SIERRA'S LEONE

CHICKENPOX

Leone's cries made Sierra and Jonas leap out of their beds.

Sierra lifted the baby, "oh my God, he's so hot."

Jonas touched the infant's forehead, "he's feverish. Wait, I'll get a wet towel." Leone carried on crying; he agitated in Sierra's arms. It seemed as though the little boy wanted to break free from her grasp, yet his stare begged for help.

Only when they arrived in the clear light of the living did Sierra see a familiar red dot on Leone's nose.

"He has chickenpox."

"How do you know that?" Jonas asked as he dabbed the wet towel on Leone's face.

"Look at that dot. I bet he has more of those under his pajamas.

Sierra walked to the couch where she laid Leone and undressed him. The operation confirmed Sierra's doubts.

"What can we do?"

Sierra got up and went to grab one of the baby guides she had.

"Okay, it says here, it will last about a week. And that adults who've already had it are safe. We're good, Jonas. I just have to take care of Leone until it passes," the woman sighed, "I guess I can't go to work."

"Hey Sierra, remember I'm here to help," the man said while pointing at himself, "go to work. I'll take care of him."

"Jonas, you're busy too; you didn't come for this."

"I know you don't like to hear this, Sierra, but Leone is my son, and his well-being is essential. You can't expect me to sit and watch. I wish you wouldn't see me as a mere sperm donor."

The woman blinked in dismay at the unwarranted but violent sentence, "I don't see you that way, Jonas."

"You know, I would have been with Leone from day one if Cecile didn't keep him a secret."

"Jonas, I don't want to argue."

"Then stop acting as though you're alone on this ship. Leave Leone to me, go back to sleep."

Jonas snoozed his soft a reassuring voice and sported an authoritative one Sierra never heard.

She had a split second to follow up with either words or action, but Jonas scooped Leone and returned to the baby's room.

Sierra hurried behind them, "Jonas, I-."

The man sat on the rocking chair and began to cradle the baby. It was too late to go to the pharmacy. All they could do for the night was stay with him.

"There's no need for both of us to be up, Sierra. Go back to sleep," this time, Jonas used his usual tone of voice.

Sierra resigned in front of the scene and Jonas's will, "call me if you need any help."

The man just nodded and continued to rock Leone asleep until the fatigue got the best of him.

In the morning, Sierra found man and child as she had left them. Since she was up early, she washed her face, picked a random jogger and sweater, and went to the pharmacy.

When she came back, they were up.

"Where were you?"

The question rang oddly to Sierra's ears, who felt as though the man scolded her for coming in late, "yet she answered, I thought I could get something for Leone from the pharmacy. The day won't be easy. Chickenpox is itchy."

The day was effectively long and the hardest for the baby, who could not express his pain in words.

Though they knew it was just a matter of days, the roommates took Leone for a check-up.

"She's here again," Jonas heard the receptionist say to announce them.

The doctor agreed to see them without an appointment. Doctor Peron confirmed the diagnosis and gave a prescription for soothing creams.

"Excuse me, can I use your bathroom," Jonas asked.

"Yes, it's down the hall," doctor Peron answered before resuming his explantations to Sierra, who listened while nodding her head religiously.

Jonas left the room and returned to the welcome desk.

"Eh, excuse me, you said something earlier that caught my attention."

The receptionist straightened up in her chair. It was not every day a handsome man stopped by her desk to chat, "really, what was it?"

"You said, and I believe you referred to miss Lennox; she's here again. Does miss Lennox come here often?"

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry about that. You see, we have mothers who come here 24h after the child got a burn, three days after he fell off a high chair, and sometimes a week for other accidents. But miss Lennox debarks for anything from a mosquito bite to a runny nose. She worries far too much compared to the average. She must have spent a reasonable five hundred euros in appointments during the first two months she had Leone in her care. Please accept my apology. I didn't think what I said could be misinterpreted."

Jonas felt relieved but also very guilty to have suspected Sierra of anything.

The receptionist had nothing to gain in defending Sierra the way she did. The woman was outside of Sierra's social circle. Thus her opinion on Sierra as a caregiver was neutral.

"Thank you for the clarifications. At this moment, Sierra came out with Leone. The three went home.

Sierra's return home allowed the man to do the minor tasks he neglected. When he finished, Jonas found Sierra reading to Leone. The boy who usually tapped on every page with delight listened.

"Hey little, fella."

Leone barely looked at his father.

"He has no appetite, poor thing. I only drank his bottle," Sierra said.

As Sierra and the doctor explained, the ordeal lasted a week. The roommates were relieved to see Leone giggling and being mischievous again.

The caregivers discovered other aspects of parenting but also different sides of each other's personality.

Sierra no longer saw Jonas like lukewarm water. The man could boil when pushed. On his side, Jonas confirmed Sierra was a true mother hen.

Yes, she was a little disorganized at times, but who would not be in her situation?

Raising a child alone was not easy. Some people were negligent, mostly when the child was not theirs.

People portrayed Sierra as Leone's babysitter. None acknowledged her as anything else. Jonas was surprised when a couple approached him to ask how much he paid Sierra. They had seen her at the park and on other occasions. They believed she would be a great nanny for their daughter Clotilde.

Vexed by the interpretation, Jonas replied, "she's not a babysitter. She's his mother."

The statement was right for the man whose views on Sierra's status began to shift.