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“Babe, I don’t have time for this. I told you my job was going to
be really busy with the new software platform.”
A coughing fit takes over for a few seconds. “I’m sorry, Mike. I’m not trying to bother you, really. I just need a little help. Please? Can you just take me to the doctor? I don’t care about the car right now.”
He’s silent for a few moments, but I can hear him rustling stuff around on his desk. “All right, all right. I’m going to take my lunch break now and come home for you. I’ll take you to urgent care real quick, okay? But then I have to get back here and catch my flight this afternoon. You’re going to have to see if Amy can take you for your car or maybe the garage can drive it to our house for you if we pay them. Get dressed. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Love you.”
I feel dismissed, but at least he agreed to take me to the doctor, which is a good thing because my visit doesn’t go so well. According to the doctor, and the tests she put me through while I’m there. I have a high fever and suffering from dehydration and exhaustion on top of an extremely bad cold or flu. She gives me antibiotics, cough medicine, some supplements to take, and faxes a note over to my boss saying I can’t return to work until next Wednesday—if I feel better by then. My boss will have a cow for sure. If I have a job by next week, it will be a miracle. In the meantime, she says I need to get as much rest as possible and drink a lot of water and juice.
On the way home, Michael stops at a convenience store and buys me orange juice and a few cans of soup. He plants a quick kiss on the top of my head after he parks his car in front of our condo. “I have to get back to the office. My flight leaves at five. Just go rest, and I’ll call you later, okay?”
I smile weakly at him through my hot and dizzy, sick daze. “Thank you. I’m going to go inside and lay down. I’m sorry I interrupted your day.”
“It’s all right, Evelyn. I’m sorry to be rushing you around. I know I seem like a dick, but I’m really stressed out at work.” He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “I know you’ve had a rough time lately. I promise when things settle down, I’ll make this up to you, okay? We’ll go away for a long weekend.”
“I would really like that. Now you go so you don’t miss your flight. I’m not going to kiss you goodbye because I don’t want to spread germs. Call me later.” I grab my bag of juice and soup and go inside.
I try to remember the last time Michael and I had a vacation together. It must be about four years—give or take a year. We used to go away for long weekends together to the beach, but when he was promoted, he became so wrapped up in work, and he could never really commit to taking an entire weekend away from work. I don’t even think that was a conscious decision on his part at all. It just kind of happened that way. He slowly took on more and more work, started to travel more to visit clients, and when he did have some free time on the weekends, he wanted to use the time to relax by golfing with his friends or just watching the game on television. Which is totally fine, of course, but I would be a liar if I said it didn’t bother me that we didn’t spend a whole lot of time together anymore.
Amy and I used to spend a lot of time on the weekends together, but since she broke up with her boyfriend of five years a few months ago, she is now on a dating frenzy every weekend. I would need a matrix right now to try to keep track of all the different men she is currently juggle-dating. Unfortunately, most of them turn out to be total jerks after the third date, or at least that’s what she keeps saying. She hasn’t let me meet any of them yet, so I can’t do my own evaluation.
I drag out a big comfy blanket and pillow from the closet, throw on a tank top and yoga pants, and get all comfy on the couch. I always feel weird sleeping upstairs when Michael is away. I guess in a way I’m afraid to be alone, and I feel safer downstairs. Which is ridiculous, I suppose, as living in a condo there are people pretty much right through the walls on both sides of us.
My cell phone buzzing next to me wakes me up. I grope around and find it falling behind the couch cushion. It must be Michael calling to tell me he’s at the hotel.
“Hello?” My voice comes out mostly in a ragged squeak.
“Evie? What the fuck is wrong with your voice?”
My heart jumps a little. It’s Storm. I take a breath and tell my heart to calm the hell down.
“I’m sick. Why are you calling me?”
“Sick how? You sound like pure shit.”
“Thanks. I went to the doctor. I have the flu and dehydration and exhaustion or something.”
“Holy shit, from the weekend?”
I take a sip of water to try to ease the pain in my throat. “Yes, I guess that started it.”
Admittedly, I purposely didn’t drink a lot while in the truck because I was afraid of having to pee too much and having to make Storm carry me outside to go to the bathroom like a weird dog. I thought by just drinking a little bit, I would be totally fine. Guess not.
“Are you okay? You don’t sound too hot. You sound pretty wasted, actually.”
“I’m fine, Storm. I just have to rest and the doctor gave me some pills to take. I have to stay home until next Wednesday. My boss is throwing a total fit.”
“Fuck that douche.”
“It’s my job, Storm. I kind of need it. So why are you calling exactly?”
“Seth called and told me you never came to pick up your car. I wanted to see what was up.”
“Michael had to go out of town so he couldn’t drive me up there to pick it up. I’ll have to deal with it next week. I’m sorry, Storm. I know Seth is your friend and you guys did me a favor taking care of it. I didn’t know I was going to get sick and that Michael had to travel again.”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about that at all. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. I’ll let Seth know. I’m worried about you though. So you’re home alone?”
“That sounds creepy, but yes, I am here alone. Well, the cat is here of course. Where are you? Are you at the cabin?”
“No, I’m at my other house.”
‘Other house’ must be nice. How many houses could he have? I can’t even imagine having several places to live. The concept of getting out of just one house and getting into another one is hard enough for me to deal with right now, let alone achieve.
“Well, thanks for calling about the car. I’ll get it straightened out and out of Seth’s way as soon as I can. I’m not feeling well so I’m going to go back to sleep.”
“Get some rest and make sure you drink enough water.”
“I will. Goodnight.”
I hang up before he can say anything else. I don’t understand why he keeps contacting me. I feel like we really shouldn’t be talking to each other anymore. There really isn’t a reason to, is there? Deep inside a part of me likes when he calls me, though. I like feeling as if he is thinking of me.
I notice I have a text from Michael. It must have come through while I was one the phone.
Michael: I’m here. I don’t want to call in case you’re sleeping. Let me know if you’re okay.
Me: I’m okay, just really tired from the meds. Call me in the morning. Love you.
Michael: Love you. Feel better.
My throat is freaking on fire. I want tea and honey so bad, but I don’t feel like I can walk all the way to the kitchen and boil water. I glance at Halo sleeping on my feet. “Halo, why can’t you be like those cats on the internet and do amazing tricks? Like make tea?” He blinks at me in the way only cats can. I wave at him.
When I realized Halo was deaf as a tiny kitten, I started to make hand signals at him. It’s definitely not sign language, but it’s our own little communication and I think he likes it. Yes, I realize the fever is allowing really random thoughts to seep in and out of my mind.
A warm, soft hand is gently touching my forehead. Mom always felt my forehead when I was sick and placed a cool cloth on my forehead. I feel her sit next to me on the couch. I’m so glad she’s here to take care of me.
“Mom?” I open my eyes. The room is dark with just the dim glow of the television.
“No, baby, it’s me. You’re burning up.”
Somehow, Storm is in my house, sitting on my couch. Touching my forehead.
I want to yell and jump up, but I can barely move. My entire body hurts and feels like lead.
“Storm… what are you… how did you get in?” I mumble groggily.
“I picked your front door lock when you didn’t answer the door. You really need a security system in this place. I got inside in like less than ten minutes.”
Is he kidding? He broke into my house? I must be dreaming this. I close my eyes and count to five. When I open them, he’ll be gone. One. Two. Three. Five.
He’s still here.
“Take these.” He hands me two pills and holds a glass of water to my mouth. “You don’t look good.” I swallow the pills and hand him the glass of water. I really hope that was my prescription I just swallowed and not some crazy pills he’s giving me.
I let my head fall back onto the pillow. “Thank you.”
“I’m going to make you some tea. I brought you soup, Gatorade, cough drops, flavored water, ice cream, sherbert…”
“Storm… you can’t be here.”
He’s already on his way to the kitchen lugging all the grocery bags. “Too late,” he yells from the kitchen. “Just sit there and be quiet.”
I can’t believe he is here, in my house, making tea, and putting groceries into my kitchen. I don’t know if I should be pissed off or grateful. I think I will settle for both right now, as I feel so crappy I can’t even muster up the strength to tell him he has to leave. And of course, here I am looking absolutely horrible with no makeup on.
He strolls back into the living room with a cup of tea, hands it to me, and then pulls something out of his pocket and holds it up. “Look what I got! For Halo.” It’s a tiny fuzzy mouse. “Look what it does.” He pokes it with his finger and it lights up. “I thought he would like this. It’s interactive.”
