Sore

Wisdom teeth, thinks Therese, definitely don't make you wise.

Not that she ever believed that, anyway. But for the pain she's going through, they have to do something besides make her chew for hours on her fingers and hold her sore, swollen cheeks. She's a little old for getting them in - usually they start around age 18 or so, and Therese had felt some slight pain here and there - but they're definitely coming in with a vengeance now. And maybe there's a reason, she thinks, that most of your teeth come in when you're a baby. Because this is miserable and she hasn't been able to do anything but snuggle with Carol and whimper and bury her hot face in Carol's chest.

Carol, to her credit, is patient. She smooths Therese's hot forehead with cool hands and croons over her. "Oh, my poor darling. And I suppose they can't be pulled until they're fully out, is that it? Poor baby, you're feeling so sore, aren't you."

Therese had come to Carol's with the hope of a nice weekend away. The city has been so rushed and warm with a sudden early spring, and Carol's home is breezy, cool, calm. She'd been so excited to get in the car and drive out with Carol that she hadn't noticed the pain and tenderness beginning in the back of her mouth until she was chewing on chicken at dinner and felt a sharp pain where before, there was only smooth skin.

Carol had been sympathetic. "Oh, sweetie. I remember getting my wisdom teeth in. It's not pleasant. We'll get you an aspirin and that should help. Take care chewing."

But the aspirin, while it had helped a little, hadn't taken away the growing pressure and pain that escalated sharply after dinner. Therese, sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by records, had suddenly clapped a hand to her cheek and whimpered, and Carol had made the decision that she would have more aspirin and an early night to bed. But not even being securely changed and cuddled and nursed to sleep had helped. Therese's mouth had hurt too much to nurse, and, usually not someone who whined, she'd done so in frustration, butting her head softly into Carol's chest and sighing loudly.

"It still hurts? Oh, my darling. Shh, shh," and Carol had rocked her. Not the best way to fall asleep, and certainly not what Therese wanted, but the slow rocking and Carol's lovely contralto voice humming over her head had calmed her down enough to fall asleep. And she had slept the whole night beside Carol, not even waking up needing her diaper changed as she usually did in the middle of the night.

But now it's the next morning and Therese is running a fever.

"It hurts," she whimpers, her head aching and her cheeks red and hot. Carol, having gone through a less dramatic version of this when Rindy was a baby, is patient.

"We'll get you a nice cool cloth for your forehead, sweetheart."

"I wish it would stop," Therese whines, and Carol strokes her hair, holding Therese against her chest securely.

"It will stop. It won't hurt like this forever; the teeth just have to cut through. Poor darling. I've got some more aspirin for you; that will help with the fever." Carol pats Therese's bottom. "And I think a dry diaper will help you, too."

Therese turns her face into Carol's shoulder and starts to cry, and Carol pats her back soothingly. "Oh, tooth pain is the worst, isn't it? It just doesn't let up. My poor girl. How about a nice bath? Then you'll be clean and dry and we'll see what we can do for those poor teeth."

Taking Therese's hand, she brings her upstairs to the bathroom and helps her to undress, removing her wet diaper and plastic pants. Therese's teary face definitely needs wiping, and Carol spends a few moments gently wiping away the tears and the mucus, not flinching even once. Therese knows that Rindy had a nanny who did most of these everyday tasks, but Carol is surprisingly good at it and knows exactly what to do. Despite her pain and distress, Therese feels safe, and she clings to Carol and shivers as her body is fully exposed.

"I know you hate to be cold. It's all right. The bath is nice and warm." Carol helps Therese into the tub and kisses her forehead. "You are burning up, Therese. I don't remember Rindy having fevers when she was teething, but then again, she hasn't gotten her wisdom teeth in yet."

Therese tosses her head irritably. "I always get a fever with tooth pain. And it always hurts," she whimpers, and Carol gently splashes the water up and over Therese's shoulders.

"I know it hurts, darling. We'll give you a nice bath and it'll help a little with that fever."

The bath does help, and Carol even gets Therese to smile a little by piling soap bubbles around her and creating sculptures. She closes her eyes as Carol gently washes her hair, taking time to massage her headache away. When Therese is ready to get out of the bath, her fever is almost gone.

Carol wraps her in a big fluffy towel and holds her tightly for a few moments, dropping kisses on her wet hair and cheeks and one on her lips. "I'm so lucky to have you," she whispers, and Therese snuggles closer into Carol, not caring if she makes Carol's dress wet. She just wants the attention and the love that Carol is always so willing to give.

But by the time Carol pins Therese's fresh diaper on and begins to dress her, the nagging tooth pain is back. Therese, now that her blouse and jumper are back on, starts chewing irritably at one of her fingers. The pressure on the sore spots in her mouth helps, but Carol shakes her head.

"No, Therese. You'll infect your mouth if you chew so. I know it hurts, darling, but you're to keep your hands away from there, do you understand?" Carol is also fully against thumb-sucking for similar reasons, but Therese makes a defiant face at her and continues to chew. Carol shows the first sign of exasperation that she's shown all day and removes Therese's hand from her mouth.

"Therese. Now, I expect you to mind."

Therese pouts. She's usually not defiant like this with anyone. Therese is more likely to immediately mind and do whatever she's told. But she also hasn't hurt this badly in a long time, and it eases the pain to chew on her finger tips. Slowly turning away from Carol, she slips the index finger of her right hand back into her mouth, knowing that this is one of the first times that she's directly disobeyed Carol. And she isn't a child, after all, even though Carol cares for her like she is one.

Carol's face changes, and she gathers the towel from the floor. "Well. That's that, I suppose." And she leaves the room coldly, closing the door behind her. Therese's lower lip trembles and she starts to cry.

Surely now that Therese is upset, Carol will come back in? And she'll realize why Therese needs to chew on her fingers? Therese, somewhere in her rational mind, realizes that she's acting in a completely ridiculous way. But it's the leaving, more than anything - the closing of the door in her face, the knowing that she's so unlovable that even Carol, who traces Therese's face and cuddles her at night and makes sure she knows she's always cared for has left. And so Therese turns onto her tummy on the bed and sobs, trained from birth to not follow, not cause trouble, not want more than anyone is willing to give.

And after a time, Carol comes back in, and places a hand on Therese's back, warm between her shoulders. Therese turns over and immediately clings to a fold of Carol's dress, her face red and swollen and messy. And Carol leans down and kisses her forehead, anyway.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," says Carol, stroking Therese's damp hair. "I shouldn't have left you like that. Forgive me?"

Therese sits up and lets Carol wipe her face with a moistened tissue, straighten her hair, and then she holds her arms out and Carol, settling back against the bed, cradles Therese close. Therese slips her finger back into her mouth and chews, and Carol, this time, says nothing.

Therese's fever stays low-grade that morning, but she won't eat any lunch. Carol's face, mostly creased in concern, shows a touch of exasperation again. "Therese, I've had Florence make us some boiled eggs and toast. That won't hurt your mouth. Now, I know you're hungry, and when you're finished, you can have a nice nap and some hot milk, all right?"

Carol holds a forkful of egg to Therese's mouth and out of futility, more than anything else, Therese reluctantly opens it and chews. But when she swallows, she shakes her head irritably. "I don't want any more."

"Darling," - and now there's a real note of frustration in Carol's voice - "I can't give you any more medicine for your teeth until you eat something. Your poor tummy will be sore, too, and you'll be very miserable."

Therese knows it - she's made the mistake of not eating when taking aspirin and her stomach had hurt very badly indeed. So she reluctantly opens her mouth again and allows Carol to feed her three or four more bites before she tosses her head away. "No more."

Carol finally puts the fork down and sighs. "Have it your way." But she smiles at Therese, anyway. "The milk will help your stomach, anyway."

Therese takes Carol's hand and they go into the kitchen, where Carol heats a saucepan of milk and alternately strokes Therese's hair when she whimpers. The pain is stabbing, which, Carol explains, means that the teeth will probably be through by tomorrow. But tomorrow seems far away, and Therese fidgets in impatience as the milk heats slowly. Carol pours most of it into a mug, but she takes out the baby bottle from the top cupboard above the stove in case Therese feels up to being fed, as well.

They try the bottle, but the sucking motion hurts too much. Therese holds the mug, a bit of the milk staining her upper lip, and takes comfort from the heat rolling over the sore places on her gums. It's not how she wants it, but then, nothing about this weekend is in any way what either Carol or Therese want to happen, she knows.

Afterwards, Carol checks her diaper, patting her bottom securely. "You're soaked. I can't imagine why - you've barely taken anything in today." She presses a kiss on Therese's cheek. "Let's get you nice and dry for your nap, and I'll rock you for awhile."

Therese is glad to get the wet diaper off - with all of the pain, she's forgotten to tell Carol she's been wet for awhile, and she's feeling sore and uncomfortable. Carol hisses slightly as she unpins Therese's wet diaper and sighs a bit. "I should have checked on you sooner. You've got a rash. Poor Therese."

Therese squirms slightly. "Well, we've still got some cream from the last time, haven't we?"

Carol nods. "Yes, thank goodness. Hopefully it will clear it right up." Leaving Therese on the bed, she returns with the cream and spreads it over Therese's skin. This is slightly more intimate than Therese is used to with diaper changes, and she flushes slightly, averting her eyes from Carol. She had never dreamed that she'd be treated for diaper rash in her early 20s; but then, she'd never dreamed that someone like Carol would be so happy to love her and comfort her, either.

Once Therese is clean and dry, Carol returns from washing her hands, carrying the nipple from Therese's bottle. "I thought instead of chewing on your fingers, you could give this a bit of a try. Maybe chewing on the rubber will help."

Therese slides the cool, smooth nipple into her mouth and smiles as it eases the angry pain. Carol smiles, too. "Much more sanitary, I think."

Sitting against the headboard of her large queen-size bed, Carol rocks Therese, humming a lullaby and tracing Therese's face in the way she likes. Therese is sleepy, but every so often, the pain will twinge again sharply and her eyes will fly open. Carol strokes Therese's hair back from her forehead. "Shhh, shhh, baby, shhh."

The hushing and the rocking help, but after the third time the pain has jerked Therese from being almost asleep, Therese rubs her fists into her eyes and begins to cry. Carol kisses her forehead.

"Oh, my darling, you're having such a hard time, aren't you?" She pats Therese's bottom soothingly. "Would a cold cloth help a little?"

Therese sniffles and clings to Carol more tightly. "No," she whimpers. "Please stay with me."

So they stay like that for an hour or more, until Therese, exhausted by her fever and pain, drops into sleep. Carol usually would disentangle herself from Therese's long limbs, but this time, she picks up a book on her bedside table and lets Therese sleep still snuggled against her.

When Therese wakes up, Carol has her open her mouth, and the tiny points of new teeth poke up from the swollen gums. "Well, they're through. That will at least help the pain a little bit," she tells Therese, whose fever is now gone.

Therese snuggles into Carol, grateful for the break in the pain, her cheeks still flushed and swollen. "I'm sorry for being so difficult."

Carol kisses Therese's forehead, cheek, and then lips lightly. "You're not the easiest patient, but I don't mind. I love you, Therese."

And Therese whispers, "I love you, too," and smiles.