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What the fuck, man? She’s sick and probably still mad at you. You need to get laid.
“So, uh, what do you usually need when you’re sick? I can run to the store or order something. Gatorade? Chicken noodle soup? Any particular medicine?”
“I’m fine. I’m just going to sleep it off. I’m sure this is just a twenty-four-hour bug. And after Nieto… anyway, I can’t miss any more work this week.”
Something in her voice made me risk a peek over my shoulder and seeing she was safely cocooned in her blankets, the oversized hunter green shirt coming down to expose one shoulder, I turned around. She looked so small there in her bed, and she sounded so defeated when talking about needing to get back to work. It made me want to stay and take care of her, but as her eyes dropped from mine, I knew I had been dismissed.
“Okay, well, I’ll just be out on the couch catching up on emails. Just give me a shout if you need anything.”
“I will.”
I walked the short distance to the doorway.
“And Hayden?”
Charlotte’s voice stopped me in the entryway and I looked back to see her laying on her side, blankets drawn up to her chin, eyes drooping.
“Yeah, Charlotte?”
“Thank you.”
Again, I felt the urge to take care of her. Tuck that wayward blond strand behind her ear, rub her back, something.
“Anytime,” I responded instead.
It turned out to be a very long night. Charlotte visited the bathroom several more times. Each time, I snuck into her room and refilled her water bottle. After the second trip, she stopped closing the door behind her. I took this as an invitation to replace her cold rag when she kicked all the blankets off—one of her trips had resulted in some short sleep shorts that I suppose in theory were more concealing than underwear—and then removed it and tuck the blankets around her chin when I peeked in and saw her shivering in her sleep. I got her to take a few more doses of medicine throughout the night, though it didn’t seem to control the fever, and I was relieved to see dawn breaking through the windows of the living room from my vigil on the couch.
I heard Charlotte shuffling down the hall and assumed she was visiting the bathroom again, but heard the sound continue to the kitchen, where she proceeded to take a mug out of the cupboard.
“Hey there, sickie. Whatcha doing?” I asked, bounding from the couch and into the kitchen.
“Making some coffee. I need a zap of energy so I can shower and get ready to go into the office.”
“Uh, coffee? Office? Charlotte, your stomach isn’t keeping down water right now. I don’t think—” She slammed the mug onto the counter, surprisingly, not cracking the ceramic with the force.
“Well, it’s going to have to figure it out. I have to go to work today and figure out how we’re going to replace ten thousand dollars from Nieto Pharmaceuticals, so the gala isn’t a failure. So, I’m going to work, and you aren’t going to stop me.”
Charlotte moved to put water in the machine, the mug dropping out of her hand as her arm started to shake. This time, it did break, and she had to prop herself up on the counter to stay upright.
I was next to her in an instant, putting my arm around her to help hold her up, noticing her whole body was shaking now, with tears.
“Char, I know this job means a lot to you, but I really don’t think you can go in. Can I help you get back to bed? I’ll clean this up later.”
She nodded and let me guide her away from the counter.
“On second thought, why don’t you sit on the couch for a second? I’ll strip your bed, change the sheets, and throw the dirty ones in the wash so we can do it again later if we need to, okay?”
Charlotte nodded again, and I sat her down on the couch and tucked a blanket around her lap, noting tears were still streaming down her cheeks.
I think I earned a gold medal in bed changing that day. With Dad working as much as he did, Duncan had us divvy up the chores around the house, and laundry was one of mine. Five young and pre-teen boys dirtied a lot of sheets, and we didn’t have extras, so I got pretty good at making beds over the years. I never thought I’d be thankful for all that laundry, but as I tucked Charlotte into clean sheets within five minutes of posing the idea, suddenly, I was.
“I need to call Paula and tell her I can’t come in and just relay a few things I need someone to take care of. Where’s my phone? Did you see my phone when you changed the sheets?”
“I didn’t. Did you have it after you got home yesterday?”
“I have no idea. Maybe it’s still in my bag?”
She started to get up, and I pushed her back down with a gentle hold on her shoulder.
