Present
"You're telling us that Joe edited your paper, and you got an A?" Chet asked, incredulous. "Come on."
"Well, why not?" Vanessa countered. "He's helped me before, too."
"Yeah, but, Phil; aren't you in the senior advanced class?" Biff questioned. "Joe's only in junior college prep with Tony."
Phil sighed. "Look, I confronted Joe about the paper later that day. He made me promise not to tell anyone what he said, but, well . . . it's just too big."
"What is it?" Frank asked.
"Joe's got Ms. Davis, too," Phil stated. "He said she approached him and offered to move him to her junior AP English class."
Everyone's jaw dropped. "What?" Fenton exclaimed.
"Look, you never heard this from me," Phil insisted. "Joe said that Ms. Davis kept trying to convince him to join, short of calling in his parents. Joe's got a lot of potential; I guess she didn't want to see it wasted."
"Well, then, why did he turn her down?" Frank wanted to know.
"He told me that AP English is a whole different workload," Phil replied. "And, while he did think about it, he said he wouldn't be able to get all the assignments done and still work on cases, too."
A stunned silence ensued. Frank and Fenton glanced at one another, their minds swirling as they tried to process the new information.
"I didn't agree with Joe's decision, so I went to Ms. Davis," Phil continued. "We've been meeting the past couple of months, and we think we have a solution to make everyone happy.
"This is my Christmas present to Joe, so none of you can tell him," Phil warned. "I've taken pieces and components from disabled computers and rebuilt a fully operational laptop, complete with extra memory and a built in modem. Joe can take it with him on cases, do research and reports, and then email his assignments to me. Ms. Davis came up with a syllabus that will meet the class' goals and objectives, but won't interfere too much with his casework. I put that syllabus on his hard drive. Ms. Davis also said that, as long as she receives the assignments by the end of the grading period, he can send them in late."
"Wow," Chet mumbled.
Fenton squeezed Phil's shoulder. "Thank you."
Before anyone could respond further, a nurse approached their table. "Excuse me . . . Fenton Hardy?"
"Yes?" Fenton replied.
"Your wife asked me to find you," the nurse told him. "It's about your son."
Laura was waiting for them in the waiting room, her flushed cheeks stained with tears. Fenton immediately gathered her into his arms.
"What happened?" Frank demanded, on the verge of panic.
"J-Joe's fever . . . it got so high, so fast," Laura cried. "He started having trouble breathing. Fenton, it was horrible . . . my baby . . ."
"Mr. And Mrs. Hardy?"
Joe's doctor was standing near the nurses' station, watching them. The Hardy family and friends crowded around him, anxious for news about Joe.
"Is Joe all right?" Fenton demanded.
The doctor's face was grave. "We've managed to stabilize him for now, though I had to put him in an oxygen tent to help him breathe. Let me warn you; Joe is very weak right now. I'm afraid we have to put him in complete isolation until his temperature lowers."
"We can't see him?" Frank asked.
"I'm sorry," the doctor replied.
"But he's going to get better, right?" Vanessa spoke up.
The doctor hesitated, considering his answer. "We'll keep him on antibiotics and try to regulate his temperature, but . . . we've done all we can. The rest is up to Joe now."
The mood in the waiting room was somber. Though it was past midnight, no one felt like sleeping. It was as if remaining awake were the only thing keeping Joe from succumbing to his pneumonia.
Fenton and Laura were on a couch, holding each other tightly and staring off into space. Callie sat on the other couch with an arm wrapped around Vanessa's shoulders. Her free hand was absently stroking Frank's dark hair as he leaned against her legs. Chet, Tony, and Phil were occupying various chairs, their eyes on Biff as the blond boy paced back and forth in front of them.
"I wonder if there's been any change," Chet commented, shattering the fragile silence.
"If there had been, the doctor would have told us," Tony pointed out.
"Joe's going to be okay," Vanessa stated. "He always is."
Callie sighed wearily. "How about we tell another story? It might help to pass the time."
Biff stopped pacing and sank into a chair. "Anybody got one?"
"I do," Vanessa said. She glanced at Callie. "Remember when I told you about Tara?"
"Tara the terror?" Phil asked as Callie nodded. "Don't tell me she and her friends are hassling you."
"Well, they were," Vanessa confirmed. "Until Joe found out."
"He must've gone ballistic," Frank said, smiling slightly.
"To say the least," Chet agreed.
"He didn't go after them himself, did he?" Laura asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"Of course not," Vanessa assured her. "Actually, his reaction came as a complete surprise."
