The Fourth Child by Jessica Winter (best classic novels TXT) 📕

downand Jane staring down at her hands, what looked like two small toys she was holding.

“Mirela, I set a fire!” she said, laughing, and holding up her toys. “Mirela, we set this place on fire!”

She was saying they had to get out of there, right now, Mirela, let’s go, Mirela, listen, we have to go, and over the sibilant din of the fire sprinklers Mirela called out, “No Mama! No Mama!” and she was laughing, too, laughing along with Jane, and she spun around and around in the rain, tilting her head upward to drink the sky.

Lauren

She had to pee all the time. There was a feverish itchy pressure on her bladder, revolting, more than a distraction; it wasa chronic emergency signaling in a high whine behind her eyes. She would get up in class and take the laminated bathroom passoff the teacher’s desk twice, three times. Even the teachers who liked her most started glaring, rolled their eyes. Sometimesinstead of going to class at all she sat on the toilet in the lavatory outside the studio art classroom, straining, cryingwith the effort of getting out a few drops. She drank no water for one whole day, rinsing and spitting at the sink when shegot desperate, then she changed tacks and drank glass after glass of water, trying to “flush out her system,” which is somethingMom always said to do whenever Lauren or her brothers got sick. She lowered herself into an ice-cold bath, cupping gasps ofwater from the tap. She got up three times when she and Paula went to see Howards End at the Eastern Hills Mall.

“You missed the best part—the poor bastard got murdered by a bookshelf,” Paula said after the movie. They were sitting in the food court having Icees.

“I’ll have to read the book,” Lauren said.

“I know what’s going on with you,” Paula said, wearing her satisfied-piggy smile. “I’ve had what you have.”

“That’s great,” Lauren said.

“I’ll tell you what you should do,” Paula said, “if you tell me how you got it.”

“Got what?” Lauren asked. Everything about her felt red and swollen and hostile.

“You should see a doctor,” Paula said.

“When you flare your nostrils like that you look like a pig,” Lauren said.

 

Los Angeles was burning on the TV in the Brunts’ kitchen when Lauren got up a second time from dinner, passing through thefront room, where Los Angeles burned from another angle on another TV, upstairs to the bathroom. This time, Paula’s motherfollowed her and asked to come in. Mrs. Brunt opened the door on her, sitting on the toilet, jeans around her ankles, andLauren didn’t even care. Mrs. Brunt rummaged in the bottom drawer, reached past the stash of birth control, and came up witha small bottle.

“Lauren, I want you to take one of these now and then one pill every morning until they’re all gone,” Mrs. Brunt said, fillinga glass with water as Lauren buttoned her jeans. “They will turn your pee bright orange—don’t worry about that, it means they’reworking. The pill will mask your symptoms, but it won’t make the infection go away—for that you need to see a doctor for anantibiotic. You will need a full checkup before they can prescribe you anything. Is your mom away?”

Lauren nodded, swallowing the pill with the water. They were sitting cross-legged on the bathroom floor together. Mrs. Brunt’sfirst name was Nicole. Her hair was a shining chestnut brown. She looked so young up close. Her skin was unlined, her cheeksdowny like a cushion.

“Can I call your mom to talk to her about how you’re not feeling well?”

Lauren shook her head.

“If she were here, would this be something you could talk to your mom about?”

Lauren shook her head.

“It’s okay. It’s normal—well, it’s not normal, but it’s common. And, you know, there’s all sorts of reasons you can get oneof these. It doesn’t mean anything all on its own. But you need to see somebody. Can you try to reach your mom in—where isshe?”

“She’s in Colorado with my adopted sister.”

“Honey, listen, I want you to try to get hold of her tonight. It’s, what, a two-hour time difference? Tell her that Paula’smom is going to make you an appointment. I’ll set it up through Rumson, where I work—”

“My mom takes us to Children’s Hospital,” Lauren mumbled.

“Okay, but you wouldn’t go there for this, sweetheart,” Mrs. Brunt said. “I’ll take care of the appointment. I could get youone on very short notice, but you just have to clear it with your mom. You can’t let this go—it won’t get better on its own.It’s nothing to worry about, so long as you get it checked out and treated. You have to do that.”

“Okay.”

“Lauren,” Mrs. Brunt said, “I need to ask you something. Is it possible you could be pregnant?”

Lauren’s vision smeared on the bathroom tiles. The husk. She couldn’t have told anyone how long she stared like that, shecouldn’t have guessed.

“Oh,” Lauren whispered. “I just remembered something. Mrs. Brunt?”

“Yes.”

“I took some of Paula’s birth control pills. I stole them. I’m sorry. The ones in there—I’m sorry.”

Mrs. Brunt pulled Lauren into her lap and hugged her. She rubbed her back. “It’s okay. Next time just ask.”

They heard Paula calling up the stairs. “You’re going to be okay,” Mrs. Brunt whispered to Lauren, kissing her cheek. Sheleft the bathroom. Lauren heard her talking outside in low tones to Paula. She didn’t try to hear what they were saying.

“Lauren, is it okay if I come in for a second?” Paula asked from behind the door.

“Yes,” Lauren murmured from where she was sitting on the tile. Paula entered, knelt down, and hugged her.

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well,” Paula whispered in her ear. “I love you.”

“I’m sorry, too, and I love you, too, Paula,” Lauren whispered back, her tears wetting Paula’s hair, and Paula turned to go.

Mrs. Brunt returned with a cordless phone. Everyone had them nowadays. She called information; she called the front desk ofthe hotel in Colorado; they were put through to Mom’s room.