Page 48 of Landry

“In the kitchen, in the cabinet over the microwave.”

Landry hurried out of the room and sprinted down the hallway into the kitchen. He riffled through the cabinet, reading labels until he found one marked for children that advertised for fever. He grabbed the bottle and an oral thermometer. In another cabinet, he found a child’s plastic cup, filled it with water and rushed back to Ava’s room.

Camille sat on the edge of the small bed, holding her daughter, rocking gently and singing a song about a unicorn.

Ava sobbed softly. “I don’t feel good.”

When Camille spotted Landry, she held out a hand. “Here’s Mr. Landry with your medicine. It’ll make you feel better.”

Landry handed Camille the thermometer. “Check her temperature first.”

Camille stroked Ava’s face. “Sweetie, open your mouth. I need you to put the thermometer under your tongue.”

Ava’s forehead bunched, but she did as she was told.

Camille settled the thermometer under her tongue, waited the required time then took it out.

Landry leaned closer, wanting to know what the gauge read.

“One hundred and two.” Camille glanced up at Landry. “The doctors don’t usually get worried until it’s up another degree or two. If the medicine doesn’t bring it down, I’ll take her in.”

Seeing the beautiful, active child so not herself made Landry want to rush little Ava to the emergency room. But the last thing he needed to do was lose his shit when they needed him to be calm, collected and helpful.

“How much does Ava weigh?” Landry asked.

“Thirty-five pounds,” Camille said.

He handed her the cup of water, opened the bottle of medicine and shook out one tablet. He dropped to his knees beside Ava’s bed and held out the chewable tablet. “Hey, princess.”

“I’m not a princess,” Ava said and sniffed.

The tear that rolled down her face gutted Landry. “You are to me,” he said. “You’re strong, brave and kind to everyone. Isn’t that what princesses do?” He placed the tablet in her hand.

Ava nodded. “Good princesses are kind.”

“And brave,” Landry insisted.

“And strong,” Camille added, smoothing a lock of black curls back from Ava’s forehead. “Chew the pill, sweetie. It’ll make you feel better.”

She took the pill from Landry and stared at it. “What about Billy Ray? He’s sick, and he doesn’t have a pill.”

“We’re going to find him,” Landry said.

The little girl, with eyes as blue as her mother’s, met and held his gaze. “You promise you’ll find Billy Ray?”

He nodded, praying he could fulfil that promise. “Yes, ma’am. And we’ll get him some medicine to make him feel better, too.”

For a moment, she stared at Landry. Finally, she nodded, put the pill in her mouth, chewed and swallowed.

Camille gave her the cup of water to wash it down.

Ava drank a sip, then settled back in her mother’s arms and closed her eyes. “I had a bad dream.”

Camille stroked her hair from her forehead. “It’s okay, Ava. It was just a dream.”

“An alligator tried to get us,” she whispered.

Camille met Landry’s gaze, her eyes filling with tears.

---