Good Man

Sometimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel.
- Author Unknown



June rolled in alongside the beginnings of another foggy summer. Every morning, only the tops of the skyscrapers in San Francisco could be see from above the fog, like a city among the clouds. But then, as soon as the sun was high enough in the sky to warm the earth below, the fog dispersed as if it had never been there. As for the weather, it was cool and mild at the same time, thanks in part to the breeze coming off the bay and up the ranges which overlook the Northeast side of the valley in which San Francisco Bay is located. And it is there, among those ranges, where Caroline's home in Piedmont has sat since it was first built back in 1986.

With the late morning sun seeping through her bedroom windows but not far enough to reach her bed, Caroline rolled over as effortlessly as the fog and bumped into a soft but solid mass. Lifting her head, she peered down at the stirring form of Gerard, burrowed beneath her bed sheets and muttering something incoherently.

The corners of her lips twitching upward, the small smile she wore felt hollow and it was possible that's exactly how it appeared on her face, which was no doubt puffy from sleep.

Getting up out of bed, Caroline quietly padded toward the bathroom to do her business. While washing her hands, she glimpsed at her reflection briefly before looking away in search of a towel to dry her hands. It was after a few moments of rubbing her digits against the soft cotton of the towel that she slipped from the bathroom to find Gerard was still asleep. So, tiptoeing out of her room, she walked gently down the hallway, looking over the railing at the foyer below, before continuing on by the stairwell to the cul de sac of three bedrooms and one bathroom. Two of said bedrooms happened to belong to her children, whilst the third, which overlooked the front of the house and was kitty-cornered to the bathroom, belonged to Estelle.

Today, she was occupying it.

Poking her head into Mikey's bedroom first, Caroline smiled when she saw he was up already and playing quietly on his floor with his Spiderman action figure and a hard, plastic Tonka dump truck.

"Hey, pumpkin."

Little Michael Ryan looked up at his mom with his own pair of sleepy eyes and a wide smile. "Hi, mommy," the towheaded child. "Wanna play with me?"

Caroline tilted her head and smirked. "Maybe later. Mommy needs to wake up a bit more before she can do anything involving hand-eye coordination."

Mikey just looked at his mom, blankly. He had no clue what hand-eye coordination meant.

"How about I make some pancakes for breakfast, hmm? Does that sound yummy?" Her son nodded his head and stood up, still holding Spiderman, and walking over to his mom. Caroline took his hand and they walked out of the bedroom just as Estelle came padding, sleepily, out of her bedroom. "Morning, sunshine."

Estelle's dark eyes drifted over to her stepmother, and she smiled. "Morning," she replied as she disappeared into the bathroom.

"I'm gonna make pancakes," Caroline called out through the door.

"Okay, I'll be down in a bit," was the 16-year-old's answer.

Caroline went into Chloe's room next to find the little girl, who was now sleeping in a toddler's bed like her brother, laying on her side, sucking her thumb and twirling her hair. Caroline crouched down beside her little girl's bed to see that the two-year-old was slightly red in the face and had tears in her eyes.

"Mommy," she cried. "It hurt." Chloe took her thumb out of her mouth and touched her throat. Nervous, Caroline placed the tips of her fingers on the same spot and Chloe, clearly panicked about whatever was ailing her, began to cry louder.

Growing more nervous, Caroline pressed the palm of her hand against her daughter's forehead and felt the girl had a very high fever. Letting go of Mikey's hand, Caroline scooped Chloe up and carried her out of the bedroom and down the hall to her bedroom. The child's crying officially woke Gerard up, who was mildly startled by the noise.

Walking right into her bathroom which had the better lighting, Caroline propped her daughter on the countertop beside the sink, turned on said lighting and tilted Chloe's head upward as she opened the girl's mouth.

"Let mommy see," she spoke calmly to her daughter. Caroline stuck her thumb into Chloe's mouth and held her tongue down to peer at her throat. Frowning, she retracted her thumb. "Swallow for mommy, okay, sweetie?"

Chloe, whimpering, nodded and tried swallowing but it appeared to be a bit of a struggle, causing her to start crying some more. Caroline frowned, worry creating creases in her forehead, as she peered back into her little girl's mouth, holding her tongue down again with the thumb from one hand while the other felt the sides of her neck, under the jaw.

Gerard came into the bathroom at that moment and looked between mother and daughter with curiosity. "What's wrong with Chloe?"

"Her throat's swollen and she has a fever. She can't swallow." Caroline looked up briefly at Gerard. "Feel right here." She gestured to the side of Chloe's neck.

Gerard did so. "It's hard."

"I think it's swollen glands." Caroline was managing her fear incredibly well as she reached to the side of Chloe and washed her hands real quickly. "I'm taking her to the hospital."

"Which one?"

"Saint Francis Memorial. It's in the city, a little further away, but it's where the kids were born, where Mike was brought. Plus, Giselle works there. I just feel more at home there. Anywhere else and I'd go insane."

Scooping Chloe back up, she tucked one arm under her daughter's bottom and the other around her back, cupping the underside of her head.

"It's okay, baby. Mommy's gonna take you to see a doctor who will take very good care of you."

In response, all Chloe continued to do was whimper and cry as Caroline carried her out of the bathroom. Gerard turned the lights off after her as he followed the pair out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Estelle was stepping out of the other bathroom and Mikey was moving closer to his big sister.

"What's wrong?" Estelle wondered.

"I think Chloe has Strep throat. I can't be sure, though, so I'm gonna take her to Saint Francis."

"Do you want me to go?" Estelle looked briefly at Gerard, ignored his smile of 'Good Morning' and looked back at her stepmother.

Caroline shook her head. "No, stay here with Mikey, okay? I'll call when we get to the hospital and know what's going on."

"Okay," the teenager nodded. She then gestured to Gerard. "Is he going with you?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"I'll drive. If you want, sit in the back with Chloe and keep her calm," he suggested.

Caroline liked the idea. "Yeah, that sounds fine to me."



Within the half hour Gerard was pulling Caroline's jag into the hospital's parking garage. After getting Chloe unhooked from her car seat, Caroline carried her toward the elevator with Gerard trailing behind her with her purse in his hands. She was still in her pajamas and didn't care. In fact, so was Gerard. They all were. Caroline's thought process was a narrow tunnel with a single goal at the end.

Get to Saint Francis, find doctor.

Sitting in the emergency room and waiting for someone to call them in, Caroline avoided the gazes from people who recognized her as she pressed her lips to Chloe's feverish forehead. She was doing her best to ignore anyone but her daughter; humming to her, assuring her everything would be okay in hushed, calming tones. Caroline was so engrossed in concentrating on Chloe that she didn't even know if Gerard was still around; if he was sitting nearby in the waiting room or if he'd wandered off to...wherever. She was, however, growing increasingly aware of the murmurs around her involving her name and her band's name every so often.

Peering up for a brief moment, her hazel eyes looked over the top of her daughter's head and held the gaze of a young man across from her, sitting beside a girlfriend or wife or whoever she was to him. The pair gave her a knowing smile of recognition and a nod, each. Caroline didn't bother replying in any way, shape or form.

Well, the mild scowl she wore could possibly be considered a kind of reply that basically conveyed the messages of, 'Now is not the time to bother me' and 'So help me God, I will skin you alive.'

Shit like that.

They frowned in return and Caroline went back to pressing her lips against Chloe's forehead when she heard a meek voice at her left.

"Uh...em, 'scuse me? C-can I--?"

"What?" Caroline snapped, looking up and to her left to peer into the face of a thirty-something woman with a cast on her right arm.

The woman seemed stunned at first by Caroline's sharp tone, but quickly brushed it off and pushed forward. "I...I was wondering if you could sign my cast. I just love your music."

A heavy sigh of frustration oozing past Caroline's lips like molten lava, she flashed the cast-wearing woman a glare of disbelief and slight repulsion. "I appreciate your adulation, but does it really look like I'm in the mood or position to care right now? I got a two-year-old who has a high fever and can barely swallow that I'm trying to console right now, so could you be a considerate individual and just walk away?"

Caroline had tried to be as calm and gentle as possible. She tried, she really did. But such would not be the case. The cast-wearing woman looked a mix between sheepish and offended but, honestly, Caroline couldn't care less. The only person who mattered or deserved her attention at all was her little girl who was burrowing her head into her mother's chest for comfort.

Cast Woman retreated and sat back down wherever it was she was sitting in the cul de sac of chairs that was the waiting room when Caroline heard the snickers from the couple across from her, which included the words 'conceited bitch' seemingly thrown in for good measure.

And that was it.

Caroline was fed up.

Her temper rising like her daughter's temperature, Caroline snapped her head back up and shot daggers at the couple with her eyes as she cupped her right hand over Chloe's only exposed ear.

"Conceited bitch?" Caroline repeated, almost amused, though very angry. "Am I a conceited bitch because I wanna be left the fuck alone?" she practically growled. "I am so sick and tired of you thoughtless assholes thinking it's okay to invade my privacy and expect me to be fine and dandy about it. Just because you know who I am and what I do does not give you the right to cross the line. How would you like it if I got in your face or called you names when you're trying to be attentive to your family or friends, hmm? Would you like that? Put yourself in my goddamn shoes for one motherfucking second and walk a mile in them. It's not all sunshine and butterflies. Now, leave me alone to take care of my sick daughter or so help me God..."

Trailing off on that note, Caroline was thankful when a nurse approached her, having heard the tail end of her tongue-lashing.

"A doctor can see you and your daughter now, Mrs. Pritchard."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Caroline closed her eyes for a moment and stood up with Chloe in her arms. "Thank you," she muttered to the nurse who seemed to be sympathetic toward her.

Mother and daughter were led through double doors and shown to an examining room where Caroline was able to place Chloe on a hospital bed that was more like a gurney and for a brief second, she felt a wave of panic rip through her.

For that second, she was reminded of the last time she had to witness someone she cared about on a gurney.

Mike; being placed upon one by two paramedics when they arrived to the Ferry Building, outside the Slanted Door restaurant when he'd been shot and killed. She could still see his lifeless body laying on the gurney, and the white sheet pulled up, covering him from head to toe. She remembered the blood that soaked through the sheet in the places he'd been shot while police officers were placing Dean Calkins in one squad her and her in another; to take the monster of a man to jail and to escort Caroline to the hospital.

It was a night that would haunt her dreams, nightmares and daydreams forever.

"So, what seems to be the problem?" An Indian doctor stepped into the room at that moment, looking down at a clipboard and then smiling between the mother-daughter pair, bringing Caroline out of her reverie.

The name on his hospital ID badge, which was clipped to his white coat pocket, read Rajiv Prasannakumar, MD. He'd mostly likely arrived to the United States from somewhere in India to attend med school and had practiced in the country ever since, judging by his somewhat faded accent and the his weathered face; showing he was getting up there in age.

"I think she has Strep throat," Caroline answered.

Dr. P-whatever -- his surname was too confusing to remember -- stepped up to Chloe and placed his hands on either side of her throat, feeling the swollen glands. "Does it hurt when you swallow, honey?" the doctor asked Chloe. When she nodded her little head, he then opened the girl's mouth and peered inside with help from his little handheld light.

"Well?" Caroline inquired, wringing her hands.

"It's not Strep," he deduced. "It's tonsillitis." Gesturing to Caroline, he had her join him at his side and then pointed at her daughter's swollen tonsils with his light. "See the white spots on her tonsils, and how inflamed they are? With Strep it would be just an infection caused by bacteria that causes the tonsils to swell and become redder. Basically a sore throat. With tonsillitis, the tonsils become enlarged and are spotted with a white, yellow or gray substance."

"Okay, so...what happens now?"

"Well, if she still finds swallowing so painful that eating is difficult, try serving liquids and soft foods, like nutritious soups, milkshakes, smoothies, popsicles, or ice cream. Make sure that she drinks lots of fluids and gets plenty of rest, and take her temperature regularly. Use a nonprescription pain reliever, such as acetaminophen or ibuprofen, for throat pain."

Caroline blinked, nodded and considered all this. "So, how did she come down with this? She was fine last night when I put her to bed."

"Well, all forms of tonsillitis are contagious. It usually spreads from person to person by contact with the throat or nasal fluids of someone who is already infected," the doctor explained. "Has Chloe been near any other children lately?"

Caroline thought it over and frowned. "I don't know. Her and her brother don't belong in day care and there really aren't any kids their age they play with. They pretty much just have each other."

"No neighbors? It doesn't have to be kids their age. They can be older; teenagers."

"Well, I think my nephew had a bit of a cold last week. He's twelve." Caroline was referring to Frankito, who was technically her step-nephew.

"Do you know the extent of his cold?"

Caroline shook her head. "I dunno. He lives with his mother and his father, who's married to my sister, and only has him usually on weekends. I don't get to see him all the time. Chloe hasn't seen him lately either."

"It's possible, then, that someone served as a sort of carrier for the virus. Things like these can be tricky sometimes. All forms of tonsillitis are contagious. It usually spreads from person to person by contact with the throat or nasal fluids of someone who is already infected. Possibly your nephew," the doctor further explained. "Just be sure to keep Chloe's drinking glasses and eating utensils separate, and wash them in hot, soapy water. All family members should wash their hands frequently. After this bout of tonsillitis, throw out her toothbrush and replace it with a new one."

Caroline nodded obediently. "Is there anything else I should know, or do?"

"If you want to prevent further bouts of tonsillitis for Chloe or to prevent others from getting it, avoid letting her near anyone who already has tonsillitis or a sore throat. Make sure to practice good hand-washing habits, and teach your child to do the same."

"I already do that," she informed, brushing a hand through her daughter's hair.

"I'll write you a prescription for antibiotics that should take care of the inflammation and spotting on her tonsils. But be careful to keep watch of who's sick. If Chloe gets frequent bouts of tonsillitis -- more than 5 to 7 times during a 12-month period -- or repeat infections over several years, a tonsillectomy may be considered to remove the tonsils altogether."

Caroline absorbed all this as best as she could. It was overwhelming trying to take in new about her own health when she was sick, let alone when her children were. But their health was more important to her than her own, so she was more attentive to doctors' suggestions.

"Thank you so much. I was getting so scared."

Dr. Prasannakumar smiled and patted her on the arm. "Don't be. Children get sick all the time. This will not be the last time for Chloe. Humans are never completely immune from one virus." Removing his hand from Caroline's arm and looking at the two-year-old, he patted Chloe's knee and smiled at her. "You be a good girl for your mother, now. Take your medicine and you get to have ice cream." Returning his gaze to Caroline, he jested, "Children love having ice cream. It's the one thing that makes having tonsillitis worthwhile."

Caroline laughed a little in response. Thank God her little girl would be okay.



After receiving a prescription for medication to give Chloe, Caroline found Gerard waiting for them in the waiting room.

"Where'd you go?" she questioned, carrying Chloe in her arms; the child's head laying on her mother's shoulder.

He lifted his hand up and presented a pink teddy bear, holding a tiny balloon that said Get Well Soon on it. "The gift shop," he replied. "Here you go, Chloe."

Chloe lifted her head and reached one of her small hands out, taking the bear and holding onto it for dear life as she quietly laid her head back down on her mommy's shoulder once more.

"She'd say thank you, but her throat's still a bit sore."

Gerard smiled. "It's all good. I'm sure I heard her say thanks, mentally," he spoke, tapping at his temple.

Caroline looked down at her delicate wrist watch. It was nearly noon and she hadn't called Estelle yet to let her know what was up and if Chloe was okay. Juggling the girl in one arm and pulling her phone out of her pocket with her free hand, she called home.

"Hello?" came Estelle's voice.

"It's me, Stella. Chloe's gonna be okay. She's got tonsillitis. The doctor said it tends to be contagious so I want you to call up Uncle Billie for me, and ask if him and Aunt Adie will watch Mikey for a couple days. I don't want him to get sick too while I'm taking care of Chloe."

"Alright."

"We're gonna make a pit stop at CVS before we come home to pick up the medication, so we should be home in about an hour or so. In that time, do me another favor and pack a few days' worth of clothes and toys and Mikey's toothbrush in his mini suitcase if you will."

"Yeah, sure thing. How many days?"

"Uh, three should be fine. Three outfits. Pajamas, socks, underwear. The usual."

"Okay, will do. Tell Chloe I love her."

"Will do," Caroline repeated with a smile in her voice. "See you soon, hon."

''Kay, see ya."

Both hung up and Caroline smiled at Gerard. "I love that girl," she muttered, referring to Estelle. "She's like a little mom with Mikey and Chloe."



As the three headed through the parking garage, Caroline was surprised to hear two familiar voices call out to her.

"Care! Hey!"

For a split second, Caroline thought it was another asshole who knew who she was by what she did, but then the recognition of the voices sunk in. Turning around and looking behind her, she saw Giselle, with her belly as big as a house, and wearing her doctor's scrubs and white coat. Beside her, was Ellis, dressed impeccably as usual and carrying that same Berkin bag from Christmas.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Giselle called out.

"I should be asking you the same thing," Caroline retorted. "Shouldn't you be on maternity leave by now?"

"Friday's my last day."

Caroline's gaze shifted to Ellis. "Why are you here?" She didn't mean for the question to come out as harsh as it sounded, and winced on the inside.

Ellis, slightly insulted by the other woman's tone, replied simply, "We're heading to lunch together."

"Ah, well, I hope you enjoy your meals. I gotta get home. Chloe's got tonsillitis. I'm gonna have Billie Joe and Adrienne take Mikey for a couple of days so he doesn't get sick, too."

"How come you didn't consider Giselle or Tre for that?" Ellis queried, a distantly cold look in her eyes.

"Uh, possibly because tonsillitis is contagious," Caroline answered as if it were common knowledge; which, for the most part, it was. "Giselle doesn't need to get sick or risk the health of her child this far in her pregnancy. No matter how far she'd be, for that matter. Not to mention, she's not in the position to run after a toddler either. She needs to be taking it easy. Take it from a mother of two who knows these things."

Smiling to Giselle and saying goodbye to her, she all but ignored Ellis as she walked off toward her jag with Gerard.

"Why's she with him?" Ellis wondered allowed, referring to Gerard, once the threesome were gone, and she was heading to her car with her biological sister.

Giselle shrugged. "They're friends, and if it's more than that, then it's not our place to interfere. It's good she moving on. That's what I care about."

Ellis, too shrugged.



Finally arriving home a little more than an hour later, Gerard followed behind Caroline, who was once again carrying her daughter. He was carrying the bag from CVS where they'd picked up Chloe's prescription as well as Caroline's purse. They both noticed Billie Joe's car in the driveway and as they walked into the house, they moved through the foyer and toward the kitchen where they heard the 41-year-old's voice.

Billie Joe was standing with his back against the kitchen sink while Estelle sat at the table with Mikey. He turned his head to the left when he saw the approaching figures in his peripheral vision. He smiled at Caroline and Chloe, but upon seeing Gerard, he felt confused.

"Hey," he muttered to the younger man.

"Hi, Beej," came Gerard's answer.

As Caroline informed Estelle that it'd be best if she headed home to her mother's with Billie Joe so she didn't get sick either, the teen nodded and went upstairs to pack her overnight bag. As Gerard offered to take Chloe upstairs, not minding to be around the girl because, according to him, he'd already had his tonsils out years earlier so there was no threat in him getting sick, Billie Joe turned to Caroline and placed a hand on the small of her back.

Tilting his head and studying her profile as she pulled the medicine out of the CVS bag, he whispered, "Are you and Gerard a thing?"

Caroline shrugged. "I'm not sure. I don't think so," she replied honestly. She'd never been able to really hide anything from him. He'd always been such a great friend. "He's a good guy."

"I've no doubt about that, but I don't want you to go putting yourself in any position of getting yourself hurt."

"Are you worried that Gee's gonna break my heart?"

Billie Joe smirked ruefully and shook his head. "No," he kissed her temple, platonically. "I'm afraid you'll break your own."



In regard to the chapter title:

virulent; adjective 1 (of a disease or poison) extremely severe or harmful in its effects. 2 (of a pathogen, especially a virus) highly infective. 3 bitterly hostile.