The Gift

“You don't look much older than fourteen now, you know,” he said almost shyly, and pulled her gently onto the bed with him. She came easily to him, and he slowly unbuttoned her blouse, as she slid off the velvet skirt she'd worn for Christmas. “I love you, Liz,” he whispered into her neck, as she felt her desire for him mount, and his hands run smoothly over her naked shoulders to her waiting breasts and his lips came down on hers firmly.

They lay together for a long time, and then at last they slept, sated and pleased. Theirs was a life filled with the good things they had built and found over the years. Theirs was a love they both respected and cherished. And Liz was thinking about him as she drifted off to sleep in his arms. He held her close to him, as he lay just behind her, his arms tight around her waist, his knees just behind hers, her bottom cupped by his body, his face nestled in her fine blond hair, and they slept together peacefully until morning.

She checked on Annie again as soon as she woke up the next day. Liz was still wrapping her dressing gown around her as she tied it, and entered Annie's room, and saw her there, still sleeping. She didn't look sick, but as soon as Liz approached, she saw that she was deathly pale, and barely breathing. Liz's heart pounded suddenly as she shook her a little bit, and waited for her to stir, but there was only a soft groan, and she didn't wake to her mother's touch, not even when Liz shook her hard, and started to shout her name. Tommy heard her before John and came running in to see what had happened.

“What's wrong, Mom?” It was as though he had sensed something the moment he heard her. He still had his pajamas on, he looked half asleep and his hair was tousled.

“I don't know. Tell Dad to call Dr. Stone. I can't wake Annie up.” She was starting to cry as she said it. She put her face down next to her child's, and she could feel her breathing, but Annie was unconscious, and she could tell instantly that her fever had skyrocketed since the night before. Liz didn't even dare leave her long enough to get the thermometer in the bathroom. “Hurry!” she called after his retreating form, and then she tried sitting her up. She stirred a little this time, and there was a little muffled cry, but she didn't speak or open her eyes, or seem to wake at all. She seemed not to know what was happening around her, and Liz just sat there and held her, crying softly. “Please, baby …please wake up …come on … I love you …Annie, please …” She was crying when John hurried into the room a moment later, with Tommy right behind him.

“Walt said he'll be right over. What happened?” He looked frightened too, although he didn't like to admit to Liz that he was worried. And Tommy was crying softly just behind his father's shoulder.

“I don't know … I think she has an awful fever … I can't wake her up … oh God … oh John …please …” She was sobbing, clutching her little girl, holding her as she sat there, rocking her, but this time Annie didn't even moan. She lay lifeless in her mother's arms, while her whole family watched her.

“She'll be all right. Kids get things like this, and then two hours later, they're fine. You know that.” John tried to hide the fact that he was panicked.

“Don't tell me what I know. I know she's very sick, that's all I know,” Liz snapped nervously at her husband.

“Walt said he'd take her to the hospital if he had to.” But it was already obvious to all of them that he would. “Why don't you get dressed,” John suggested gently. “I'll watch her.”

“I'm not leaving her,” Liz said firmly. She laid Annie down on the bed again, and smoothed her hair, as Tommy watched his sister in terror. She looked almost dead she was so white, and unless you looked very carefully, you couldn't tell if she was breathing. It was hard to believe that she would wake up at any moment, giggling and laughing, and yet he wanted to believe that that could still happen.

“How did she get so sick so fast? She was fine last night,” Tommy said, looking shocked and confused.

“She was sick, but I thought it was nothing.” Liz glared suddenly at John, as though it was his fault that she hadn't asked the doctor to come the night before. It sickened her now to think that they had made love while Annie was slipping into unconsciousness in her bedroom. “I should have made Walt come last night.”

“You couldn't know she'd be like this' John reassured her, and she said nothing.

And then they heard him knocking at the door. John ran to open it and let the doctor in. It was bitter cold outside, and the promised storm had come. It was snowing, and the world outside looked as bleak as the one in Annie's bedroom.

“What happened?” the doctor was asking John as he strode quickly to her bedroom.