Comfort and Mirth

20. Tinctures

>20. Tinctures Brooks brought his typewriter home in June to work on his book. He set up a study corner in the guestroom and worked for an hour or two every afternoon. After dinner most evenings, he went back in, shut the door, and didn’t come back out until after Andrew and Camille were asleep. On Saturday mornings, he took Camille into town to do her shopping, and after a long afternoon of work, he went into town to unwind with his colleagues at the faculty club or at the Crystal Saloon. He andThomas had taken to playing golf on Sunday afternoons, and on Sunday evenings, he ate his dinner, belched his gratitude, and shrank back into what Camille had come to call his “cave.” One Saturday morning, Andrew slept until almost 8:00 A.M. and woke up fussier than usual. As she made breakfast, he coughed while he pushed his fire engine around the kitchen floor. Before she and Andrew had finished their breakfast, Brooks appeared in the kitchen door. Camille peered at him over her coffee.“You’re up early.” He grimaced. “Had a bad night. Nagging headache.” Camille finished her coffee and wiped Andrew’s face and hands.“What’s for breakfast?” he mumbled. “Soft boiled eggs and toast,” she answered as she wiped the tray of the highchair and set the fire engine on it for Andrew. 167 “No bacon?” Brooks yawned and held his head. “No,but I have fresh cantaloupe,and if you’ll keep an eye on Andrew for a few moments, I’ll make your eggs.” He shrugged and sat down next to Andrew. “How does the fire engine go?” he sang as he rolled the toy back forth across the tray. “Woo-oo!” Andrew shrieked until he coughed. Brooks winced.“Why is he coughing?” “He woke up with some chest congestion.” “Have you given him anything?” “Not yet.” Camille took out a loaf of buttermilk bread and sliced off two thick pieces.“I wanted to feed him first.” Brooks lifted Andrew out of his chair and held him on his lap. “What’s the matter, big boy, did you get a cold?” He turned and watched as Camille buttered his bread and put it in the oven.“Do we have any Fletcher’s Castoria?” “No,” Camille laughed as she lifted his eggs out of boiling water with a fork.“And I wouldn’t give my baby any of that street show olio if I did.” Brooks frowned. “Will Dr. Steiger come out on a Saturday?” Camille poured his coffee and checked the toast in the oven.“It’s just a touch of catarrh,”she said.“I’ll have him feeling better in an hour or two.” Andrew started fussing. Camille served Brooks his breakfast and took the child. Brooks cracked an egg open and spooned it into his mouth.“I guess you won’t be going into town today,” he said as he looked around. “Where’s the cantaloupe ?” “No, but I need for you to pick up some things for me, please.” Camille hummed and patted Andrew on the back until he relaxed over her shoulder. She got the cantaloupe from the icebox. 168 Comfort and Mirth “I don’t know if I should do anything with this throbbing in my head,” he whined as he finished his toast. “You have egg on your cheek,” she nodded as she walked out through the screen porch. She returned with the child draped over her shoulder and a handful of fresh hyssop and lavender. Brooks pushed his plate aside and sat back with his coffee . “What do you need from town?” “A fifth of vodka,” she answered as she handed Andrew back to him. “You’re not serious!” he snapped. Camille put the teakettle on and rinsed the herbs.“I need a fifth of vodka—at least a hundred proof—and some beeswax.” “What in the hell do you need vodka for? You don’t drink vodka.”Andrew started coughing and rubbed his face. “I have an important project I need to do today,” she answered as she bruised the herbs in a tea towel, separated them carefully, and placed each in an enamel bowl. Brooks started to argue, but put a hand to his forehead instead.“Has your work got you vexed or do you think you have sinus pressure?” she asked as steam whistled from the...