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“Hi there, Charlotte. Hayden let me know you had a bit of a rough twenty-four hours or so.”
Hayden settled in against the doorjamb, apparently not content to let me or the doctor out of his sight. I knew I could ask him to leave, HIPPA and all, but given how out of it I felt from the fever and lack of nutrition, it was probably good someone else was here to supervise.
“You can say that again. If upchucking was an Olympic event, I’d be on the medal stand for sure.”
Dr. Nguyen laughed gently behind his mask.
“Well, let’s see what we can do to get you feeling better. First things first, let’s do a few rapid tests to see what we can rule out. While we’re waiting for those results, I’ll start an IV and get some fluids in you.” He pinched my skin gently and watched how slow it was to return to its normal state. “Hydration is the name of the game.”
He looked at Hayden. “I’m assuming Charlotte consents to you being here, but you should put on a mask for the time being, just in case.”
Hayden pulled a mask out of the pocket of his joggers like he was prepared for this inevitability and didn’t want to leave my side for a moment.
Dr. Nguyen swabbed my nose for each test and mixed the solutions. While we waited the fifteen minutes for the results to appear, he started an IV in my arm—as promised—hanging the bag off my headboard.
That’s a new headboard accessory I never thought I’d see, I thought to myself, holding back a giggle. The fever must be getting to me, bringing out those types of thoughts in front of the kind, if grandfatherly, doctor.
Dr. Nguyen measured my pulse and oxygen rate, and the timer went off. He examined the test strips. “The flu test came back positive. Everything else came back negative, which I can imagine is a relief.”
I nodded. “Of course. I have a big event at work next week, so being out for a long period is just out of the question at the moment.”
Dr. Nguyen’s eyes turned stern. “You’re still a pretty sick young lady. The flu is nothing to scoff at. Hayden let me know that your fever wasn’t especially responsive to ibuprofen, which to me means bed rest for at least three days. I’ll leave you with some other prescriptions to help control the fever and stop this from turning into something more serious, like pneumonia, but pushing yourself back to work too soon is a sure way to help yourself along that path.”
“But, no, I really need to be back in the off?—”
“Don’t worry, Doc. I’ve cleared my schedule to work from home for the rest of the week. I’ll be sure to keep her home and in bed,” Hayden interrupted from his vigil in the doorway.
A shiver worked its way through my body at the thought of Hayden keeping me in bed. Glad I could blame the fever if anyone questioned me on it.
“That’s going to be for the best. I’ll leave you both with my card if things get worse, but I expect with lots of rest, fluids, and medicine, you’ll be in good shape. I can send one of my nurses by with another fluid IV tomorrow if you need it. Just call the office.”
I slumped in my bed, my arms crossed. Logically, I knew I needed the rest, but I’d always been stubborn and didn’t appreciate these two men telling me what to do.
Dr. Nguyen got up and packed up his bag, trying to hide the grin that reached his eyes and failing to do so when he needed me to uncross my arms so he could remove the IV from its place in my arm.
“You’ve got a good man here, Charlotte.”
I opened my mouth to tell Dr. Nguyen exactly what I thought about the man sharing this condo with me—that he was overbearing, and sure, a hot-as-hell control freak—but Hayden beat me to responding. He crossed the room, his hand extended. “Thanks so much again for coming by Dr. Nguyen.”
Hayden and the doctor left the room, and I heard them continuing to talk in low tones as Hayden presumably walked him toward the door. I maneuvered myself into a horizontal position. I felt better with the additional fluids in my system, but somehow, I was still exhausted from the events of the morning, even though it felt like I’d done nothing but sleep—and throw up—for the last eighteen hours.
Hayden returned to the room, not bothering to knock since I was lying on my side facing the door and saw him coming.
“Here,” he said, placing a Gatorade and a sleeve of crackers on my nightstand.
I picked my head up slightly.
“How did you know blue was my favorite?”
“I, uh, may have checked with Austin when we talked earlier. The crackers are unsalted too.”
I felt a warmth in my stomach that had nothing to do with any nausea I felt at that moment. It didn’t surprise me at all that Austin knew what I’d want. Our friendship wasn’t that old, but the guy had a freaky good memory and we had talked about childhood sickness cures when he was sick last year. I was touched that Hayden had thought to ask him, though. What’s more, he had gone through all the trouble of arranging a house call from a doctor and clearing his schedule to keep an eye on me.
“If you’re not careful, you’re going to find yourself forgiven for the whole llama-text debacle, Hayden Brandt,” I said as my eyes closed, feeling myself drifting off to sleep, unable to stay awake any longer.
As I faded toward unconsciousness, I detected the ceiling light in my room switching off, and thought I heard Hayden whisper, “That’s what I’m counting on,” before blackness took me.
The rest of the day was still miserable. The first Gatorade did not stay down, but after some time and a nausea pill, I kept the second one down, along with some crackers. This gave me strength enough to take a quick shower, after which I returned to clean sheets, still warm from the dryer. And again, I found external factors like a toasty bed had little to do with the warmth spreading through my insides.
