"He's got a temperature."
"How high is it?"
"It's 100.8. I looked it up online, and it says you shouldn't go to the doctor unless it's 102, but I'm freaking out here, Alana. He's really tired, and he's clinging on to me."
"If it makes you feel better, take him into the clinic. I'm sure it's nothing serious. But it will give you peace of mind."
"Too late."
"What do you mean too late?"
"I'm bringing him to you."
My eyes widen at the sound of a car pulling up outside.
"We're right outside. I'm bringing him in."
He hangs up, and I grab my glasses and swing my legs out of bed. I jog to the door so I can get there before Amos knocks and wakes Kyra.
I throw the chain back and open the door. A gust of night air wraps around my legs, and it's only then I realize I've run out without putting pants on. I've only got the oversized T-shirt I sleep in, and it just covers my underwear. I tug it down my thighs and have a brief panic about Amos seeing my chunky legs. But all worry about flashing Amos part of my body disappears as I watch Amos carry Sam in from the car.
Sam seems tiny in Amos's arms. His arms cling to his neck, and Amos holds him close to his chest as he carries him up the steps.
"I'm sorry to wake you, but I knew you'd know what to do."
"It's okay. Bring him in."
Amos carries Sam to the couch and sets him down among the cushions. His cheeks are pink, and his hair is plastered to his forehead.
I crouch down next to him while Amos paces behind me.
"How do you feel, Sam?"
He peers up at me with solemn round eyes. "Hot."
I put my hand to his forehead, and it radiates heat.
"I'm going to lift up your pajama top, okay honey? I just want to see what's happening under there."
I lift up the top and peer at his skin, looking for the telltale signs of a rash. There's nothing, and I pull his pajama top back down.
"There's no rash."
Amos has his hands in his hair, and he blows out a long breath. "There's no rash, so that rules out meningitis, right? Could itbe whooping cough? Measles? I don't even know if he's been vaccinated."
I stand up and place a hand on Amos's shoulder. "Can I see you for a minute?"
He glances at Sam and then reluctantly follows me into the kitchen. I keep my voice low so Sam doesn't hear.
"It's not going to help Sam to see you freaking out. I know you're worried. But get yourself under control."
He stares at me hard, and I put on my best stern face. Amos might have led a team of Navy SEALs, but in my kitchen, I'm the boss.
He nods once and takes a deep breath. "You're right. I just feel so helpless."
I put a hand on his shoulder. "Welcome to parenthood."
I grab my first aid kit from the kitchen and we go back to the living room.
