given her one.”

            “She would need more reason than one resident complaining about a noisy neighbor to just enter an apartment unannounced,” said Opal, logically.  “I think that’s unlikely, Essie.  But I do agree that Violet is probably going to be watching you … and us … more closely.  We need to be much more careful what we do.  We need to be especially quiet and we need to try to keep Antonio as quiet as possible.”

            “But Opal,” said Marjorie, “he’s a baby!  Babies cry!”

            “True,” agreed Essie, “but there’s four of us.  We all need to work together to anticipate his needs before he has the need to cry.”

            “Good luck!” said Opal, ever the pragmatist. 

            As the three women continued to argue, Fay returned to the living room, pushing the bedroom door shut behind her.  She put her finger to her plump little lips to indicate that the infant was sleeping.  The women all put their fingers to their lips to indicate that they got Fay’s message.

            Marjorie whispered, “Essie, what did you say about bugs?  Something about the exterminator?”

            “No,” whispered Essie in response, “a flu bug.  I overheard one of the nurses talking to Phyllis at the front desk.  Several residents have caught a nasty bug, it appears.  Remember Adele Anderson this morning?”

            “So, it wasn’t food poisoning?” asked Marjorie.

            “They don’t know,” replied Essie.  “They’re running lab tests.  It looks like the same strain as the lady who got sick in the dining hall this morning.  This has me more worried than anything.  I’ve had my flu shot … “

            “Me too!” declared Opal.

            “And me!” added Marjorie.  Fay nodded to their statements and pointed to herself, as she drove her wheelchair into the circle. 

            “Yes,” said Essie, “but Antonio hasn’t!  And he’s more susceptible than anyone!  He’s a newborn.  He hasn’t been seen by a doctor.  Who knows what underlying physical ailments he might have that might compromise his immune system …”

            “Essie,” argued Marjorie, “Antonio seems very healthy.  His skin isn’t sallow.  He’s nice and plump and he’s very responsive.”

            “Says Dr. Marjorie?” responded Essie.  “You taught second grade, Marjorie.  You aren’t a pediatrician.  If one of us comes down with this virus, Antonio will be in great jeopardy!”  The four women sat frozen, staring at each other contemplating the seriousness of this most recent development.

            “As I see it,” said Opal finally, laying out their options, “it’s a toss up.  Maybe Antonio would be safer from a contagion standpoint if the four of us were not involved, but from a workload standpoint, Essie, it … takes a village … or so they say, to raise a child.  At least, at Happy Haven, it takes four senior citizens to care for one newborn.  Face it; we can barely take care of ourselves!”

            “I resent that, Opal!” exclaimed Essie.  “I get along quite well.”

            “As long as you have your aide to dress you in the morning and get you into your pajamas at night,” added Marjorie, poking Essie playfully.

            “The same as you!” retorted Essie.   The escalating argument was cut off when Essie’s telephone rang.

            “Oh, no!” cried Essie.  “We’ve been too loud.  That’s probably Violet calling to inform us that Clara is complaining again.”

            “It’s better that she call to complain,” noted Opal wisely, “than she show up at your front door!”

            “That’s right!” said Marjorie.  The phone rang a second time.  Marjorie carefully lifted the receiver from the phone, holding it as if it were a rattlesnake, and handed it to Essie.

            “Hello,” said Essie tentatively but pleasantly into the mouthpiece.  “Oh, Claudia,” Essie said with a relieved sigh.  She continued to listen and nod, her face taking on a look of greater and greater despair.  “Yes, Claudia, I’m thrilled that Kurt arrived early.  Uh hum.  The program’s at four. ”  Essie rolled her eyes for the benefit of her three friends.  “Truly, Claudia, I wish we didn’t have to do this today.”  She gave a pitiful sigh into the receiver.  Fay, Opal, and Marjorie nodded encouragingly to Essie and motioned her efforts with gestures.  “Why not?  Because … because … there’s some sort of bug going around.”  She listened to her daughter’s reaction.  “Oh, no, dear, I’m fine, but, you know, some of the residents are pretty sick and …”

            “Tell her you think you should stay in your room,” suggested Opal.

            “Tell her you don’t want them to be around a lot of sick people,” added Marjorie.  Essie attempted to listen to her two friends and to her daughter on the telephone at the same time. 

            “Yes, dear,” said Essie into the telephone, “yes, I know I have to eat.  Of course, I want to see Kurt.  It will be lovely to have you three children take me out, I’m sure.”  Essie cringed and ran her palm over her forehead.  Fay, Opal, and Marjorie looked back and forth from one to the other.

            “Don’t worry, Essie!” whispered Marjorie.  “If your children insist on coming over and taking you out to dinner, the three of us can watch Antonio in one of our rooms until you return.”  Opal and Fay nodded their heads to Marjorie’s promise.

            “Yes, dear,” said Essie into the phone.  “I guess I’ll go with you.  Yes, you’ll be here a little before four.  In time for the caroling program.  Yes, dear.  It does sound lovely!  Okay.  See you then!”  Essie gently placed the receiver back in the telephone cradle.  Her shoulders sagged noticeably as she looked from one friend to another.  “Are you sure you three can handle this?”

            “Haven’t we been doing a fairly good job so far?” queried Opal with a shoulder point to the bedroom.

            “Oh, I didn’t mean to imply that you all aren’t competent,” said Essie quickly.

            “Then, don’t, Essie,” said Marjorie.  “Just go out with your family and let the three of us take care of Antonio.  When you get back, we’ll bring him back down.”

            “Fine,” agreed Essie.  “I guess if we’re going to transfer Antonio from one location to another, we should make arrangements now.”

            “Yes,” said Opal, sitting upright on the sofa and gesturing for their attention, as if she were conducting a meeting.  “What I suggest is that the three of us return here around three or three thirty to pick up the baby and his belongings.  That should give you time enough to get ready for your children before they get here at four.  Then when you get back from dinner, just call me …”

            “Why doesn’t she call me, Opal?” interjected Marjorie.  “We can keep Antonio in my apartment.”

            “It doesn’t matter,” said Opal.  “All of our apartments are virtually the same.” 

            “Why not Fay’s apartment?” offered Essie, in an attempt to squelch the budding argument.  “Does it matter?  Actually, come to think of it, I suggest you all go to Marjorie’s place because it’s closest to mine … on the same floor.  You’ll be less likely to run into anyone … especially Violet or Clara … transferring the baby from here to there and back again.”