“I’m fine. Go to work.” I was not fine. My stomach ached and I was still cold.
“Honey, I can make arrangements to stay here with you.”
I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. Go. It’s just a little bug.” When I saw him hesitate, I took ahold of his shoulders and turned him around. “I’ll be fine, Dad.”
“Okay. I’ll check in on you, okay?”
“Alright.” My dad looked unsure, but I made a motion with my hand to shoo him out. He left. I went into my bathroom and picked up the empty trashcan that was lined with a grocery bag. I went back into my room and grabbed my pillow and comforter. I slowly made my way to the couch and got comfortable.
I found the remote, said goodbye to my dad after he brought me something for the fever, and turned on the TV. I snuggled under my covers and soon I was asleep. Sleep didn’t last but an hour before I woke up. Between throwing up and feeling achy, I slept. That wasn’t exactly how I had planned to spend my Saturday.
Around noon, I was watching Dirty Dancing when I heard a knock on the door. “Go away,” I yelled. The knock came again and I groaned. I got up to answer the door with my comforter wrapped around me. I opened the door to see Jake and I groaned again. I looked just as bad as I felt and he had to show up! He smiled and asked to come in. I moved aside and lay back down. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m happy to see you too.”
I rolled my eyes and felt the urge to throw up again. I lurched forward and made it just as I was over the trashcan. Great. Jake got to see me vomit.
The taste was disgusting in my mouth. I picked up the trashcan and went into the kitchen. Jake followed me. “So?” I asked, waiting. I took the bag out of the little trashcan and tied it. I opened the door leading to the garage and dropped it into the trashcan in there.
“Mike called and told me you were sick. He wanted me to check on you.”
A groan escaped again and I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. I drank until the taste left my mouth.
I looked Jake up and down. He looked good in his sweats and a black tee. I looked down at myself. My pajama pants were pink and covered with penguins and my tank top was black. Thank goodness it had a built in sports bra.
Jake took a step towards me and pushed away a loose strand of hair. “You look fine,” he said
Again, I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure I do. You don’t have to be here. Plus you are supposed to be with the guys,” I reminded him, walking back into the living room. I sat on the couch and wrapped my blanket around me.
Jake takes a seat beside me. “Oh, they can wait. You’re sick, Em. I have to nurse you back to health.”
He stood up and went into the kitchen. I rubbed my hands over my face and returned my focus to the movie. I heard Jake rummaging through the kitchen, but I didn’t feel like finding out what he was doing. A few minutes later, he returned with a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup.
“Jake, I really don’t want that,” I said.
He sat down beside me and gave me a look that told me I had better eat it. “Emily, it’ll make you feel better.”
I looked between him and the bowl. I reached out to take it and a grin settled over Jake’s face. I let the steam travel over my face. Slowly, I ate my soup. After I finished, I couldn’t tell if I felt better or more nauseous. Jake took my bowl to the kitchen and I drank some more water.
He came back and placed my pillow on his lap. “Lie down and rest,” he commanded me.
I did as he said with pleasure. All I wanted to do was lay down. Jake slipped his hand under my comforter and ran his hand up and down my arm. Soon, sleep took over.
16
Jake
Emily’s body was extra warm as she slept. When Mike called and told me she was sick, there was no doubt that I would come over. Seeing her when she opened the door, I could tell she didn’t feel good. I kind of liked her sick. She had a grumpy side to her and it made me smile.
She rolled over and buried her face in my stomach. I moved my hand to rub her back. While she slept, I watched the rest of Dirty Dancing. I was afraid I would wake her if I reached for the remote on the coffee table. Another older movie came on. When that movie ended, Emily woke up. She clamped a hand over her mouth and ran for the bathroom. She had forgotten to bring the trashcan back in here. I followed her and checked on her.
After she rinsed out her mouth, she looked at me and said, “Fever means it could be contagious. Are you sure you want to be here instead of with your friends?”
I brought her to me and kissed her forehead. “Absolutely.” We walked back into the living room and I asked her where the grocery bags were so I could bring her the trashcan.
“Thanks,” she said when I place the trashcan in front of her. Before she lay down again, I grabbed the remote and placed her pillow over my legs. She lay down and brought her covers up to her neck.
I ran my hand up and down her arm again. I found George Lopez on and turned it to his show. It didn’t take long before Emily fell asleep again. My focus switched from the TV to Emily. Even though she was sick, she looked peaceful while she slept. Her dark eyelashes stood out on her tan skin.