I frown. “It’s not my birthday.”
“Well, I know that, dummy,” she says. “It’s a song.”
“You couldn’t carry a tune to save your life.”
“Boy, you do feel bad,” she says. “You’re cranky. Always were kind of sour when you got sick. Your daddy was the same way.”
“I’m going back to sleep, Gran.”
“Wait,” she calls out, and I hear her even though I’ve already dropped the phone on the bed.
I pick it back up. “What?”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come? I will. I’ll get right in the car, right now.”
I don’t like for Gran to drive long distances by herself. And I don’t want her near me if I’m contagious, either. “No, I’m fine. Seriously. I’m just going to sleep it off.”
“Love you, Abigail. I’ll call you later to check on you.”
“Love you too, Gran.” I let the phone fall to the bed again as I pull the covers up under my chin, my teeth chattering.
As the sun sets, I wake up to the sound of someone knocking on the front door. I’ve been in and out of consciousness all day, getting up only long enough to go pee and to force myself to drink something. But I haven’t done anything more than that. Once, I’d gotten up and pulled Gran’s old heating pad from the closet and plugged it in because I couldn’t get warm enough.
But now I’m sweaty. My clothes are damp, the sheets are damp. I must have been sweating beneath the covers. I feel gross.
The knock sounds again, and I hear the lock turn, meaning someone has a key, as the front door opens. “Abigail,” a deep voice calls out. “Are you here?”
The footsteps stop in the front room. “No,” I call back weakly.
The footsteps come toward the bedroom, but I’m too sick to care. “Abigail?” Ethan says. I can see him silhouetted in the doorway of the bedroom with the light limning his body. “Close your eyes,” he says. “I’m going to turn the light on.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. The light still hurts when he turns it on, so I moan into my pillow.
“I heard you were sick,” he says. He walks over to the bed, and he reaches out to touch my forehead with the back of his hand. “You’re burning up.” He takes a little machine out of his pocket and rolls it across my forehead. “One-oh-three-point-two.” Jesus, why didn’t you tell me? I would have come sooner.”
“Who told you I was sick?” My voice cracks as I talk.
“Your grandmother called the Jacobsons, and Katie was coming over here to bring you the pain relievers you need.” He holds up the little thermometer. “She also told Katie to take your temperature.” He grins at me as he shakes a bottle of pills in front of my face. “But Katie walked by my tent and told me where she was going, so I volunteered to come instead.”
“Gran called them?” I croak. My throat is stinging like it’s on fire.
“She called them and gave them a list of things you need. And she told them where to find the key that was hidden outside.” I see that he’s still holding on to a plastic shopping bag, which he sets on the side of the bed. “So I went to the store and got all of the things your grandmother said you would need when I took Mitchell back to Ma’s house.”
He starts to unload the bag. He has a carton of purple juice, the kind from the refrigerated section of the grocery store.
“What’s the deal with the purple juice, anyway?” he asks. “It was on the list.” He goes to the kitchen to get a glass, and when he comes back he opens the juice container and pours a few inches into the glass. Then he sticks in a straw. That must have been on Gran’s list too, because I know there are no straws in the house. “She said it didn’t matter what flavor it is, that it just had to be purple. And I had to give it to you with a straw.” He holds out a piece of paper. “Katie actually wrote all her instructions down.”
“I like purple juice,” I manage to say. I let him hold the straw to my lips and I take a few tentative sips, but they burn like fire going down.
&nb
sp; “Most people would say ‘I want pomegranate juice’ or ‘I want grape juice.’”
“No,” I say. “I just want purple juice.”
He opens the bottle of pain relievers and shakes two into his hand. “Take these.”
There’s no way they’re going down my throat. I turn my head away.