Nick:What’s your address?
She gives it to him, then follows up with,…why?
Nick:I’m coming over.
20
Everything in her aches andshe feels like a swamp gremlin, but still Ramona forces herself to the shower, certain Nick didn’t sign up to witness the result of five days marinating in her own filth. Her arms hurt too much to wash her hair, so she secures it on top of her head with the biggest claw clip she owns, one in the shape of a cat.
While waiting, she texts,I’m warning you, I don’t look as hot as usual. absolutely hideous. nsfw. nsfLIFE!He doesn’t answer, probably because he’s such an attentive driver that he wouldn’t dare check his phone, even while stopped at a light.
So when she opens the door, trailing a merino blanket behind her, and sees him standing there with earnest, concerned eyes, she nearly melts into a puddle. And only partly because of the fever.
“You’re wrong,” he says, closing the door behind him. “I think you lookextremelyattractive. Very avant-garde, using a blanket as a cape.”
With a laugh, she gives him the middle finger. “Don’t say anything funny, it hurts my throat to laugh.”
She pulls the blanket tighter around herself. Janet has stalked toward the door, the hair along her spine sticking up.
Nick freezes in place. “I think I’ve upset her.”
“She’s a little territorial,” Ramona explains as the cat hisses at him. She bends down to scritch her behind the ears. “It takes her a while to warm up to new people. And…we haven’t had anyone new in a while.”
“Hi there,” Nick says to Janet. “You’re such a beautiful girl, aren’t you?”
Ramona’s heart twists. “She does love compliments—probably takes after her mother. You can let her sniff you.”
So Nick lowers himself and holds out his hand as Janet inspects him with her tiny pink nose. Deeming him nonthreatening, she heads for her elaborate scratching post in the living room.
Now that he’s inside, Ramona notices Nick’s carrying a full canvas bag, because of course he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t forget to bring his own bags everywhere he goes.
God, it’s bizarre, seeing him in her house like this. He takes in the grandeur like he’s just stepped inside a museum, rendered speechless by the wonders of some foreign world.
“I know it’s…a bit much,” Ramona says with a tinge of embarrassment.
“No, it’s, uh…very spacious.”
She can tell he has a thousand questions, but he must realize now’s not the time to ask. He takes off his shoes and places them neatly at her door, then runs a hand through his hair and down his stubble.
Fuuuuuuck, does he always look this good or is it just that her mind couldn’t fully conjure him during the days she didn’t see him, and now that he’s here in vivid color, she’s on the verge ofshort-circuiting? His scruffy jaw and broad shoulders and burgundy button-up over a T-shirt. New Balances instead of his classroom loafers. That slutty little earring taunting her. She wishes she weren’t congested, because she has a feeling his scent might heal her—inhaling him like a whippet, letting all that goodness radiate through her system…
Okay, so her itty-bitty crush on him is still a problem. How could it not be, after what happened at that Westwood apartment? Heat floods her cheeks at the memory, and this time she’s certain it’s not the fever.
Surely him seeing her like this will stamp out any feelings he once had for her, and maybe that’s a good thing.
“Have you eaten today?” he asks.
She shakes her head. “Not much of an appetite. I haven’t been able to keep anything down.”
He upends the bag on a credenza she’s always meant to put shit on but has never gotten around to. “Then let’s start with meds. I’ve got Tylenol, Tylenol PM, Tylenol Cold and Flu, DayQuil, NyQuil…I was going to get some of those fizzy tablets that dissolve in water, but I didn’t know if you’re supposed to put them in sparkling water or if that would be too much carbonation, since I’ve only ever seen you drink still water once. I can go back, if you want.”
For a moment she can’t speak. When he texted that he was coming over, she thought maybe he’d just drop off some matzo ball soup from Langer’s. Not the entire cold-and-flu section of CVS.
“You’re this determined for me to not fail your class?” She’s unsteady on her feet, like he could tap her sternum and she’d float away. “You’re going to nurse me back to health just so I can sit there listening to you talk about emotional cognition?”
At that, he cracks a smile. “Actually, this week it’s executive function.”
She selects one of the tablets.Drowsiness May Occur. That sounds perfect, although as much as she’d like to be knocked out, she also doesn’t want to miss an instant of Nick inside her house. “No heavy machinery for me,” she says, downing two of the pills and chasing them with the insulated bottle that hasn’t left her side all week. “Cheers.”
