Chapter 11. Off The Hook

Several red blisters were sprinkled over Rachel's smooth skin. Callie inspected them, with a sinking feeling. "Honey? Is anyone sick in your class?"

"Yeah," the little girl replied. "Um, Kaitlyn has chicken pops."

Callie sighed. "Well, Baby. I think you might've caught chicken pox from her." She went to the dresser, and got Rachel's nightgown. "Let's get you into your jammies, and into bed."

"But it's not nighttime!" Rachel protested. "The daytime is still out!"

"I know," Callie replied. "But you're sick, Baby. You might even have a fever. Listen," she continued. "I didn't know you weren't feeling well, and that explains why you've been having such a hard day. So, don't worry about getting in trouble in school today. Daddy will understand."

"So I'm not in trouble anymore?" Rachel asked, surprised.

Callie shook her head. "You're off the hook, sister." As she helped Rachel undress, she found more blisters on her back and legs. "Lay down, and Mommy will get you something to help the itchies." She went to the bathroom, and returned with calamine lotion and cotton balls. "How would you like pink polka dots?"

Rachel grinned as Callie dabbed lotion on her pox. "It's cold!" She shrieked.

Callie laughed. "But it helps, doesn't it?"

The little girl nodded. "It feels good."

Soon after Callie was finished applying the lotion, she heard Brandon come into the door. She hurried to him, and told him about her discovery. "Have you ever had chicken pox?" She asked.

Brandon nodded. "Sure... when I was three. Have you had them, Cal?"

Callie's face went pale. "I don't know... I can't remember."

"Okay," said Brandon, squeezing her shoulder. "Is there anyone who would know?"

Callie looked down at her feet. "No. Just... my father. But I am not calling him."

"Callie," said Brandon.

"No," she said firmly, shaking her head. She sighed. "I'm gonna go get Rachel some ginger ale."

"Maybe I should get it," said Brandon. "It might be better for you to keep your distance, since you don't know if you can catch it. And the baby, too... oh god, I hope he doesn't catch it."

Callie felt like crying. How could she stay away from her little girl? She was supposed to sit up with her all night, sing to her, and tell her stories. That's just what mothers do when their children are sick. "I want to take care of her," she protested. "She needs me."

That night, Callie waved to Rachel from the doorway. "Goodnight, Baby girl. I love you!"

"Goodnight, Mommy," Rachel replied. "Love you." She blew Callie a kiss.

Callie threw her a kiss in return, then walked sadly to she and Brandon's room. She changed Gabe's diaper, then she laid down on the bed to feed him. She heard Brandon singing to Rachel from her room. She strained her ears to make out the song, then began humming along. It was "Hey Jude." Rachel loved that song, because it reminded her of her Uncle Jude, who was actually named for the song. Rachel didn't like the typical kiddie songs, like "The Itsy Bitsy Spider." Brandon had made sure of that, exposing her to good music since she was in the womb. No nursury rhymes for their little girl. She adored The Beatles. Eventually Callie drifted off to sleep, and didn't awaken until morning.

The next day was a complicated one. Rachel was upset that she couldn't go to school, despite never wanting to go back the previous day. She didn't feel well, and spent the morning whining for Callie. Brandon's hands were tied. He couldn't stay home from work to take care of her that day. "Callie, I know you don't want to hear this," He began. "But I think you really should ask your father about your having chicken pox. It's not like it's a social call, and you have the right to know."

She shook her head. "No. I can't. But there's no reason I shouldn't take care of Rachel." She sighed. "I've already been exposed, anyway. If I catch them, I catch them. What can you do?"

"But wouldn't it be nice to know for sure, so you don't have to worry about it?" Brandon replied.

Callie considered this. She did want to spend time with Rachel. "I'll think about it."

"Okay," said Brandon, kissing her. "I'm late for work, so I've gotta run. Love you."

"I love you, too," Callie answered. "Bye!" Once he was gone, she did her best to take care of her daughter while avoiding getting too close. By lunchtime, feeling stressed and tired, she realized Brandon was right. She did have the right to know, and knowing would make things a lot easier. She picked up her phone, and dialed her father's number. It rang and rang, Callie growing nervous. Finally, his voice mail picked up the call. "Hey," she said into the phone. "This is Callie. Listen. I know you don't want to talk to me, but I need to ask you a question... please. I need you to call me back as soon as possible..."

"Who is this?" A female voice asked, interrupting the message.

Callie involuntarily shook with fear. "I need to talk to da- Mr. Jacobs. Please. Is he there?"

"No," the woman replied. "We got our phones mixed up, so he has mine and I have his. What do you want with my husband?'

"Oh..." Callie surmised. "Then you're Linda?"

"Yes," the voice answered. "I am. Who are you?"

"I, uh..." She wasn't sure how to answer.

"Are you fooling around with my husband?" Linda asked suspiciously.

"No!" Disgusted and insulted, Callie decided this had all gone far enough. "Gross! He's my father!"

To Be Continued