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The next morning, when I heard Marisa’s alarm going off, I went in with a concoction of medicine, vitamins, and juice I had delivered the night before.
“Do you need to call your team and let them know you’re not coming in?” I asked.
“I’m fine. I just need some coffee.” Her voice was nasally and congested.
I scanned her forehead with the digital thermometer I had also ordered with the groceries and meds. I showed her the reading. “Too high.”
“Where’d you get that from?”
“I ordered some stuff for you last night,” I said nonchalantly.
Her eyes landed on all the items on the tray I had set on her nightstand.
“What isallthat?”
“All that is gonna make you feel better.”
“Stay in bed,” I ordered. “I’ll bring you some fruit to eat after you take your medicine.”
“I’m going into work.”
“You can’t go in with a fever.”
“Yes, I can.”
“Babe, don’t take this the wrong way, but you sound like shit.”
She rolled her eyes. “Babe”—she smirked—“I have a lot of work to do. I can’t afford to not go in.”
I shrugged like what she said made complete and utter sense. I was thrilled she called me “Babe,” even though she was being a smartass about it. “Okay,” I pulled the covers back so she could get out of bed. If she was going to be a smartass, so was I.
When she stood up, she wobbled on her feet. I tried to help steady her, but she shoved me off and said, “I just need a minute. I’ll be fine after a shower.” She could try to prove herself all she wanted, but I’d been in her shoes before—trying to work through a terrible flu—she wasn’t going into work today. She needed to make the decision herself, so she didn’t feel like I was calling the shots. She liked to be in control of herself. I’d give in to her need, even though I knew I was right.
I walked to the bathroom and turned the water on for her. “Maybe a hot shower will do you some good. Of course, I may need to take a cold one after seeing you naked.”
“Maybe ifyoudid take a shower with me and washed me all over, I’d feel better.”
I was about to snap out a witty retort, but when Marisa had to steady herself using the counter to keep upright, all thought left my brain as my body sprang into action. I was by her side in a flash. “I think I might throw up.” She took a deep breath and a couple of seconds to regulate her breathing. “No, I think I’mfined,” she said, mispronouncing the word. But she was pale and slightly green. “I sound like I have afrodin my throat.” And another mispronunciation.
“I think you meanfineandfrog. Don’t think either word is said with a D on the end.”
“Ha-ha, you’re so funny. I’d like to see how you fare”—she coughed violently—“feeling like I do.”
I gave her a gentle squeeze after I wrapped an arm around her and said, “Okay, Kermit, let’s get you back to bed.”
“’Kay.” She sounded sweet and sugary and didn’t shove me off. “I’ll text Captain and Davis and let them know I won’t be coming in.”
I placed a kiss to her temple. “Good girl.”
A few minutes later, after bringing her a bowl of fruit cocktail, which she’d snubbed and turned her nose up at, her meds and some juice, I made sure she was tucked back into bed and said, “I’ll come back after work and make sure you’re okay. In the meantime, take your vitamins and meds, and drink your juice.” I passed the pills and orange juice to her.
“So bossy.”
“I’m being bossy because I care. About you. A lot.”
That effectively locked down the next smart comment I could tell she was waiting to serve up.
“Me too,” was all she said before closing her eyes.
