Chapter 6 - The Morning Dad Made Two Phone Calls
I woke up with my arm itchy under the white gauze and the apartment smelling like toast. Dad was already dressed, not his tie shirt, a blue one with the sleeves down. My bear sat on the pillow by my good arm. The bathroom door was shut and I could hear the shower running short, like Dad was just checking it.
That morning Dad kept looking at the clock on the stove. He poured my apple juice and cut the toast into strips, then stood in the kitchen with his phone in his hand. I heard Vanessa's slippers in the hall.
"You've got work," she said. Her voice was still sleepy. She had her cream cardigan over her pajamas. "I can keep her home. It's just cartoons and rest."
Dad didn't look up right away. He set his toast down without eating it. "Clinic said keep it clean and dry and take it easy," he said. "I already told my boss I'd be late after I drop her."
I swung my legs and my bare feet hit the chair. Take it easy meant I couldn't go to school pickup line because school wasn't back yet. I thought maybe Vanessa didn't want me to go anywhere because my arm looked bad.
Dad stepped into our little living room where it was cooler and called someone. I could hear every word because the walls were thin.
"Hi, Mrs. Alvarez? It's Mark from downstairs," he said, and then he paused. "Yeah, she's doing okay. We were at the clinic late... No, a scald from the bath. She's got a dressing on."
My cheeks got hot. I picked at a toast strip. Vanessa leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed, watching him.
"I know it's short notice," Dad said. "Could you take her for the day? I can't miss the whole shift. She doesn't need much, just no water on it. I have the aftercare sheet."
There was a quiet. Then Dad nodded fast. "Thank you. An hour? I'll bring her up with her bear and the numbers."
When he hung up, Vanessa said, "You don't need to pay someone. I'm right here."
Dad picked up my juice before I spilled it. His watch clicked against the table. "I know," he said. He kept his voice even. "They wrote rest and supervision and I want another adult set of eyes while I'm gone. It's nothing against you."
Vanessa didn't answer. She pulled her cardigan tighter. I thought I made them fight again, like in the steamy bathroom when Dad held me and asked about the water. My throat felt tight.
"Dad?" I said, real quiet. "Did I do bad?"
He came right down to my chair so his eyes were level with mine. He smelled like soap. "No, baby. Not even a little," he said. "Your job is just to heal. My job is to figure out the grown-up plan."
Upstairs, Mrs. Alvarez's apartment smelled like coffee and laundry. She was older than Dr. Harris, with short dark hair and a soft voice. She had a low couch and a plastic bin of blocks and a kitchen gate that clicked. Dad carried my backpack with my bear sticking out of the top.
He knelt by the couch and did our bear routine. He tucked the bear under my good arm. "You hold Ted, Ted holds you," he whispered, like always. It made my shoulders drop.
He put two papers on Mrs. Alvarez's counter. One was the clinic sheet with writing. One was a little card where he wrote fast in blue pen.
"My cell, work line, and the clinic nurse number," he told her. "Call for anything. Water stays off that arm. If the gauze gets wet or she spikes a fever, call me first, clinic second."
Mrs. Alvarez read it and nodded. "We will read books and do puzzles. No bath."
Vanessa had walked up with us but stayed by the door. She tried to smile at me. "Be good," she said.
I held my bear tighter. I wanted her to not be mad. Dad's hand stayed light on my back, not pushing, just there. He looked at Vanessa and then at me.
"I'll pick you up right after my shift," he told me. "No school line yet, so Dad's taxi."
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After Vanessa went back downstairs, Dad hugged me longer than usual before he left for work. The door shut soft. Mrs. Alvarez handed me a picture book and sat close enough that our knees touched. I could hear Dad's steps going down the stairs fast.
I still worried I caused trouble, but my bear was dry and my juice was in a sippy cup with a lid, and Dad's numbers were on the counter where I could see them.
