Page 54 of The Marriage Agreement
“People get sick all the time,” Damien says. “It happens.” He moves closer and comes to stand beside me.
“You said I should not take food from strangers, but I did. Nicole--”
The door to the room swings open and a nurse waltzes in with a clipboard in hand. “How’s my little trooper doing?”
Lakes croaks a “Fine,” as she closes the door. Her gaze turns to us and she beams. “And are they your parents?”
Lake nods.
“Now I get why you’re such a heart-stealer.”
Lake smiles in return. We must look like a happy family from an outsider. A young couple coming from some dinner event and was concerned about their son’s well-being. I’m grateful for my coat covers the little cocktail dress inside. And as though to solidify the happy family image, Damien takes hold of my hand.
“What is the problem?” he asks. “We were told that he had a negative reaction to something he ate.”
The nurse sighs. “Yes,” and checks her clipboard. “His tonsils swelled up, something similar to what we see in nut allergies, but I understand your son doesn’t have one?”
“He’s always eaten peanuts,” I say. “He loves peanut butter.”
“Some children develop allergies later in life. That must have happened to him.”
“But he didn’t eat anything with nuts in it.”
“Plenty of products might have traces of nuts in them. Candy, especially, is one to look out for. He might also have eaten some type of nut he’s never had before and that might have triggered the reaction.”
I turn to Lake. “Did Nicole give you anything when she came by?”
Lake casts his gaze down. He nods slightly.
“Lake.” More sternly this time. “What did she give you?”
He looks away. Now I’m even more concerned. He is a little more terrified than before and he looks like he wants to dig up a hole and bury himself inside. He clutches at the blanket, but it doesn’t budge. After a minute that feels like five, he answers in a barely audible voice. “Chocolate pistacho.”
Damien frowns. “Chocolate pistachio nuts?”
Lake barely nods.
Several emotions flick over Damien’s face. He seems not only unable to believe his son, but at the same time, convinced he’s telling the truth.
“Are…Pistachios something you’re allergic to?” The nurse enquires.
Damien nods.
“Well, there we go.” The nurse says matter-of-factly. “It could be a family thing. Although I am not a doctor and I can’t speakmore about this, that’s possible. Plenty of people inherit their allergies.”
I can’t believe I had forgotten that about him. I remember his distaste for nuts and thought it was a preference. Little did I know, he had an allergy. He never gave it away. He rarely gives anything away. I turn my attention to Lake and wonder if Damien was ever hospitalized when he was Lake’s age.
“Things like this can be hard to catch, especially when it’s hereditary. The parent might have designed their life subconsciously in such a way that the child never encounters the allergy until well into adulthood sometimes,” the nurse says as she checks Lake’s vitals and gives him and adjusts the machine. “The doctor will come to you soon,” she says as she’s about to leave. Then she blows a kiss to Lake and adds, “See you later, trouper.”
Lake goes back to sleep again after a few minutes. I turn to Damien. “You never told me you were allergic to pistachios.”
“I don’t know. I thought you knew.”
“Nicole certainly knew.”
“She probably gave them to him without thinking. I don’t think it’s some grand skim to hurt Lake.”
“Is it not? She just came to your apartment and gave your son something she knows you’re allergic to, for shits and giggles.”
