Jack followed Kat back to the nursery. "You heard all the fun and wanted to join the party, didn't ya, a storin?" He reached over Katherine's shoulder to play with Daisy's blonde curls. Tears streamed down her pink face.
Kat patted her back. "I changed her diaper, but she won't calm down. This isn't like her." She said. "Does she feel warm to you?" She handed Jack the baby.
Jack held Daisy under his arm and pressed his huge hand to her cheek, then her forehead then her other cheek. "Huh." He mumbled. He used his thumb to wipe her tears away. "Yeah…Shhh." Jack soothed. "Shh." He gently kissed her forehead, then licked the heat from his lips. "Yeah, Kitten, she's definitely got a fever. And her nose is running."
"What do we do, Jack?" Kat said. Her voice was quiet and tense. "She's never been sick before."
Jack sat down in the rocking chair and held Daisy in his lap. Her cries slowed to hiccups; she looked back and forth between her parents with big green eyes.
"Maybe give her a bath or something to cool her down?" He said. "I dunno, Ace. I ain't never done this before."
"Neither have I!" Kat said. She took a deep breath. Across the apartment, their friends laughed loudly.
"We better send the fellas home." He said.
Kat nodded, frowning. "Man, some hosts we are."
"Ain't ya fault ya not feelin' good." Jack said to Daisy, then stood up and handed her to Katherine.
"I'm gonna see if I can get her to nurse." Kat said. She traded him places in the rocking chair. "Tell everyone how sorry I am."
"Yeah." Jack said.
His friends were still laughing when he got back to the table. "Hey hey, Jackie, ya gotta hear this story!" Race said. The girls had parted from their beaus, leaning close together to gossip. His half-finished drink and half-decent poker hand laid in front of his empty chair, but he couldn't sit down.
"Miss Daisy joining the party?" Crutchie asked.
"Did Katherine get her back to sleep?" Davey asked.
"Actually, fellas," Jack said. "Daisy ain't feelin' so good. She...she was fine earlier but now she's got a fever."
A chorus of awwws and oh no came from the table. Tommy stood up, cigar still hanging from his lips, and began collecting his cards.
"Katherine and I's might sorry to have to kick y'all out." Jack said. "We just...I...she ain't never been sick before."
"Hey, man, life happens." Crutchie said. He finished his drink and looked around for his crutch.
"Don't sweat it, Jack." Race said. "Take care o' ya family."
Jack began to pace, wearing a line between the dining table and the couch. "She ain't never been sick before." He repeated.
"'Ey 'ey, what's all this fretting about?" Race grabbed Jack by the shoulder and stood with him in front of the dying fire.
"Jack." He said quietly. "You one of da best guys I know, a'right? Ya a great dad. Ya took care of plenty of sick newsboys and we didn't have nothin', ya know. We's all out there begging for bread and hacking out headlines wit the Christmas plague every dang year."
"Yeah, yeah, I remember."
"But you're married to an heiress, Jackie. Y'all got everything ya need."
Jack shook his head. "She jus a baby, Racer."
"I know, buddy." He said. "But she gonna be fine."
Jack took a deep breath. Tommy walked past them, lugging an ottoman they'd pulled up to the table back to its place.
"What y'all doing?" Jack said. Specs and Crutchie were clearing the table, lugging stacks of cider mugs and plates into the small kitchen.
"Helpin'" Crutchie said. "Kat don't need to worry 'bout a sick baby and cleanin' up after a party."
Jack followed them into the kitchen, a stuffy, awkward space at the back of the apartment. Davey was putting the extra sandwiches in the ice box. Lydia and Rebecca pumped water into the sink.
"We can get out of your hair if you'd rather, Jack." Lydia said. "But it won't take us a moment to do these dishes up."
"Y'all!" Jack said. "It's a holiday. It ain't even 10 yet. Go out. Enjoy ya selves."
His brothers pretended not to hear him. Rebecca, who actually didn't hear him, turned around from the sink. "Where is your soap, please?"
"Hey, Jack." Davey said. He took a bite of a sandwich. "If it helps, Les coughed through every winter til he was four or five and other always gave him peppermint tea. Or I remember sometimes taking him outside and breathing the cool air helped."
Jack ran a hand through his hair. "Ya too dang smart, ya know that?"
"We got this handled." Specs said. "Go take care o ya girls, Jackie."
...
Last bit of this will be Jack and Kat taking care of her and all the emotions that come with that. Thanks for reading, friends!