An American Promise (Book 2)

Chapter 14

"Letting go means to come to the realization that some people are a part of your history, but not a part of your destiny."

- Steve Maraboli

Emilia sat next to her daughter all morning, bathing her forehead and speaking quietly to her. Finally around half past two after Jane seemingly tried to forcibly eject the contents of her stomach, Emilia tok her to see Doctor Dirkson.

Doctor Dirkson lived a few streets away in a small brick house. His maid, a thin, weak looking girl lead them into his office.

"Yes, how may I help you?" Doctor Dirkson asked, looking at Emilia and her child.

"Doctor, my daughter is ill and I just wanted to be certain that it's nothing more than a fever."

"Of course, please have a seat. How old is your daughter?"
"Two," Emilia sat down, Jane on her lap, looking miserable.

"And has she been vomiting?"
"Yes, since last night."

"May I?" The doctor reached for Jane and Emilia nodded. He took her very gently and felt her forehead, frowning.

Emilia watched as he examined her and nodded in satisfaction.

"How long has she been ill?" He asked.
"It started last night."
"Hmm, it seems to be no more than a fever but if she develops a rash in the next few days please come back. I fear it may be Chicken Pox."

"That isn't fatal though?" Emilia asked, her stomach dropping.

"No no, but it will not be enjoyable for either of you. Any rashes please come.

"All right, thank you."

And your name?"
"Mrs. Emilia Fisher, my daughter is Jane."

"Thank you, I hope she gets better."
"Thank you," Emilia left the doctor's house and returned to Mrs. Webb's where the lady in question was sat at the dining room table, reading.

"Emilia, how is Jane?"
"The doctor said it may be Chicken Pox."

"Oh dear, is there nothing he can do about it?"
"He told me to come back if any rashes develop."
"Oh my, I do hope she's all right. Would you like me to fix some soup for you?"

"No thank you, I think she should just sleep for now."

"Very well."

Emilia went up to her room, taking off Jane's coat and shoes and changing her back into her nightgown.

"Mama," Jane rubbed her eyes, the tears welling up in them.

"Yes dear? How are you feeling?" Emilia sat down, tucking her daughter into bed.

"Cold."

"I know darling, we'll just have to keep you warm."

"Story?" Jane asked, wiping her tears away.

"You want a story? Well, all right. One moment, let me get the book."

When she had left England, Emilia had brought along a book of folklore that her mother had given to Emilia for her sixth Christmas. As a little girl, she had always enjoyed them and ever since their arrival in America she had been reading some of them to Jane.

"Which one shall we read today?"

"Fishy," Jane said.

"All right," Emilia settled down onto the bed, opening the book to one of Jane's favourite stories about the Fisherman and his wife.