U – Usually Understanding
It started out as a great idea, most things do and like most things it soon disintegrated into something much less ideal. The Coulsons were nothing if not driven and continuously strove to just be a normal-run-of-the-mill-everyday-family. That seldom worked out for any of them.
Spring had finally sprung and the last vestiges of winter evaporated in the late April sunshine. The skies were brilliant blue and casting off all of the clutter the cold of the Northeast leaves behind was on everyone's to do list. Yard work was at the top of that list but so was providing seasonal clothing for four growing children. It was a toss up as to what would be done first and through a long and heated discussion it was decided that come Saturday, Melinda would enlist the help of Elena to take the girls shopping for the day.
Skye definitely needed a haircut and Jemma could use a summer trim. Both girls needed new shoes and had grown out of the clothing put away last fall. Fitz was in just as much need but whined incessantly over having to endure a day of trying on clothing and having everyone oooo and awww over him. In the end Phil and Trip came to the little boy's aid and insisted he spend the day with them and Mack, clearing the debris from the farthest part of the yard and assembling the large play scape Phil insisted the children needed. Melinda rolled her eyes at the thought of Fitz involved in such an enterprise but when Trip pointed out that as the resident engineer his little brother's expertise would be essential the hesitant mother had no choice but to acquiesce.
Mack and Elena arrived the morning of the big day at half past seven bringing a brand new Belgium waffle maker and everything needed to make a whopper of a breakfast for everyone. Skye pulled the door open and stood staring up at the couple with one eye closed and slept-in-hair poking out in odd angles.
"Trippis still in his bed. He non't wake up yet, Mack." She yawned as she dug a fist into one eye.
Mack let out a chuckle as Elena smiled and scooped the little girl up, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Oye, pequeña," she tapped the little girl on the tip of the nose with one finger, causing Skye to blink twice. "Se supone que no debes abrir la puerta tú solo. ¿Dónde está tu mamá?"
Skye dropped her head on Elena's shoulder and mumbled, "momma's esta inna bonyo." She pointed to the door of the powder room halfway down the hall. "Daddy bees up the steps, still." She yawned and pointed up before snuggling into the woman's embrace. "The big kids is still inner beds."
Elena hugged the little girl tighter and kissed the back of her head. Mack squeezed around them. "Lazy bunch, aren't they." Skye nodded but kept her eyes closed as Elena bounced gently and swayed side to side.
"I think someone else should still be in her bed." She whispered as she smiled at her partner.
Mack made his way to the kitchen determined to get started with his breakfast fit for royalty. Plans were to have the girls out the door by nine, but that was flexible. Melinda stepped out of the powder room and almost headlong into Mack as he passed. She stepped back as her eyebrows rose.
"Breakfast is on us, this morning." He smiled as he continued on his way. Melinda nodded then turned toward Elena and a very sleepy Skye.
She shook her head as she stepped toward her friend. "She's been up since five." Melinda sighed. "I've been trying to get her back to sleep but…"
Elena put a finger to her lips, motioning for silence then turned so Melinda could see her little one was indeed sleeping. Melinda smiled at her blissfully snoozing baby and stepped aside for Elena to lay her on the couch in the family room and tuck a soft blanket around her. Skye whined a few times and the women froze. The little girl squirmed to her side and pulled herself into a tight ball but did not rouse. They tiptoed from the room, smiling at each other.
Within the hour the Coulson children dribbled into the kitchen one by one. Trip was first to join the quartet of adults that sat at the table sharing hot beverages and quiet conversation. He smiled at the scent of freshly made bacon and couldn't help snagging one piece from the piled high plate Mack had provided. He shot the man a thumb's up and helped himself to a cup of coffee before sliding on to a seat at the table.
Jemma arrived fully dressed and ready for the day's outing. She poured a large glass of orange juice and sat next to her brother. Her eyes widened as Mack set a large pile of waffles covered with strawberries and whipped cream in front of the older boy then added a second plate piled with bacon. Trip dug in without waiting for an invitation.
"How 'bout you princess?" Mack smiled. "Ready for the royal treatment."
Jemma shook her head, still staring at Trip's monster breakfast. "I don't think…"
"Trip here's got the Emperor's portion," Mack chuckled as he gave the boy a firm pat on the back. Trip slipped forward almost losing the forkful he was about to consume them immediately recovered and went right back to his feast. "I've got just a dainty little portion for you, sweetie."
Jemma smiled and nodded slightly. "Just a little bit for me, then." Mack smiled back and resumed his waffle baking.
Several sneezes preceded Fitz's arrival to the kitchen. He stopped at the door and sneezed again before taking the last few steps to the table. Melinda looked into his red rimmed eyes and shook her head.
"I still don't think it's such a good idea to have him out in all that pollen all day long, Phil." Melinda sighed as she pushed herself up and took Fitz by the hand. "Look at him, his eyes already look like they're on fire."
"I'm f…" Another round of sneezing stopped the little boy from completing his protest. He scrubbed his arm across his nose when it stopped then sniffled twice. "I'm okay, mom." He squinted up at his mother through teary eyes.
"Mmm hmmm," Melinda frowned as she tugged him toward the powder room. A dose of his allergy medicine would alleviate the problem for about six hours. She'd have to count on Phil to dose him again this afternoon.
Fitz sighed from his perch on the closed toilet seat. "The medicine will help, mom." He sniffled again but stopped before swiping his nose with his sleeve as Melinda handed him a tissue. After blowing his nose hard, Fitz tossed the Kleenex in the waste basket and rose to wash his hands.
Melinda shook her head and held out two purple tablets and a cup of water. Fitz grimaced but took the pills and swallowed them quickly. She watched to be sure he little trickster actually swallowed both then shook her head again. "Fitz, you're going to be miserable in the yard all day."
The little boy shook his head and swallowed a second gulp of water. "No, no I won't. The medicine really helps. I never have a problem at school when I take it."
Now Melinda sat on the lid and pulled him closer. "You are not outside all day when you're at school." She held his hands in hers and squeezed a bit.
Fitz let out a sigh. "I promise if it gets bad I'll come inside and just watch."
Melinda bit her bottom lip and turned her head to the side. "Oh, baobei that is no fun at all, to just watch." She sympathized.
Fitz drew a breath and let it out slowly. "It's better than dragging around a shopping mall all day."
Laughing, Melinda pulled him into a hug. "Oh, bao bao, I wish I could take this all away."
"But look," Fitz pulled back and raised his brows. "It's working already. I haven't sneezed in at least five minutes!"
Melinda smiled at the little boy's exaggeration and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as they stepped into the hall. Fitz sneezed three times before taking two steps.
"Bless soo," Skye's little voice came from the doorway of the family room as she shuffled into the hall as well.
"Thanks," Fitz frowned as his mother scooped up his baby sister and kissed her cheek. Melinda frowned as well, wrapped one arm around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head before leading them to the kitchen.
xx
Getting everyone fed, clean, dressed and out the door took a bit longer than anticipated but by ten Melinda had both girls secured in the SUV with Elena riding shotgun. She hesitated at the back door, grinning at Phil in well worn jeans and a superhero T-shirt. Even the sneakers on his feet were frayed and scuffed giving the illusion the man spent hours in manual labor. He took one look at her, shook his head and pulled her into a hug.
"He'll be fine, Mel." He kissed the top of her head. "I promise. I'll watch him like a hawk."
Melinda closed her eyes and drew a deep breath against her husband's chest, breathing in the smell of his cologne. She smiled at the irony. He was trying so hard to look like a landscaper but the scent of his white collar life gave him away instantly. "Allergy meds at two thirty and if he gets drowsy…"
"I will hog tie him until he agrees to nap for at least an hour." Phil chuckled as she slapped his shoulder. He kissed her again. "Seriously, Mel, I will make sure he's okay. Now, go before Skye chews through her restraints."
This time Melinda chuckled. She kissed him quickly and moved to the car, waving once before getting inside and pulling out of the driveway. Phil stood on the deck and watched then shook his head and laughed as the car pulled immediately back to the garage. The driver's door opened, Melinda stepped out and pulled open the back door on the same side. A few minutes later she brushed past Phil with Skye in her arms.
"I gotta pee-pee," the little girl explained to her daddy as they passed.
Phil's mouth formed an understanding 'O' as he nodded and tried not to laugh again.
The second time Melinda pulled the SUV out of the driveway; she tooted the horn and waved then continued to the intersection and around the corner toward the shopping district.
xx
Mack swiped the sweat from his brow with the side of his arm and let out a long breath. He looked down at the small boy struggling with a large log that he'd pulled from a mound of debris piled against the back fence of the Coulson's property. Fitz wobbled the piece of wood back and forth in an effort to topple it. The little boy was not about to attempt to carry it, but if he could knock it to its side he could definitely roll it to the area where his father intended to create a fire pit. He smiled up at Mack and quickly wiped a hand under his still sniffly nose, leaving a dirty smudge.
"Let me give you a hand there, Turbo." Mack chuckled, easily pushing the log over with one foot.
Fitz watched then stepped back and scratched his head. "Technically, you've given me a foot, but I am grateful." The little boy chortled as he leaned over the coarse bark of the log and began pushing it out of the big man's way.
Mack chuckled as he watched Fitz continue to struggle with the log until Trip stepped along side his little brother and assisted in rolling the thing across the yard. He turned to Phil who was hacking at a rather nasty piece of brush covered with thick thorns. He'd banished the boys from the job since their mother would be none too pleased to see them covered with scratches at day's end.
"This must have been here since the place was built." Phil huffed as he tugged at a more difficult root.
"Might need more than just a hatchet to pull that free," Mack shook his head. "I've got a chain in the truck. We can yank it out with that…be a lot easier."
"Faster too," Phil breathed heavily as he stood back and wiped his face with the back of his hand.
Mack stepped to the side and looked around the thick brush. "Probably gonna have to replace this section of fence, all this moisture's got it pretty rotten back here."
Phil let out a frustrated huff.
"Not too bad," Mack's voice came from behind a large shade tree. "Maybe five or six slats, shouldn't take long." He stepped back and brushed the dirt from his hands. "Once we get this monster out of the way we can get a better look."
Fitz let out a heavy breath and plopped down on the log he and Trip had finally managed to roll to the opposite side of the large back lot of their yard. He wiped his hands on the thighs of his jeans a second before sniffling into a stream of sneezes.
Trip repeated 'bless you' several times then stopped, deciding to wait until the wave passed and he could cover it all with one all encompassing comment. He tried not to laugh at his brother who in his sneeze fit reminded him very much of his grandmother's tabby cat that did the same when Gram sprayed air freshener in the bathroom.
Finally stopping, Fitz wiped his eyes and nose with both hands. The dirt from them transferred to his face leaving him looking like someone preparing to either go on a heck of a secret mission or take part in some not so legal undertaking.
"God bless you," the older boy laughed.
Fitz nodded his thanks and ran the back of his arm across his nose.
"Man, you are just making it worse." Trip smiled. "If dirt was blue you could march into battle with William Wallace."
Fitz scrunched up his nose then grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and scrubbed his face with it. It helped very little only smearing the dirt more evenly and leaving a matching smudge on the boy's shirt. Trip shook his head.
"Come on," He tilted his head motioning for Fitz to follow then led the smaller boy to the hose where he helped him splash some water on his face and hands. It wasn't great but it was better.
Both boys looked up as their father pulled open the large double gate that faced the court behind their property. Mack backed his large blue pick-up through a few seconds later. Fitz took off at a run to stand next to his father. Trip looked in all directions wondering why the change in plans before he too jogged over to meet the others.
Mack jumped out of the cab and grabbed a large dark chain from the bed of the truck. He tossed it over his shoulder and marched toward the area they'd been clearing, with Fitz close behind. Phil and Trip followed.
The quartet stood in front of the overgrown hedge and stared for a few minutes, Mack mentally sizing up a method to wrap the chain around the beast. Phil did pretty much the same. Getting behind that brush would be hazardous unless the sad soul was clad in chain mail. Fitz looked up at Trip who merely shrugged his shoulders having just as little idea as his kid brother about what was going on.
Mack gave a quick nod. "I can squeeze between the fence and the tree then toss the chain around behind. You grab it on the other side. I'll climb under and secure it."
"It would be easier to climb under first." Fitz chimed in as he stepped between the two men. "The distance around the base of the hedge is considerably smaller. You could swing the chain around if we were to lop of about a foot of brush. It would give a better hold as well."
Both men looked down at the small boy then back to the shrub.
"You know he's right." Phil remarked without looking at Mack.
"I'll get the loppers." Mack huffed, dropping the chain to the ground.
xx
Fitz squatted down on his haunches and watched as Mack wrapped the large chain around the now trimmed base of the brush. He snaked it through the thickest branches then pulled it together and secured it with a large lock. Before extracting himself from the tangle and standing he glanced back at the little boy who smiled and offered a thumb's up. Mack smiled, stood and yanked on the chain a few times to gauge its grip. This time he offered the upward thumb. Fitz turned and cupped his hands to his face.
"Okay, Da we're secure." The little boy turned and smiled up at his friend.
Mack wrapped an arm around Fitz's shoulders and stepped back and out of the way as Phil made a final check of the chain's attachment to the rear of Mack's truck then slapped the bumper twice signaling Trip to start the engine.
The young teen grinned with satisfaction as he turned the key and lightly tapped the gas. He was still not over Mack trusting him to complete this task, let alone actually move his treasured pick up. The truck bumped forward slowly. Trip felt the resistance of the object they attempted to pull from the ground.
"Easy…nice and easy," Phil spoke calmly from the side of the truck, watching behind as he guided the boy forward.
The chain when taunt, temporarily stilling the truck as Trip pulled his foot from the gas to the brake, fearing what might yank off the back of the vehicle. He looked to his father for instruction. Phil in turn held up a finger and looked to Mack. Fitz was again in a squat peering under the hedge from his spot next to Mack.
"Looks good here," Mack called at Fitz's nod. "Give it a little gas, pull it out gently."
Phil gave a nod then turned to Trip and nodded again. Trip tapped the gas and sent the truck ahead a few inches, almost in a tug of war with the bush that had probably been tangling itself around the rocks and soil in the back of the property since before Trip was born. He tapped the pedal again, gaining another few inches.
Fitz looked up to Mack as the bush shimmied against the tug of the chain. It crunched and crackled its protest. The little boy stepped back, for an instant seeing the large thorny shrub as an entity moving on its own volition. He shook off the silly thought and watched as the chain yanked two then three times before it went slack as the bush pulled up from the soil. He heard Mack and his father encourage Trip to try it again. The chain once again went tight and with one good tap on the gas the truck lurched forward and the monstrosity came free popping up once then falling like a large dead beast as it dragged across the ground behind the truck.
"Yeah!" Fitz jumped in the air with a grand fist pump. "We did it!" He ran to inspect the large hole the bush had left when it pulled out of the ground.
Trip jumped from the truck and smiled at the slap on the shoulder his father delivered. They walked together to join Mack who was already pulling the chain free. Together they tossed the beast into the bed of the trunk. Phil looked over his shoulder toward Fitz who stood on the edge of the gap in the ground.
"Watch your step, buddy. You fall in that pit and break a leg your mother'll have my hide." He smiled.
"It isn't really deep enough to cause any real damage, Da. At the most I'd get terribly dirty and that we could remedy with a quick soak." Fitz replied staring into the hole.
Mack lowered his head to hide the laugh as Trip shook his head. Phil turned and took a few steps toward his younger son. Fitz turned toward his father at the same time and took one step before letting out a scream that froze everyone. The little boy leaned forward grabbing his calf as Phil broke into a run. Mack and Trip were a few steps behind.
Phil went to one knee in front of the little boy who repeated 'OW' over and over while clutching his bare leg. Phil spun the boy around to inspect for whatever was causing the distress. A large deep red welt rose on the back of Fitz's leg. Mack stepped quickly on the bee that struggled in the dust.
"Damn," Trip whistled under his breath.
Mack pulled out a pocket knife and flipped it open, turned the boy away from him and quickly ran the edge against the welt dragging the stinger from the wound. Fitz grit his teeth and squeezed his father's arm in an effort to keep from sobbing like a toddler.
"Hey, it's okay. Mack's got the stinger. We'll get some ice and I'm sure mom's got something to help in the medicine cabinet." Phil reassured the boy.
"I…" Fitz began. His eyes grew large as he let out a second shrill screech.
Phil quickly scanned every inch of his son but saw no second bee. The first sting could not have given the boy reason to react that way. Fitz pulled away, jumping up and down before grabbing the waist band of his shorts and yanking them to his knees.
Trip's eyes went wide. Had his little brother gone completely mad?
It was Phil's turn to bark, "Damn!", as Mack grabbed the boy and the woozy bee fell to the ground leaving the tiny black stinger adhered to Fitz's white briefs. He scooped up the boy and moved quickly for the back door, leaving the denim shorts on the ground. Phil hurried behind.
Fitz forgot about being brave in front of his brother and wailed with the added heat of the second sting.
Mack stood the little boy on a kitchen chair and spoke calmly. "We're gonna have to take a look, Turbo." He turned to Phil. "Grab some ice for his leg, and Trip get a soapy washcloth."
"I don't feel so good, Mack." Fitz stammered then looked to Phil. "Da…"
Phil knew the look. He swept the little boy off the chair and made it to the powder room just in time. It was not unlike Fitz to be physically ill when faced with extreme stress. He rubbed the little boy's back and assured him he'd be fine.
Fitz shook his head. "No, Da, something's not right." Fitz's voice sounded raspy. His breath came in short puffs before he turned back and lost the contents of his stomach for a second time.
Phil glanced down at the boy's leg now covered with large red splotches. When Fitz stood straight and turned to his father, Phil was taken back by the same splotches that now peppered his son's face.
Trip spun around the side of the bathroom door with a gray cylinder in hand. He grabbed his little brother and slammed the object into Fitz's thigh. Once again the smaller boy let out a wail of pain.
"Epi-pen®," Trip explained at his father's look. "Dr. Stephen's showed us how to use it, just in case. Mack's already called 911."
xx
Trip paced back and forth across the waiting area as Mack leaned his elbows on his knees. He rested his head against his hands and closed his eyes in quiet prayer for the little boy he held close to his heart.
"I should call mom." Trip remarked, stopping in front of the large pious man.
Mack lifted his head. "Let's wait to hear from your dad. I tried Yoyo, went straight to voicemail but she'll get back to me as soon as she can." He assured the boy.
"You know, that kid's got the worst luck." Trip shook his head. "It's just not fair how he always gets the crap end of the stick." He took a few steps away then turned back. "He's just a little guy and he was just trying to help…" Trip's voice cracked. He swiped away a lone tear and paced away from the large man, stopping at a large poster on the opposite side of the room. Closing his eyes, he tried to push away the memory of his kid brother's swollen face as he gasped for small sips of air or the look of sheer terror when the ambulance roared into the driveway and two uniformed EMT's whisked him away from Phil to a stretcher that made the kid look even smaller and skinnier.
Everything happened so fast and yet it seemed like it was slow motion. The techs barked statistics into small radios attached to their uniforms. One slipped an oxygen mask over Fitz's face while the other started an IV, both blocking Phil from offering any comfort. Trip knew they were doing their job, but he resented the fact that job put Fitz into more anxiety. One of the men ran a scissors up the front of the little boy's t-shirt, effectively slicing it in half then slapped adhesive leads on the kid's bony little chest. Monitors bleeped and blipped, adding to the chaos in the driveway as the men pulled the stretcher and snapped it to a workable height. They reassured Fitz, repeatedly carefully explaining what was happening and how they were helping. Trip almost laughed at his little brother nodding at their attempts. He could tell by the look in the kid's eyes that it meant nothing to him. They pushed the stretcher into the back of the ambulance, collapsing the legs in a cacophony of metal clangs then turned to Phil informing him he could accompany his son. The man bounced into the vehicle and took the terrified little guy's hand in his as one tech slammed closed the door then jumped into the driver's seat. Trip could still hear the sound of the siren as it screamed up the street.
He looked down at Mack's hand as it dropped on his shoulder.
"He's going to be alright, Trip. You did all the right things. You kept a calm head and grabbed that pen when your dad and I weren't even thinking about it." He encouraged.
Trip shrugged off the praise but before he could response with more than a humble smile, Phil stepped into the room.
"He's looking better." He breathed a sigh of relief as he ran a hand through is hair.
By the time the ambulance reached the hospital Fitz's lips had swollen to monstrous size. His eyes were swollen shut and his breathing was frightening. He fought for every bit of air despite the oxygen mask. The EMT administered a second pump of an Epi-pen, assuring Phil it was okay to do so. The man pulled off Fitz's sneaker and sock. Phil was surprised at the swelling there. The little boy's leg had also grown shiny and fat with the effect of the sting. The tech gently laid ice packs on either side causing the boy to shiver despite the sweat that now beaded on his head and cheeks. Even Fitz's small fingers had grown in size making it almost impossible for him to grip his father's hand. Phil placed his hand over his son's holding it between both as he spoke softly to the boy, telling him they were almost there and everything was going to be fine.
Now he looked at that hand realizing none of them had taken the time to wash or even throw on clean clothing. No wonder every other person in the room had taken seats on the opposite side of the large room. He rubbed his hands on the sides of his jeans and shrugged off the self conscious feeling it brought. "They put him on an IV to take care of the reaction. I don't remember…Melinda would know…she…damn, I need to call…" He shook his head and patted his pockets in search of his phone then let out a frustrated breath picturing it safe from yard work on the kitchen counter.
"Got it covered, boss," Mack spoke quietly.
Phil thanked the man with a look. "ER doc says it was probably the second sting that put him into shock. Maura's on call. She'll be here soon and they're probably going to keep him over night. Right now, he just wants mom."
"Must have been a nest of them around that bush," Trip shook his head and shuffled his feet. "I've seen 'em back there, Da. I should have said something."
"No way, kid." Mack sighed as he rubbed a hand across his stubbly beard. "I should have checked before we even started."
"It was an accident." Phil breathed then looked to the clock. "Maybe we should try the girls again."
xx
Except for a very brief struggle with a stubborn Skye over using a stroller, the girl's shopping excursion went without incident. After exiting the car in the parking lot, Melinda pulled the folded carriage from the hatch and was met with a stern faced, arm crossed little girl who glared her defiance.
Elena shook her head. She was not about to repeat the zoo fiasco and hoped Mama Melinda was a lot more adamant with her little protester than she'd been in the past. "¡Aquí vamos de nuevo! ¡Basta de esto! Una pequeña bofetada en el culo y ella se sienta en el cochecito de bebé." The woman mumbled under her breath.
"You need to sit in your stroller, darling." Jemma attempted reasoning in her gentle voice.
"I'n not a liddle baby. I'n five now." Skye argued, holding up five fingers before immediately regaining her stubborn stance.
"Yes, but you still have such little legs and you'll have a very hard time keeping up. You will become cranky and tired. You don't want that now, do you?" Jemma smiled, feeling she had solved the issue.
Skye narrowed her eyes and stomped one foot before turning her back on her sister. Melinda opened the pink and purple umbrella stroller with one foot and pushed it to the side then spun her little warrior around with a gentle hand on top of the child's head. She dropped into a squat to face the little girl, pulling the stroller back to her side and patting the seat.
Jemma recognized the look on her mom's face and attempted to diffuse the situation. "The current theory of child development says in cases like these, parents should offer their child a suitable choice so that both sides are able to compromise and agree to a happy decision."
Elena rolled her eyes and turned away, once again mumbling in her mother tongue. Skye looked at her sister and then her mother and narrowed her eyes as if daring one of them to make the first move.
"Thank you, Jemma." Melinda smiled at her older daughter. "That seems like a fair suggestion."
Elena threw her arms in the air and used a few choice Spanish terms that Melinda hoped her children did not understand. She chuckled under her breath at her friend's reaction then turned to Skye placing her hands on the little girl's shoulders.
"Okay, baobei, momma will give you a choice." She patted the seat of the stroller again and smiled. "You can put your little bottom on this seat with or without momma helping it along." She smiled at the little girl and waited. Skye looked at the stroller then back at her mother, determined to challenge her authority.
Melinda raised one eyebrow and pulled the little girl close enough to whisper in one ear. "Nǐ kěyǐ zuò zài zhèlǐ, huòzhě wǒmen kěyǐ huí dào chē lǐ. Zài nǐ zuò xià zhīqián, māmā huì dǎ nǐ de xiǎo pìgu."
Again Skye looked her mother in the eye. Melinda smiled and gave a quick nod before she stood but the little girl did not budge. Letting out a soft sigh, Melinda put out a hand and waited for Skye to take it.
Skye dropped her arms and shook her head. "I siddown now." She plopped herself into the stroller and snapped the light belt around her waist.
Melinda held up a thumb.
"That was a wise choice, Skye." Jemma smiled as she took the handle of the little vehicle and pushed it toward the walkway.
Elena shook her head. "Always a challenge, that one, no?"
"Always," Melinda snorted as the women followed the girls toward the shops.
xx
The rest of the morning went well, with Skye's good behavior being rewarded by allowing her to walk hand in hand with Jemma at various intervals or until she became too tired or too rambunctious to handle. Most of the time the little girl asked to return to her mode of transportation, despite being five she was still the size of a three year old and tired easily. Dr. Stephens promised she would catch up to children her own age but it might not be until the growth spurt of puberty. Melinda was fine with that. Both her babies were small for their age and that just meant she could keep them in her arms even longer.
That thought brought Fitz to mind and she glanced at her watch, still two and a half more hours before she'd need to remind Phil about the allergy pills in the powder room cabinet. Until then she promised herself she would not call or become a suffocating mother that could not spend a day away from her child. He was with his father, she told herself and he was more than capable for caring for their children. Jemma brought her attention to a pair of shoes that would be perfect for Skye and she shook off her worry.
By the time the group decided it was time for a quick lunch, Skye had visited almost every restroom in the shopping area. It was a general agreement that the food court would be a wise choice since taking their little whirlwind into a fancy sit-down establishment would probably earn them a persona non grata status rather quickly.
Melinda pushed the stroller, now over burdened with packages they had draped over the handle bars, into the large cafeteria-esque room and chose the cleanest table she could locate. Skye was out of her seat and on to the closest chair before anyone could ask what the lunch choices would be.
"I have chicken nuggins, momma? I have keppich, too?" She smiled as she knelt on one of the heavy metal chairs and rested her elbows on the table.
Melinda smiled her agreement and looked for the venue that would offer that menu. Once she let go of the stroller it tipped backward with the weight of the packages. She and Elena picked up each and plopped them on the seat of the buggy while Jemma made sure Skye did not topple to the floor.
"Perhaps, I take these to the car?" Elena suggested. "Any more and we'll be pushing packages and chasing that little road runner all over the mall." She nodded toward Skye who was now standing on the chair and pointing toward something in the distance. Jemma stood with her arm around her sister's legs.
Melinda agreed and after grabbing chicken nuggets for Skye, with plenty of ketchup and a Caesar Salad for Jemma, she joined her girls and watched as Elena wheeled the well packed little buggy toward the exit.
xx
Elena pushed the last package into the hatch of the large SUV and brought down the door. She took a deep breath of the fresh air and smiled at the clear blue of the sky. Winter had been long and gloomy with storm after storm and enough snow to last the Latina a lifetime. At first the Mexican born and raised woman found the white stuff a novelty but after almost six months of shoveling and navigating the streets and highways in ice, sleet and slush, she had quite enough. In fact, she was pretty sure she'd had enough to last her a lifetime. Mack assured her it had been an unusually snowy season and that some years there was barely a flake. Yeah, well the freezing cold was no picnic either.
The soft familiar chime of her phone brought her back to the present. She pulled it from her pocket and smiled at the name on the screen a second before realizing it was now a reminder that Mack had left a message more than an hour ago. How could she not have known? Granted, it was a quiet afternoon and she'd silenced the thing once they arrived at the mall. She was taking the afternoon off and that meant no worries or contact or issues with any work nonsense. Although she was pretty sure she'd left it on vibrate, but could be mistaken. She shrugged once and smiled remembering he'd asked her to pick up a few items for him on her travels. Maybe he'd thought of something else. She pressed a few clicks and listened to his short message. He sounded like the usually cool Mack but stressed that she call him as soon as she got it.
Elena pressed the return call key and waited a few seconds for Mack to answer. She smiled at the sound of his voice as she walked back toward the mall entrance.
"Hey, Turtle Man…miss me?" She laughed as her smile broadened.
"Elena," Mack's voice was calm but serious
Elena froze at the sound. Rarely, if ever did he call her by her given name.
"There's been an accident…" He began.
"Dios mio…" she breathed, "que pasó?"
Mack offered a brief explanation which was all Elena needed. She understood, tell Melinda because she shouldn't hear this over the phone and get to the hospital as quickly as possible. The woman pushed the phone into her pocket and pushed the empty stroller through the door.
From across the large expanse of the Food Court Elena could see Melinda enjoying a meal with her girls. It wasn't often she saw such a large smile on her friend and employer. Theirs was a serious business and left little time for frivolity. The Melinda Coulson who was mother to four quite different children was not the same woman as the Melinda May who ran the security agency in DC. However, Elena was one of the very few who had witnessed the woman transform from one persona to the other in a heartbeat. She dreaded having to be the one to shatter the enjoyment of the day and fought the urge to approach slowly rather than dashing to the table. Walking at a normal rate was the best choice and doing so without giving away the anxiety she felt was just as difficult.
Elena was about twenty feet from the table when Melinda spotted her. The change in Melinda's demeanor was enough to let the woman know her expression had given it away.
"What is it?" Melinda met her halfway, leaving the girls wide eyed at their mother's sudden departure.
Elena looked to the girls first and stepped toward them, hoping Melinda would follow. She'd rather if they were seated and the kids were close, but Melinda grabbed her arm stopping her.
"Elena, what…tell me." She softly demanded though the look in her eyes was much more authorative.
"We should sit." Elena nodded toward the table. Jemma looked back with the same look of expectation her mother wore. Skye blissfully drew squiggles with one finger in the ketchup puddle on her plate.
Melinda stepped in front of her friend. "Someone's hurt," she stated, taking her cue from Elena's expression.
"Fitz…" Elena barely had the name out of her mouth when Melinda turned back to the girls and began clearing the table. She pulled a packet of wipes from her bag and swiped Skye's hands and mouth then quickly deposited her in the stroller. Jemma hurried to help, still unaware of the situation but knowing it was time to move quickly.
Elena shook her head and tried again. "He…" she paused for a second lapsing into her own language in her anxiety. "Él tuvo una mala reacción al aguijón de una abeja. Phil está con él en la sala de emergencias. Trip está con Mack. Necesitamos apresurarnos, pero no podemos asustar a las chicas."
Melinda nodded her understanding but did not speak. Jemma looked up at the explanation and hurried to match her mother's stride as the group made their way out of the court and into the shopping area. Even Skye seemed to know something was not right. She held tightly to the sides of her little buggy and forgot all about her request for ice cream.
Halfway across the concourse, Melinda stopped and pulled her little one into her arms, easily flipping the stroller closed with one foot. She hefted Skye to her hip and shoved the now folded buggy toward Elena.
"Stairs," she barked and the others understood. The elevator would take too long and Melinda had no patience for waiting at this point. If she could have pulled Jemma into her arms and sprinted to the car she would already be there. As it was they fought the crowd and made it to the car in record time.
Melinda dropped Skye into her seat and snapped the restraints around her while Jemma watched then unsnapped and untwisted them in order to make her little sister more comfortable. The agitated mother pulled her keys from her bag and put a hand on the driver's door a second before Elena relieved her of both.
"I will drive. You are in no condition…" she didn't finish the statement, merely nodded toward the passenger side and waited for Melinda to comply.
There was no time to argue the point, Melinda let out a quick breath and slid around the car then dropped into the seat as Elena started the engine. Jemma snapped her seat belt as the car pulled from the space.
xx
"How ya doing, little man?" Phil asked softly as he held Fitz's hand in his own. He tried not to look at the wires and tubes that connected his son to the many beeping machines surrounding his bed. The oxygen mask was replaced by a cannula, making it easier to understand the boy when he tried to speak.
"They…rip…ripped…my shirt…" Fitz sighed between short breaths.
Phil smiled, as if that were the worst of it. "We'll get you another one." He assured his son.
"It…was…m…my…Cap…sh…shirt." He looked to his father with a small pout.
"Yeah," Phil nodded. "I think I might have one I can lend you til we find a replacement."
Fitz smiled and closed his eyes at the silliness of his father's offer. Phil's t-shirt would fit him for a dress, but having it would be the best thing ever. Da loved his Captain America T-shirts and so the reason Fitz had one in the first place.
"I…m…sorry…Da…" Fitz whispered when he noticed his father looking away.
"Hey, buddy, you didn't do anything wrong." Phil squeezed the little boy's hand. "These things just happen. They happen to everyone."
"Es…pecially me…" Fitz wheezed.
"Naw," Phil smiled. "I've been stung plenty of times. When I was your age got one right on the lip. Damn bee was on my soda can and when I took a drink….POW!"
Fitz tried to laugh, but it came out more of a sleazy cartoon villain hiss. It took him a moment to catch enough breath to reply. "Bet…you…did…ent…nee…d…am…bu…lance…"
Phil shook his head. "No, but I had a fat lip for days. I looked like some cartoon freak." Fitz wheezed a little laugh. Phil smiled and shook his head, relieved to hear his little boy's laughter albeit restrained. "Hey, one of the kids in my class started calling me Mrs. Potato Head. It was not pleasant." Again the little boy laughed so hard he began gasping for breath and coughing a wheezy cough.
The tone on one of the machines changed in pitch and frequency causing Phil to jump to his feet. He peered down at his son who now seemed to gasp for air.
A nurse arrived before Phil could make a call. "Okay, sweetie," the large, dark woman smiled. "Take it easy, just gotta make a little adjustment here and there." She pulled a stethoscope from one of her deep pockets and listened for a few seconds as Fitz attempted to regulate his breath. She smiled and patted his shoulder then turned and increased the oxygen level above his bed. "Gonna take a peek at those nasty stings," she warned before lifting the blanket and sucking in a quick breath that only Phil noticed. "Must have been some hungry critters out there today," she smiled as she gently put down the light cover. Due to the location of Fitz's injuries the staff had rolled a blanket and set it behind the boy to keep him from lying directly on the wounds. "We're going to get you some medicine for that as soon as the doc sees you." She patted his hip gently then turned to Phil.
"How 'bout we keep this little guy quiet for a while?" Turning to Fitz she added, "less talking, more breathing. Got it?" Fitz gave a quick nod. She stepped around the bed, checked the IV in the boy's arm and the infuser at his side before giving a large smile and exiting the area.
Phil waited until the curtain closed then frowned at his son. "Guess she's the warden, huh?"
Fitz gave a weak smile.
xx
Melinda entered the ER with Skye on her hip. Elena followed, leading Jemma by the hand. She scanned the large waiting area but Mack had already spotted her and rose from his seat. The large man was hard to miss. He made his way across the room to meet the women.
"Six," he nodded to Melinda as he took Skye from her arms. The little girl did not protest and had remained quiet almost sensing the mood of the adults around her. "Come on, Tremors," he smiled at her and reached out for Jemma's hand. "Someone told me you're in the mood for some ice cream and I know just where to get it." He nodded at Melinda and led the girls away.
"Go," Elena told her friend. "They'll be fine. Mack and I will make sure they're okay. You just keep us informed." She turned to follow Mack, nodding to Trip who had been standing at the seat he'd vacated, watching the action. He nodded to his mother as Elena took his arm.
Melinda took a deep breath to quell both her fear and her anger. She wasn't quite sure what she felt more. How could this happen? Why wasn't Phil more careful? How many times was he stung? How bad was it? Could it get worse? The questions swirled in her mind as she approached the window where a young man sat speaking to anxious family members. She waited until the older woman in front of her passed through the large double doors then stepped up and gave her name.
"My son was brought in…Fitz…Leopold Coulson Fitz…" She waited as the young man smiled and turned to the computer screen before him. He tapped a few keys. She could not wait. "He's in six, please just let me go to him." Melinda hoped that did not sound too demanding or too desperate. The young man nodded and pressed a large button. A buzzer sounded and Melinda was through the door before he could give her further directions. The first examining room was twelve. She marched past ignoring the hustle and bustle of the ER.
"Damn, who designs these things," she mumbled to herself as the next room was nine and the one after was fifteen. She peered down the hallway hoping to see some sort of arrow to point her in the right direction but most of anything that was on the wall was blocked by the people either on gurneys or in wheelchairs waiting to be seen or moved to another area. Melinda fought the urge to scream.
"Can I help you ma'am?" A very young nurse asked when they crashed into each other.
"My son…" Melinda began then swallowed and started again. "Just point me to room six."
The girl smiled and pointed straight ahead. "Take a right at the end of the hall and then left at the next. Six is the third on your left." The girl continued as Melinda was already on her way.
xx
Phil sat listening to the steady bleeps of the monitors as Fitz stared at the long board strapped to his arm. He didn't really remember them putting it there and figured it was to keep him from getting at the IV needle, not that he'd ever dream of doing anything so foolish. But, to the doctors and nurses he was just a kid. They had no idea he was smart enough and just squeamish enough to leave well such things alone. He opened his fingers and stared at the red lines across the back of his hand. Jamie Grant had left welts on him just like that on more than one occasion. The little boy closed his eyes tight and shook off the memory.
The large heavy curtain that covered the opening of the treatment area scraped open with a squelch causing Phil to jump and Fitz to lift his head as Melinda stepped inside and pulled it closed behind her. She glared once at her husband and hurried to her child.
"Momma," Fitz breathed as the tears he'd been holding broke forth in a flash flood.
Phil stepped aside as she leaned over and took the small boy in her arms, holding him gently and whispering comfort into his ear. She kissed his head several times before laying him back and smoothing the hair from his face.
Melinda took in his condition, slowly scanning the room and his features. Fitz's face was streaked with long red stripes, his eyes bloodshot and swollen. She could see the red welts reached into his hair line and across his chin to his neck then disappeared under the blue airplane motif hospital gown. Both arms were also striped and she imagined the rest of his body was the same. She could not see any sign of where he'd been stung. Wires led from the little boy's chest to the heart monitors on the wall and three IV bags hung over the infuser at the head of the bead. She noted the oxygen level on the wall and gently adjusted the cannula on her child's nose as she rose and turned to face her husband.
"What happened?" She spoke through her teeth. "Where was he stung?"
"It was so fast, Mel." Phil explained. "We were just standing there and he started screaming. We didn't even know…"
"You weren't watching him?" She growled.
"Wha…watching him?" Phil wasn't even sure he'd heard correctly. "Of course I was. He was looking into the damn hole the shrub made when we yanked it out. How the hell was I supposed to know about the bees?" He shot back, now defending himself.
The curtain squelched again as Dr. Stephens entered and picked up the clip board that hung at the end of Fitz's bed, effectively silencing his parents.
"Hey, Fitz," she smiled. "Heard you had a run in with some nasty apis mellifera." She squeezed his foot gently. "Crappy reaction, huh?" The doctor frowned. Fitz did not reply. She stepped closer and held her stethoscope to his chest and then his back, listening carefully to his labored breathing and rapid heart beat.
"How 'bout we assess the damages?" She smiled at Fitz then stepped to the opposite side of the bed.
Melinda looked to Phil who nodded then joined the doctor as she lifted the blanket and revealed the boy's injury. Melinda stifled a gasp at the sight of her son's swollen body. Fitz's left leg from his toes to his waist was almost twice its size and red raw. The doctor gently examined the large white circle on the boy's calf then moved to do the same on the second circle about two inches above the top of his thigh, smack in the middle of his bum. Fitz jumped at each touch despite the doctor's assurance that she would not hurt him or make things worse.
"The swelling is due to the venom and of course Fitz's allergies more than likely exasperated the effect. We're treating him with epinephrine, glucocorticoid and antihistamines to help him breathe easier." She laid her hand on the boy's hip and massaged gently. "I'm going to give him something for the pain and itch as well."
Fitz whimpered and squeezed Phil's hand. When Dr. Stephens used that language it usually meant a shot and he was certain he could not handle that.
"No worries, Fitz, just some nice cool topical cream and Tylenol." She turned to Melinda. "I won't give him anything stronger due to the breathing trouble. He may have some trouble sleeping tonight but we are going to keep him a few days just to be sure." She nodded to Phil and squeezed Melinda's hand. "These things happen. It's nobody's fault."
Melinda felt her face flush. The doctor must have heard her accusing her husband before she entered the small room.
"Your dad told us you've been vomiting so," she turned to Phil. "We've given him something for his tummy. Again that is a normal reaction as are belly pain and possibly diarrhea."
Fitz let out a mortified whimper. The doctor chuckled. "No worries, Fitz, the medicine will take care of that too. I'm going to order some breathing treatments, might make him a little jumpy. We'll keep him on a light diet and send you home with some new allergy medicine and of course a new Epi-Pen®. Good thing your dad used it so quickly and got you here as fast as he did." She smiled at the little boy and squeezed his foot again. This time Fitz smiled back.
The curtain was pushed open to its extent as a large man stepped into the room. He smiled and nodded to the doctor then began moving equipment to the sides of Fitz's bed.
"Afternoon, young man," he smiled broadly as he held out his hand. "I'm Luca and I will be your pilot today." Fitz took the hand and gave a limp shake. "Gonna hafta work on that, kiddo." The man smiled as he released the brake on the large bed and began moving it into the hall. He grinned as he passed Phil and Melinda giving a slight nod for them to follow. "We'll be flying at the amazing height of ground level as we ascend the passenger elevation device to Pediatrics on the ninth floor. Please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times." He continued as he snapped up the side rails and attached the oxygen line to a temporary transport tank. Fitz laughed a tiny laugh.
"And the guy's sense of humor was not effected," Luca grinned as he stopped and tapped the clipboard the doctor still held. "Be sure to mark that down doc." He looked down at the little boy on the gurney and spoke out of the side of his mouth. "Ya know most folks who get bee bit on the derrière lose almost all of their laughter as well…odd isn't it? Didn't think yer arse was connected to yer funny bone did ya?" Fitz let out a soft snort as they made their way down the hall.
"Don't…let…my mom…hear…you…say that." The little boy warned.
Luca winked and offered a thumb's up. He looked back over his shoulder at Melinda who smiled back.
Dr. Stephens smiled as well then patted Melinda's hand and nodded to Phil. "I will see you later, once Fitz is settled into his room." She slipped out of the room and disappeared into the controlled chaos of the ER.
Phil stepped next to his wife and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Phil. I shouldn't…" She began.
"It was Trip that remembered the Pen." He told her. "And Mack called the ambulance. I just…"
"Stayed with him and kept him calm because that's what you do." She smiled. "Because you're his father and you would never leave him."
He kissed her cheek as they exited the room and followed their son to the elevator.
The kids were allowed a brief visit to say goodnight to their brother then were off to spend the night with Mack and Elena although they argued valiantly to stay with their parents. Trip especially insisted on staying but agreed that their friends would need all the help they could get with his Tasmanian Devil baby sister and the overly sensitive Jemma. Having him close would help both of them.
It would be a rough sleepless night.
xx
Three days later Fitz was forced to spend the day on the couch in the family room despite having a clean bill of health. An exterminator was hired to clear the back yard of any hidden bee hives and Melinda considered never letting her little boy out of the house again.
"They're going to build the gym without me." Fitz pouted as he rested his chin on his hand, elbow on the arm of the sofa.
"I'm sure they know what they're doing." Melinda sympathized as she rubbed a hand on his back.
"But I was supposed to help." He breathed, blinking back tears.
Melinda matched his pout and pulled him into a hug, kissing the top of his head. "Oh, I know bao bao, but you're only home one say and I just want to be sure everything is okay."
"I'm fine, mom." He pulled back and looked her in the eye. He drew a deep breath and released it. "See breathing just like new." He kicked both legs rapidly then bounced up and down on his bottom. "No pain, no swelling, nothing…I really fine."
Melinda let out a sigh. She'd already had this same conversation with Phil, then Trip, Mack and even Elena but she was adamant that Fitz rest at least one more day. However the look on her son's face was melting her resolve.
"Please, mom…" he begged with a slight tilt of his head. "I'll be really careful and I won't go near any flowers or bushes. If I see one bee I'll come inside straight away."
She pulled him into another hug and rocked slowly. Fitz had no idea how close they came… She could not even bring herself to think of what could have happened or how she would have survived losing her sweet boy. At the same time she knew she could not keep him in a bubble for the rest of his life. She let out a long breath.
"Even if it's in the next yard?" She whispered into his soft curls.
Fitz nodded slowly before his mother's words finally sunk in. He sat back and smiled, eyes wide. "Really? You mean I can go…I can help?"
Melinda nodded and Fitz was on his feet in an instant. If Melinda hadn't grabbed his hand he'd already be halfway across the deck. "Only if your silly mother comes too," she grinned
Fitz's smiled broadened a second before he threw his arms around her neck. "Always, momma," he whispered in her ear before placing a soft kiss on her cheek. "Wǒ ài nǐ, mama."
He pulled his mother to his feet and led her to the deck. "Hey, guys!" The little boy yelled as he jumped from the top step of the deck and ran toward the back yard. "Hey guys, I'm back!"
Melinda hurried to catch up and stood watching as her little man joined the rest of the family welcomed with hugs and pats on the back. She shook her head and patted her pocket just to be sure that Epi-Pen was handy.
She couldn't protect him from life, but she'd make damn sure he lived every moment of it.
¹Hey, little girl, you are not supposed to be opening the door all by yourself. Where is your momma?