Another Dawn by Kathryn Cushman Read Free Book Online Page B

house.”
    “It also has a private bath. But, if you’d rather, take my room, then. I’ll sleep in the guest room.”
    “I’m not taking your room. That’s an even dumber idea than putting me in the guest room.”
    “Oh, Dad.”
    Dylan had been lying on the couch, taking in this whole scene with wide-eyed interest. “You want to sleep in my room, Grandpa? It’s got a really cool bedspread. I think you’d like it there.”
    Dad actually smiled at this. “Thanks for the offer, but that bedspread is special just for you. I guess I’ll have to learn to make do in the guest room.”
    I had always tried really hard to shield Dylan from the strained relationship between my father and me, but much more of Dad’s current mood and Dylan would know all. I walked over to the couch and sat beside him. “Come on, honey. Let me run you a nice bath.”
    “I’m tired.”
    “I know you are. You can go to bed right after, okay? It’ll help you relax.”
    “Okay.” He held up his arms for me to carry him, something I knew would fry my dad.
    I scooped him up, casting a glare in the direction of my father as I did. Let him think what he wanted, but I was not going to make my sick child walk to the tub just so he could learn to man up.
    I set Dylan on the toilet lid while I turned on the water and checked the temperature. “Okay, honey, now let’s get you undressed.” I pulled the T-shirt over his head, and as his hair pulled away from his face, I noticed what looked like a rash. “Oh, Dylan!”
    “What?” He looked puzzled.
    “On the side of your face—it just looks like a rash. I don’t see anything on your shoulders or chest. Let me see your back.” I checked his back, his legs, everywhere, and saw no sign of anything. “It’s probably a reaction to those sheets. Grandpa doesn’t use the same good laundry detergent we use. I’m afraid your little body doesn’t know how to respond when confronted with all those chemicals.”
    It made sense that it would bother him, since he’d been lying down for most of the week, either in his bed, or on the couch, but he’d had his race-car pillow with him the whole time. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll run to the store and get the good stuff, huh?”
    “Sure,” Dylan answered, but he had long since tuned me out. He sat in the tub and leaned his head against the wall. “Can I get out and go to bed now?”
    “Really soon, sweetie.” I washed, dried, and clothed him as quickly as possible.
    He fell asleep almost instantly once he climbed into the bed, the little race cars covering both him and Frederick. I sat and watched him sleep for a long time. I wanted to be sure he was okay. And I was in no hurry to deal with my father right now.

Chapter 6
    Early Friday morning I sat in the kitchen planning my outings for the day, enjoying the peace for what little time there was left of it. I was hoping the narcotics would help Dad to sleep in. He needed the rest and I needed the quiet.
    Between Dad’s grumpiness and Dylan’s sickness, I had little hope that today might be anything other than just plain hard. I walked through my room and the adjoining bathroom so I could peek at my son—just to reassure myself, I suppose. The morning sun was shining through the pink curtains and it cast a reddish light across his face. Funny how the pink lace seemed even more distinct now that the bedspread was in such direct contrast. I wondered if Dad had noticed it, too. Probably. I was guessing there would be sterile white blinds in here the next time we came home.
    It concerned me that Dylan’s face seemed so especially red. I supposed it was a combination of the glow from the curtains and a bit of lingering fever. Still, he slept soundly. He could do just fine without me for a little longer, so I tiptoed out to the kitchen determined to enjoy what few minutes of quiet I had left.
    Thump. Thump-thump. Thump.
    The sound of my father’s walker banging across the guest room—or perhaps into the