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“To get you chicken soup,” he said with a soft smile. “Call for me when you’re ready to come downstairs.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll carry you.”
“I’m perfectly capable of?—”
“I’m carrying you,” he repeated. “No arguments.”
He left the room before I could argue anymore. There was a glass of water on the nightstand. I grabbed it and downed it in a few huge swallows. Some of the fog was clearing from my head as I got up and went to the bathroom.
I climbed back into bed and thought about what I could say that wasn’t an outright lie. I had a low-grade headache so when I called my mother, I fibbed and told her I had the start of a migraine.
“I’m just going to rest,” I told her.
“Of course, darling. Whatever you need to do. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
“What’s Wednesday?” I asked, searching my brain, trying to remember if we had plans I’d forgotten about.
“You’re helping me finalize the seating chart,” she said. “Don’t you remember?”
“Oh, right,” I lied.
“You forgot.”
“No, no, I didn’t forget.” I was pretty sure she’d never told me she needed my help.
“You’ve been so absent from helping plan this event—normally you’re in the thick of it with me.”
“Migraine,” I reminded her.
“Right. I’m sorry. Feel better. Should I send Stanton over there to take care of you?”
“Ah, no. I’m fine. I’m just going to put a compress on my eyes and close the shades and take a nap. Hopefully that kicks it.”
“Well, just call if you need me.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
I hung up and rubbed my third eye. I checked my other messages and found a few from Charlie. I messaged her back.
ME
I’m awake.
A few minutes went by and she replied.
Charlie
How are you feeling?
ME
Better.
Charlie
Bones was worried.
