“Why don’t you?” He pushed the TV remote in Juliette’s direction.
“Camila said I couldn’t until I finished my sandwich.”
Brian guessed there had been a mini test of wills, which wasn’t uncommon or unusual considering both individuals’ personalities. He took the remote and turned on the TV. “What do you mean when you say you don’t feel good?” Brian was curious about Juliette’s ongoing long list of mild complaints, which had started with Emma’s seizure and hospitalization, and had only gotten worse since her homecoming.
Juliette rubbed her hand vaguely around her stomach, which is what she’d done previously when he had asked for specifics. “And my head hurts.”
“I’m sorry you are not feeling well. Does Bunny have the same symptoms?”
Juliette nodded.
“The more I check out that grilled cheese sandwich, the better it looks,” Brian said. “Do you mind if I have a bite?”
Juliette pushed the dish in his direction. Brian took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Not bad! Actually, really good! Maybe you should let Bunny give it a try.”
After offering the sandwich to Bunny to take a bite, Juliette took one herself. Brian purposefully didn’t comment. Instead, he was content to just sit with her and enjoy a portion of a Curious George episode. As they watched, Juliette toyed with her food without eating any more, until Camila eventually returned.
“I’m sorry,” Camila said. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Don’t be silly,” he said, waving her apology away. “I understand completely. We’re all under stress.”
“I think you’d better see if you can help Aimée and Hannah. They’re having a difficult time with Emma.”
“Right!” Brian slid out from the breakfast nook. The whole time he’d been in the kitchen, he’d occasionally heard distant sobbing and raised voices. With some apprehension about what he was going to face, he climbed the stairs. If both Aimée and Hannah were struggling, he thought the chances he could help were mighty slim.
The hospital bed was in the center of the room with the head pressed up against the wall between the two windows that looked out over the driveway and the neighboring house. The guest room bed, where Hannah had spent the night, had been pushed back against the common wall with the hallway. Aimée was on one side of the hospital bed and Hannah on the other, while Emma was lying in the bed with her upper body on a towel. Her face was streaked with tears, and a basin with soap and water was on a stool on Hannah’s side. As Brian entered and approached the foot of the bed, Hannah draped a towel over Emma’s midsection.
“She’s refusing to let us bathe her,” Hannah explained with irritation.
To Brian it was clear that everyone in the room was emotionally overwrought. The question was: What to do?
“I want to take a shower,” Emma complained, her voice catching. “They won’t let me!”
“It’s too dangerous,” Hannah lectured. “You are not walking right, and you might fall. Then you’d be worse off than you are now.”
“It’s true,” Aimée added.
“How about a bath in the master bathroom?” Brian offered. It was clear Emma was feeling ganged up on, and the guest room bath only had a shower.
“That might work, but only if she lets us get her there and then back to bed,” Hannah stated as the domineering mother she’d always been.
“How about you guys take a coffee break?” he suggested, trying to be diplomatic toward Aimée and Hannah. Since he was highly dependent on their help, the very last thing he wanted to do was offend them in any way. “I think I’d like to have a few moments with my wife.”
Aimée and Hannah exchanged a questioning glance, then reluctantly agreed. They filed out without another word. Hannah, who was the last to leave, closed the door behind her.
“I don’t want to be here,” Emma said, surprising Brian. Over the last few days, she’d been suffering various stages of confusion. But now she sounded not only oriented, but lucid and almost like her old self. “I feel that I’m getting worse, not better. I need to be back in the hospital so I can be treated to get back to normal.”
Brian nodded but struggled with what to say. After he had read that the vast majority of encephalitis survivors ended up with serious neurological deficits, he was reluctant to bring up the issue of what getting back to normal was going to mean. He also wasn’t prepared to explain to her why it wouldn’t be possible to get her back into MMH Inwood, even if that was what she preferred and even if it made the most sense medically. The whole situation was much too complicated and heartbreaking.
“Besides, I’m a big burden being here at home,” Emma continued as new tears formed in the corner of her eyes.
“You are not a burden,” Brian said, trying to protest but knowing in many ways that her presence was more difficult than he had expected. He gave her a hug and then gripped her hand. “And your mother and my mother are thrilled you are here. They see it as an opportunity, certainly not a burden. They’re happy to help.”
Taking advantage of her sudden lucidity, he broached the subject of Juliette. Brian could tell that she was horrified to learn that her actions since arriving home on Saturday had exacerbated Juliette’s behavioral problems.
“I had no idea,” Emma said regretfully. “I hardly remember anything since I’ve been here, which is scary.”
“She’s missed you terribly. If I had to guess, I think it’s mostly from having witnessed your seizure in the car. That’s frightening for anyone, especially a four-year-old who’s as close to her mother as Juliette is to you.”
“Oh, gosh! I’ll have to make it up to her. It just makes me feel awful, the poor thing. She’s been through a lot.”
“It’s certainly not your fault,” Brian said. “But anything you do or say will undoubtedly help.”
Without any warning, Emma pulled her hand away from his and slapped her palm to her head, gripping herself hard enough that her forehead wrinkled and knuckles blanched. At the same instant, her other hand noisily grasped one of the bed’s metal guardrails. Shocked by the sudden motion and noise, Brian blinked and retreated a full step backward.
“What’s going on? What happened? Are you okay?”
Emma withdrew her hand, blinked, and looked over at him. “Wow! That was strange. I guess I’m okay. I just had a sudden jolt, and now I have a headache.”
“Do you want me to get you something? An ibuprofen?”
“No, I’m okay. I just feel a little odd, and the headache is already going away.”
Brian moved back alongside the bed and gripped Emma’s arm. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I guess.” She blinked several times. “What I’d like to do is get this ridiculous bath conundrum over with. As much as I hate to admit it, my mother is correct about it being dangerous to try to shower in my current state. I don’t want to fall, nor do I want to burden them with giving me a bed bath like I’m a child.”
“Okay, I’ll run the bathwater,” he said. “And then can I call the mothers back? They are desperate to help.”
“I guess. Sure. Call them back! Meanwhile, put down one of the guardrails so I can sit here for a few minutes on the side of the bed to adjust to being upright. What will you be doing while I take a bath?”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll spend a little more time with Juliette.”
“Good idea,” Emma said, sounding like her old self. “Tell her that I look forward to seeing her after my bath.”
“I’m sure she’ll like to hear that,” Brian said, giving his wife’s arm a reassuring squeeze.
Chapter 13
August 31