The Best Medicine (22 page)

Chapter 23

IT WAS DARK, WELL PAST
midnight, when I lurched into the bathroom, getting there just seconds before hurling. Every part of me ached and twitched. Even my skin hurt. I gingerly touched my hand to my forehead, knowing it was impossible to gauge my own temperature but trying to anyway. You’d think being a doctor I’d have a thermometer around somewhere, but I didn’t. I guess it didn’t really matter if I had a fever. Either way, I felt like shit.

I’d gone straight to bed after Chris dropped me off. I’d tossed and turned and couldn’t get comfortable. I’d thought it was just anxiety over my feelings for Tyler. Turns out it was the flu. An easy mistake to make.

I slumped down on the linoleum floor, my head on the bath mat, my energy spent.

I’m not sure how long I lay there. Two minutes. Ten. The space around me was warbly and I couldn’t read the bathroom clock. It had to be close to five in the morning, judging from the lightening sky and the damnable chirping of the birds. So irritatingly loud! Their morning joy was an insult to the current near-death drama going on in my bathroom.

Thank God I wasn’t due in surgery. I’d never called in sick, but today I was going to have to. I crawled back to bed, literally on my hands and knees. Panzer walked along beside me, pushing his cold, wet nose into my armpit. It would’ve been funny if it hadn’t caused me to seize up in a shivering fit. Using all my reserves, I moved up on the mattress. The sheets felt like sandpaper on my skin.

Panzer whimpered. He needed to go outside, but there was no way I could take him. My stomach rumbled like a cement mixer. This day was going to be ugly.

I lay there for another fifteen minutes, give or take hellish eternity, and finally had the strength to get my phone from the nightstand. I left a message at the office for Gabby, telling her to cancel my appointments. Then I called Tyler.

He answered on the second ring but sounded sleepy.

“Hey,” he mumbled. “You’re up early.”

“Hey. I’m so sorry to wake you up, but I need your help. I’m sick.” My head rolled to the side, trapping the phone between the mattress and my cheek. I heard Tyler’s muffled response from far away.

“You’re sick? What’s the matter?”

“I just need you to take Panzer out. Is there any way you could do that?”

“Of course. Do you need anything else? Ginger ale or soup or something?”

“No, just take the dog.” I hung up because it was time to puke again.

I made it in time, the determination to not have to clean up after myself propelling me forward. By the time Tyler arrived, I’d managed to put on some pajama pants, realize my period had started, discover I was out of tampons, throw up again, and find some fresh pajama pants. I was in hell.

I must have looked like a zombie when I opened the door.

Tyler literally recoiled when he saw me, and then he chuckled. “You look like you’re in a Tim Burton movie.”

“Who?”

“Never mind. You just look awful is all. No offense.”

I knew that already. And I knew he wasn’t trying to be mean, but I started to cry anyway. Big, fat, hot tears. It didn’t make him stop chuckling, the bastard.

He put his arm around my waist instead and guided me back to my room. “Let’s get you into bed, Morticia.”

I lay down and he adjusted the covers. “Are you hot or cold?”

“Yes.” My teeth were chattering, but my head was on fire.

He put his hand on my forehead. “You’re hot.”

“OK.”

I think he chuckled again. I’m not sure. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if he was really there. Maybe I was dreaming the whole thing. I could be lying on the bathroom floor right now just hallucinating about him rescuing me.

“I’ll take Panzer out and be back in a few minutes, OK?” He leaned over and kissed my forehead. I had the cognizance to hope I hadn’t just infected him with Ebola or whatever plague was plaguing me. It was most certainly fatal, whatever the hell it was.

I heard the door open and shut, and then open and shut again. Time must have passed because Panzer came back into my room. Tyler followed right behind him and sat down on the bed. He brushed the hair back from my face.

“Ow.”

“So, what’s up with you? What’s going on?”

I opened my eyes, but focusing on his face required concentration and energy.

“Flu, I guess. Or maybe food poisoning. All I know is I’m puking up stuff I ate in the third grade. You should get out of here in case I’m contagious. Thanks so much for letting the dog out.”

“No problem. I looked in your fridge, though. When are you going to start keeping some food here?”

“Oh, God. Please don’t mention food.” I rolled to the side and clutched my stomach.

He rubbed my back. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

“Since about three o’clock, I think.”

“Oh, that sucks. I’m sorry. But when you start feeling better, you’re going to want some soup or Popsicles or something. I have some time now, so I’ll run to the store. Can you think of anything that you might need?”

I looked back over my shoulder at him. I was about to cross a boundary no woman ever wanted to cross. “There is, but I just can’t ask you.”

His smile was patient. “Try me.”

“Tampons.”

He burst out laughing. The jostling of the mattress made me clutch my gut again. “Stop shaking the bed.”

He stood up but leaned over. “OK. What else do you need?”

I rolled to my back and sighed. “Are you really going to go to the store for me?”

“Yeah.”

“OK. Then I need toilet paper too. I’m completely out and I used Kleenex this morning before realizing they were mentholated. Oh my God, I cannot tell you what went through my mind when that eucalyptus kicked in.”

He laughed again. “You are a hot mess.”

I was. “You’re finding a lot of humor in my misfortune.”

“I’m sorry, Ev. It’s lousy that you’re so miserable. It makes me sad.” He tried to frown.

“I can tell by the way you’re laughing.”

“It’s just to mask the pain.”

I might have laughed too, except I was already running on fumes, and I didn’t have the energy. I closed my eyes instead, wondering who had put sand under my lids.

Tyler readjusted my covers one more time. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ll get you some water first, though. I’d make you tea but you don’t have any.”

I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up when Panzer barked. A glass of water was on my nightstand next to a bottle of ibuprofen, and I could hear sounds coming from the kitchen. Tyler’s footsteps. Bags rustling, cupboards clicking shut, items clanking against the refrigerator shelf. My gosh, how much stuff did he buy?

Panzer strolled in with a new toy. Good thing, because I was low on underwear. I slowly rolled over and reached for the water with trembling hands.

Tyler came into my bedroom with two big paper grocery sacks. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

I paused to answer, mostly because my mouth was on a thirty-second delay from my brain. “I don’t want to be too hasty, but I think I might be feeling better. What’s in the bags?”

He flipped them over and emptied the contents onto the foot of the bed. Boxes upon boxes tumbled out. Boxes of every brand, style, and absorbency variation of tampon.

He looked up at me. “Do you have any idea how many choices there were? Pearl, and super pearl, and gentle glide, and infinity. Seriously? Infinity? And let me tell you, when a dude at the grocery store asks a woman what kind she likes, he is escorted out by security.”

Laughter was a painful reminder that all the muscles in my abdomen were sore from puking, but I laughed anyway and covered my face with my hands. “Oh, no. You didn’t.”

He smiled, and seeing those dimples started to cheer me up.

“No. I didn’t, but I thought about it. I just bought one of every kind instead. I even got you some stuff with wings. Not sure what those are for. This was not at all awkward in the checkout line either, by the way.”

Awkward, and so sweet of him to do this for me, I started to cry. Again. And he started to laugh. Again.

He came around to the side of the bed to hug me, but my skin still hurt, and my bones felt like they’d been stretched apart.

“Evie, Evie, Evie, you poor thing.”

“Please don’t touch me. I’ll be OK.”

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I know.” I sniffled like a four-year-old, with the little gasping hiccups. “Did you get Popsicles?”

He nodded. “I did. Do you want one?”

“No, but thanks. I’ll get one later.” I reached for a mentholated tissue to wipe my nose. “Do you suppose you could come by around dinnertime and take Panzer out again? It’s OK if you can’t.”

“No problem. I have to take off now, though, unless you need something. I’ve got stuff to do. Want these in the bathroom?” He pointed to the three dozen variations of feminine hygiene products.

“Yes, please. And thanks. You’re my knight in shining armor.”

“Oh, if only slaying dragons were as easy as buying tampons.” He scooped all the boxes back into the bag and left, calling out a good-bye. As the door slammed and the sound reverberated, something my mother had said echoed along with it.

Your father needed to take care of someone, and I never let him do that for me. I should have given him a dragon to slay once in a while.

My doorbell rang at four thirty. I was still subhuman but had managed a shower, even eaten a few Popsicles, but mostly I still felt like shit. I hated having Tyler see me like this, but nothing could be worse than the crypt keeper he’d seen this morning.

I opened the door. It wasn’t him. It was Gabby. She looked nearly as bad as I felt. Pale skin, red-rimmed eyes. She was wearing a beige trench coat. I didn’t even know she owned anything beige. She had a canvas shopping bag over her arm, along with her purse.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi. I know you’re sick, but I brought you some fruit and some soup. Can I come in?”

I moved to the side so she could step past me. “Sure, but I don’t recommend touching anything. Whatever I have is vile and nasty.”

“So is Mike.” She practically flung her stuff onto my card table.

“So is Mike? What does that mean?”

Gabby sniffled and pressed a fist to her mouth. “Mike and I broke up!” And then she threw herself into my illness-weakened arms and burst into tears. What the hell was going on with these sisters? Their relationships were falling apart. And these were the two I had helping me?

“He says he doesn’t want to get married,” Gabby said around her hiccups. “And he doesn’t want to live with me either. He’s moving out. How did this happen, Evie?”

I had no idea how it happened and even less of an idea how to help.

“Have you talked to Hilary?”

“I can’t talk to Hilary. She’s got something crazy going on with Steve. Has she talked to you about that? It’s more than just that weekend he wouldn’t go away with her, but she’s being very evasive with me.”

“Um, not really. But what happened with you and Mike?”

She backed up a little and wiped the tears from her face with her fingertips. “I don’t know exactly.”

She plopped down on the couch, and I sat next to her. Tyler was going to arrive any minute to walk the dog. I didn’t want her here when he showed up, but it seemed there was no avoiding it. I couldn’t kick her out when she needed a shoulder to cry on. Even if my shoulders were weak and achy with fever.

“I was showing Mike your husband-hunting list. You know? The one we used for Bell Harbor Singles.” She pulled the old crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and handed it back to me. I tossed it toward the coffee table but it bounced to the floor. I should pick that up before the dog ate it, but the idea of leaning over seemed like far too much exertion.

“And Mike says making a list is a pretty smart way to do things. And then we started talking about marriage in general, and then us specifically. And I said I was ready whenever he was.” She blinked back another round of tears, and her lips trembled. “But then he got all huffy and said he wasn’t ready. So then I got kind of huffy too, and I said, ‘Mike, we’ve been together for four years. How long will it take for you to decide?’”