I was hesitant for a moment before agreeing. “Sure.”
I started playing the melody I’d worked out, and he naturally followed. As always, I was floored by how talented he was. I started to sing, my voice tentative at first before gaining volume. The acoustics were beautiful in Brad’s spacious living room with the high ceilings.
We had a couple of stops and starts as we fine-tuned the chorus. It was a relief to feel so natural in Sid’s presence again after being so out of sorts for so long. We were in our element as we talked through the melody and lyrics.
I didn’t even notice the headache until it was full force. The combination of having little food that day and the stress of the last few days came together into the perfect storm of headaches.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, picking up immediately that something was off. “Migraine?” I’d been getting migraines for years, and Sid obviously recognized the signs of one coming on.
“Yeah,” I replied. “I think I have to stop,” I added.
“Okay, come here.” He beckoned, gently taking hold of my arm and guiding me to sit on the couch. “Let me get your medicine. Where is it?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “In my purse. Thanks.”
He was back in moments with a glass of water and two tablets. I took them gratefully. “Just snuck up on me,” I muttered.
“Let’s get you to bed. You need to rest.”
Before I could answer, he stood up and swept me into his arms. I had the presence of mind to wrap my arms around his neck. “What are you doing?” I sputtered.
“Carrying you.”
“Uh, yeah, I gathered that,” I muttered as we entered my room.
He deposited me gently on my bed. “I’ll come check on you in a little bit.”
I lay on the bed in confusion, my head pounding out of my skull. I was too exhausted to demand answers. Trixie’s collar jangled as Sid placed her beside me and she burrowed immediately into my side.
“Get some rest, baby. I’ll be here.” His deep voice held a promise I didn’t understand.
I closed my eyes, the current of pain radiating from my temples too intense to bear. The only real medicine was sleep, and I let myself drift off, ready for a cure.
****
“Sam.” His voice was gentle as his big hand stroked over my forehead.
“Hmm?” I was disoriented as I fought to open my eyes. Had I been sleeping for minutes or hours?
“Just checking on you,” his deep voice replied.
“I’m okay,” I mumbled sleepily. “Trixie should eat and go to the bathroom.”
“Okay, I’ll take her,” he replied, and I felt him scoop her up.
The rest of the night was much the same. Sid checked on me every few hours, trying not to wake me. I was hyperaware of his restlessness. When a glimmer of light shone through the blinds, I reached a hand out, grasping his forearm.
“Stay. I think it’s the only way you’ll get some sleep.”
I could hear the surprise in his voice. “You sure?”
I was anything but sure, but I nodded anyway.
He didn’t need more coaxing. He had to be exhausted, and so was I after a restless night. He crawled in under the covers in the gray pajama bottoms I’d seen on him often, and nothing else. Trixie lay between us and remained nuzzled to my side.
“Night, Sid.”
“Night, Sam,” he replied with a jaw-cracking yawn.
