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The day got worse. Audrey had meningitis. The type that could kill you. That came on suddenly with ordinary feeling off-colour symptoms. She was gravely ill, on oxygen, being fed antibiotics and fluid intravenously. He should’ve broken the house down to get to her quicker. They had every expectation she’d recover. They said that as though they also had any number of expectations she might not. But they’d caught it soon enough, before the rash, before limbs and brainstems were compromised, so there was hope.
Hope. Jesus Christ. What if this had been the weekend? Holy fuck.
He stood with Merrill, Joe and Les, in a hospital waiting room and tried to absorb what they’d been told while they waited for a doctor from public health to consult with them. Mia wouldn’t leave his arms, didn’t want to be put down.
Merrill tried to take her. “Mia, can I have a hug too?”
“No.”
“Oh please.” Merrill was good at this, she was trying to help, but Mia had superhero stubbornness
“No. Leave me alone.” Merrill tried a tickle attack. Mia turned her head away but said very succinctly, “Fuck.”
Merrill gasped, but knew enough not to make a big deal of this, with Mia at least. She gave him a death stare, and what remaining position, what limited moral authority he had took another knife to the guts and bled all over the sanitised hospital floor. His only salve was that Mia knew exactly how that word was meant to be used. Clever, like her mum.
The doctor from public health chose that moment, when Reece was the poster boy for bad child care to arrive. He needed to talk to her about whether meningitis was contagious and if Mia was at risk. If he was. The doc briefed them further on Audrey’s treatment. The best thing was learning he didn’t need to beat himself over knowing how ill she was.
Symptoms onset for bacterial meningitis was sudden and for the most part unremarkable: a sore neck, sensitivity to light, a fever, a rash, which was partly what made the disease so dangerous.
Reece kept his voice down and his enquiry about himself neutral, it was entirely unreasonable to be concerned, but he saw naked curiosity fix in Les’ eyes, and knew Merrill was made of ears.
Close contact made meningitis contagious. Sharing cutlery, coughing, sneezing. Kissing. The doc wanted Mia on antibiotics. Told him what to watch out for, what to do. Explained that Reece should be fine, have enough immunity to combat casual contact, but he couldn’t muck about with this.
“We, er, might’ve had closer contact.”
“Oh yes. You found Audrey this morning.”
“I held her.”
“You’re right to ask,” Doc stoked one of Mia’s plaits, “but you should still be fine like this little one.”
She turned to go. The others were watching. He was forced to speak up. “We had closer contact.”
She stopped, turned and studied him. “Mmm, how close?”
He frowned. This woman was criminally intelligent. She could guess what he was getting at without him having to say it. If he didn’t have to say it, he could protect Audrey. Once he said it there was no going back, it was everything Audrey wanted to avoid.
“Did you have sex?”
Joe said, “Holy shit,” and Merrill shushed him.
Reece kept his focus on Doc. He didn’t want to see how he was screwing Audrey over with her friends. “No. We kissed.”
“When? Are we talking a peck on the cheek?”
He shook his head. “Last night.”
“You need a course of antibiotics too.” She walked. “Come with me.” He followed.
“Reece.”
He let Joe call after him. He wouldn’t make a scene, he had no rights here. He wouldn’t even get to see Audrey, and it needed to be about her and Mia, not his own wounded pride.
When he came back with the filled prescription, Merrill reached for Mia. She had a pink iced donut as a lure and Mia was hooked, going willingly into Merrill’s arms.
“We’ll look after Mia. We’ll stay at the house tonight so she’s in her
own bed. Give me a call tonight and I’ll update you on how Audrey is.”
