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Or maybe it was Mommy's wonderful homemade
soup. Maybe it was a good dose of aspirin, or maybe
it was a combination of everything, but Uncle Simon
relaxed, his face looked far less flushed, and he fell
into a comfortable sleep very soon afterward. "We'll move him back into the house
permanently," Daddy vowed.
"I think if he still has a high fever, we should take him to see Dr. Spalding tomorrow," Mommy
said.
"I'll try." Daddy told her. "He might not want to
be blood-related to Dad, but he shares some of his
stubbornness. That's for sure."
Mommy laughed.
Could we find away to mend all this? I
wondered. How I loved the both of them for their
eternal optimism, for the way they bore down and
gritted their teeth no matter what difficulties arose. I
hoped and prayed I had their perseverance. I knew if I
intended to go forward with a career in music and
entertainment, I would surely need it. Rejection and
defeats would be all over the road to any sort of
success.
The day went on. I kept hoping to hear from
Chandler, but he didn't call. and I wasn't up to calling
him just yet. I had worked in the garden for nearly an
hour, fixing what I could, and then I came in,
showered, and joined Mommy and Daddy in the
kitchen, where they were just getting ready to have a
late lunch.
"It's been hours. Isaac," she told him. "I guess
you'll have to see what's become of him."
