Chapter Thirteen

Wendy was beside herself with confusion. How could Pete have left the flower on my pillow if it was just a dream? Was he the one who left the lily for me a few days ago... The one I thought was a gift from Evelyn?

The questions silently plagued her all through Saturday morning breakfast.

"Wendy, are you feeling alright?" her mom asked, concerned. "You look a little flushed."

"I'm fine, Mom," Wendy coughed, distracted by her bewildering thoughts.

Mrs. Darling walked over to Wendy and put the back of her hand to Wendy's forehead.

"You're burning up," she announced. "I'm taking your temperature."

Mrs. Darling busied herself, searching for the thermometer when Wendy's father walked into the room, a serious look shadowing his face.

"I just received a phone call from Dr. Grant. The blood tests results have come back. Wendy's neutrophil count has dropped dramatically. He wants us to take her to the local hospital right away. They will decide from there if they will transfer her to Woodland Children's Hospital."

Mr. Darling watched the scene unfolding in front of him, realizing that something was very wrong.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking at Wendy, and then Mrs. Darling.

"She feels warm, I'm going to take her temperature."

He walked to Wendy and gently touched her cheek, "You do feel warm, honey. How do you feel?"

"I feel fine," Wendy responded, mustering up a tired smile.

The truth was, she didn't feel fine. She felt warm and dizzy, confused and afraid. Her chest felt tight and it was difficult to gather a full breath. And she was worried... Not only because of her apparent fever and blood count, but because her latest dream of Pete had left behind a remnant on her pillow.

What's going on with me? she worried.

Mrs. Darling held the tympanic thermometer to Wendy's ear, "103.3," her mom exclaimed. "Let's get dressed and head to the hospital," she said to Wendy, trying to keep the fear from her voice.

Wendy left the room to change out of her pajamas and her parents called the boys to fill them in on what was going on.

"The doctor wants us to bring Wendy to the hospital right away," Mr. Darling explained.

"Why?" John asked. "Is it serious?"

"Well, it can be. Your neutrophils are white blood cells that help your body fight infection. When the count drops, it means that you do not have as many cells as your body needs for them to do their job properly. It means that Wendy is susceptible to infection right now, and that could make her very sick."

"Do we need to take her to the hospital for kids? The one that is far away?" asked Michael.

"No, we are going to the hospital closest to us. The doctors there will decide what to do," his father said, ruffling his hair to help ease the tense mood.

"Wendy," her mom called up the stairs urgently. "Don't bother packing, we'll come back later to grab your things. Let's just get going, honey. We need to get you there so they can figure out what is going on. They need to get some antibiotics started."

Mrs. Darling was normally a very calming presence, and to see her anxious made the boys visibly nervous.

"It's alright, boys," Mr. Darling reassured them. "Everything will be fine."

When Wendy finished dressing, they made their way to the car and drove to the hospital in silence. Once they arrived, the Emergency Room transported her to the Intensive Care Unit to get settled.

A friendly nurse came in a short while later and explained that Wendy was going to be placed in neutropenic precautions, "What this means is that we are going to take preventative measures in the hope of avoiding more infection. Wendy's elevated temp means she already has something brewing, so we're going to start antibiotics and fluids right away to help fight the infection and keep her hydrated."

The nurse turned back to Wendy, "I also noticed that you have a weak cough. Can you tell me when that started?"

Wendy shrugged, "Maybe a couple of days ago, I'm not really sure. But it hasn't been bad."

The nurse made a note in her portable computer and continued on. "Your respirations are on the rapid side, so we are going to give you a small amount of oxygen through a nasal cannula that will flow directly into your nose. There is also a neutropenic diet guideline we will have you follow. Plus, I'll need you to wear this," she added, handing Wendy a small blue mask.

She then produced a menu, "Don't worry," she smiled. "You'll still get to choose your own meals, they will just come from a recommended food list."

Wendy took the menu, but didn't smile back. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. Her head was spinning, and she couldn't help but think of Pete. She hated sleeping in the hospital, with the nurses and doctors coming in to check on her all hours of the night. She would never be able to sleep! And, this wasn't even the hospital she was used to.

"Will I get to go to Woodland Children's Hospital?" she asked the nurse.

"We'll have to wait and see what the doctor says," she smiled. "I know you would rather be there because you are more familiar with it, but right now we need to do what is best for you. And if that's what is best, then that is where you'll go. The doctor may be a couple of hours yet. He has a few patients before you, but he is in-house," the nurse added and then left the room.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Darling apologized, hugging Wendy tightly. "I didn't know you were sick."

"I didn't know either," Wendy admitted. "The temperature had to have just started today. I have been feeling fine, I swear," she said, hugging her mother back.

"It's going to be okay now. We're in the right place," her dad promised, forever the optimist.

"What about my things?" Wendy asked.

"Well, now that you're settled in, I'll run home to get them. If the doctor will be a couple of hours, I should be able to make it back with time to spare."

He walked over to Wendy and gave her a big hug. "I love you, kiddo. Everything will be fine," he said and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you, too, Daddy," she smiled back.

"Call me if the doctor gets here before me," Mr. Darling said, giving his wife a quick kiss before leaving the room. "I'll see you soon, boys."

The drive home felt tedious, and Mr. Darling took every shortcut he could think of. He hated the thought of leaving his sick child, and wanted to get back as quickly as possible.

He made it home in record time, and flew into the house to grab some of Wendy's belongings.

I'll bring enough of her things to last the next couple of days, he thought to himself.

He made sure to grab her iPad and charger that she had lying on the kitchen counter, and then ran up to her room to grab a few more items.

When he walked into her room, he felt uneasy. He couldn't put his finger on it, but the room seemed different to him somehow. He felt like he was snooping around his daughter's private domain, and tried to shake the nervousness that had come over him.

Grabbing her tote bag, he started to put her personal items inside. He was just about to leave the room when he noticed the mural on the wall. Walking up to get a closer look, he marveled at Wendy's talent. He would have to tell her how beautiful her painting was when he got back to the hospital.

He studied the detail she had painstakingly used to paint the pictures and was impressed with how she blended all of the colors together to create what he thought was a truly amazing work of art.

Gently, he ran his fingers over the colorful mountains and trees, and lingered over the soft waves of the blue water. He smiled at the sight of the mermaid she had created and admired the lion with its tangled tuft of hair.

"This is amazing," he whispered to himself in awe.

Finally, he noticed Wendy had painted herself. It was undeniably a self portrait, with her long sun kissed hair, and big trusting blue eyes. She wore a familiar smile, like the one she used to wear before she had gotten sick. Mr. Darling wiped a tear from his eye, looking forward to the day he would see her happy like that again.

And what was she doing? Was she flying? Yes, she was! Mr. Darling laughed in spite of himself.

What a strange scene to paint, he mused.

But she wasn't alone. There was someone with her.

He looked closely at the boy who held tightly onto Wendy's hand. There was something vaguely familiar about him. His tousled, sandy blond hair and brilliant emerald green eyes. And that smile... He would never forget that smile as long as he lived.

Pete.

Wait... What?!

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