Monday morning, Harry was fantastically bright and brilliant. His sweet face and smile and outlook on everything always made my job so much easier, but this morning he was exceptionally...sharp.

"You look great today, Harry," I said. "You must have had a good night's sleep."

"I did, thank you," he answered with a soft smile.

A different smile.

A smile that both thrilled and terrified me because it wasn't the smile of a little boy. It was the smile of a young man, the young man I was certain lay beneath the facade of a disabled child.

"I'm glad, Harry. How are you feeling?"

"I have a headache," he said, shrugging like it was no big deal.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Let me find some Tylenol. That should help."

I went into the bathroom in my suite where all the medication was stored and dug through the medicine cabinet. While I searched for the pain reliever I caught sight of Harry's pill box.

"Shit!" I swore under my breath, hoping Harry couldn't hear me. "Shit, shit, shit!" I had completely forgotten about giving him any medication yesterday. It was an unusual day and we were both relaxed and having fun. I couldn't believe I forgot and that he forgot to ask. How could I have been so careless?

I grabbed the pill box and the bottle of Tylenol which miraculously appeared on the bottom shelf even though I couldn't seem to find it moments before. I went back to the kitchen and found Harry waiting with a glass of juice already in hand.

"Hey," I said calmly. "I think I know why you have a headache. We kind of forgot your meds yesterday."

A look of dread transformed his face. "Am I...will...will...I be okay?" He asked.

"You'll be fine, I promise." I hoped. "But sometimes when you're taking regular medications and miss a few doses, it can make you feel a little sick or have a headache, which you do. You can take your regular pills now, plus the Tylenol and I bet you'll feel better in no time." This was a damn good reason that I should know what he's taking. Should I be looking for adverse effects of missing doses (besides the obvious headache)? Should I give him yesterday's and today's doses (hypothetical question, of course, since almost every medication says not to double up doses if you accidentally miss one, but hey, I'm neither doctor nor pharmacist.) Obviously, it was the safest bet to just give him today's doses and to own up to my mistake with Theodore, just in case. He would most likely yell at me, but I'd rather have Harry safe than to save my own skin. 

Oddly, when I opened the box, it seemed there were more pills in each compartment. I could have sworn he had been taking five pills in the morning and now there were seven. Some of them looked like supplements, but how could I be certain? Each of the other compartments had at least one new pill in them as well. I guess I had a few things to talk to Theodore about.

"Here you go, Harry," I said, placing the pills on the table. "How did you feel yesterday? Did anything feel funny or weird? Did anything hurt?"

"No," he shook his head. "Yesterday was one of the best days ever."

It was hard to know if that was because we had both had such a good time together yesterday or if he felt physically superior to most days. But come to think of it, he must have been super relaxed yesterday because I hadn't noticed any of his tics or stuttering. Or it was possible that I was just getting used to it enough that I didn't notice it anymore?

Maybe it was possible that Harry freaked out with Theodore in charge on Saturday while I was gone and Theodore had given him some kind of sedative to help him sleep - that would explain his early bedtime - and the effect of the medication carried over into yesterday, keeping him more calm and relaxed than normal.

Or maybe Harry had just been happy to have me back and since it wasn't a school day, he didn't have any pressure, even though he loved school tremendously.

After his medication, I told Harry that he could do whatever he wanted for the day. My goal was to complete at least some of the Vineland Scales with him, observing his play and recreation. I would likely direct him to certain tasks so that I could observe his abilities, but I was sure I'd already seen many of his skills.

Before I started with that, however, I had to make the uncomfortable phone call to Theodore. I just hoped I wouldn't get fired.

"Hello, Theodore," I said in a mousy voice after he answered. "I..um...there's a small problem I need to ask you about."

"Yes?" He said with his typical impatience.

"I...forgot to give Harry his medication yesterday. For the whole day."

"Do you have a problem following instructions?" He snapped.

"No, sir, I apologize. I would never do anything to hurt Harry. But I really just forgot. He slept in late." (I fibbed.) "And I guess our day just got thrown off because I bought him some books-"

"What kind of books?!" He demanded.

"Eric Carle books," I answered defensively. "They're children's books. And I bought him some water-color paint as well."

"Fine," he huffed. "Next time, ask me before you expose him to anything new!"

I wondered if that applied to Disney movies as well. For as much as I loved Harry and his sweet, gentle nature, I already hated his father with my life.

"Fine," I almost snapped back at him. "I would find it very helpful if I knew what medications Harry takes so that if something like this happens again, I would know if he's in danger from not receiving the medication, or if it's something I can double up the doses on."

"You're not going to let it happen again," Theodore stated harshly. "We've already discussed this. His medications are a private matter and do not need to be discussed with the help."

I literally felt heat escape through my nostrils when I breathed out in fury. "I am more than just the help and you know it," I seethed. "I am basically raising your child and looking out for his every need. I do not think it's too much to ask that I know which medications he is taking. And I also noticed that he has more pills this week. When is the last time he saw a doctor? Why are his doses going up?"

"Again," he growled, "these things are none of your business. If you absolutely must know, one of his medications is Singulair, for his asthma. If he doesn't take it, he could have serious breathing problems."

I was in shock. He had never once mentioned asthma. "You said he doesn't have any life-threatening conditions. Does he have a rescue inhaler? A nebulizer?"

"Ms. McGill, now you see why you absolutely must follow my instructions. If he takes the medication every day, then he will have no need for a rescue inhaler and it wouldn't be a life-threatening condition! But since you have already made a dire mistake, I will make sure he has one on hand from now on."

"Thank you sir, but you didn't answer my other question. Why is he getting more meds when he hasn't seen a doctor?"

"I took him to the doctor on Saturday. The adjustments were made then," he replied flatly.

It was a bald-faced lie and I knew it but I had no proof. I simply tried to control my rage as I said good-bye and ended the call.

Within the hour, someone I presumed to be another employee came into the suite and handed me a package with two rescue inhalers. "Thank you," I said, dumbfounded. That fucker had these the whole time and didn't make them available. Honestly, what would have happened if Harry had had an asthma attack and I couldn't get in touch with Theodore? And those stupid doors were almost always locked.

As I removed them from their packaging, I noticed that the inhalers were indeed prescribed to Harry Styles, but the prescription was from about six months ago. Odd, but at least I had them now. That was when I caught sight of the doctor's name as well as the pharmacy's phone number. I wondered if I could get any information from either of them but I doubted it since the privacy laws were probably similar in Canada to the US. Still, it was worth a shot. I called the pharmacy first.

"Hello, I have a prescription for a Ventolin inhaler for Harry Styles, prescription number 1037659. Could you tell me how long it lasts before it expires? It was prescribed six months ago, but I just opened it today."

The pharmacy tech answered politely, "Okay, let me just look up that information. All right, it looks like once you open the package, the inhaler is still good for use up to six months, as long as you open it before the expiration date on the outside carton."

"All right," I said gratefully. "So if I don't open the pouch for the second one right away, it should be good for six months after I open it, too, right? As long as I open it before..." I looked at the top of the carton, "March of 2018. That's the expiration date."

"That's correct. Can I help you with anything else?" She asked.

"No, but thank you very much."

Next, I tried searching online for the doctor listed as the prescriber on the package, Dr. Benjamin Blake. There was no listing for a primary care provider or a pediatrician by that name. Not even an allergist. There was a Dr. Benjamin Blake at the some university in Richmond, British Columbia which wasn't far from Vancouver. But it didn't appear that he was a medical doctor teaching at a med school or some such thing.

Still, I figured I had nothing to lose by trying to contact him. He would have no idea who I was anyway. I found the university's main phone number and then asked for the number for Dr. Benjamin Blake. I was expecting to have to leave a voicemail, but I was pleasantly surprised when he answered.

"Hello, Dr. Blake, my name is Juliette. Are you a medical doctor by any chance?"

"No, dear, I'm not a medical doctor," he chuckled warmly. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry to bother you then. Would you happen to know of any medical doctors by your same name in the area? I'm the nanny for a teenage boy with asthma and his name is on the boy's prescription. I just had some questions about him."

"About whom? The doctor or the boy?" Dr. Blake asked.

"About Harry," I said. "I'm sorry, that's the boy's name. It's just that I don't have much information on him and I'm trying to figure some things out."

Dr. Blake was silent for a long moment; I thought he might have hung up.

"Are you still there?" I asked. "I'm so sorry to have taken up your time. Thank-"

"I'm still here," he interrupted. "I was just thinking for a moment. Your best bet would be to talk to the boy's parents, don't you think? I'm quite sure that a medical clinic wouldn't give information to a nanny unless the family gave specific permission for her to communicate with the doctor. I happen to be a professor of health-related law so I have a very good understanding of these things."

"Oh, thank you so much," I said. "I really appreciate that. I know that's the way it is in the States, too." I hoped I could glean some wisdom from him, even though he was a complete stranger. "It's just extremely hard to get any information about the boy's health from his father. I don't know what kinds of medications he's taking because they're already dosed out for him at the beginning of the week. I've tried to explain to the father that I'm nervous not knowing what the boy takes or even what conditions the boy has. Can you think of any way I could legally get that information? I'm just very concerned for him, for the boy, and I want to do the best job I can with him."

He was quiet again for a few minutes. When he finally spoke, he said, "I'm sorry but I don't believe there is. His custodial parents have the legal right to share such information with whom they see fit. Apparently, they don't think you need to know. I'm not saying I agree with them, but there's really nothing that can be done. I'm sorry."

"Well, I thank you for listening," I told him. "Again, I'm sorry I bothered you."

"No, not at all," he said, quite jovially I might add. "Please feel free to call me again if you have other questions."

"Thank you," I said and ended the call. How nice it was to talk to a rational human being again.

But, soon, frustration set in again. And fear. How could I be responsible for Harry's life if I didn't know all the pieces of the puzzle. And how could I trust Theodore? I was taking care of his son and I suddenly felt very ill-equipped to do it since I knew he was reluctant to share information with me, however absurd that was. What the hell was this man hiding? And why was he hiding it?

* * * * *

What do you think?! :D