“Oh, Abigail, how nice to see you again. Come in. Come in.” Francis Morrison waved Abby into her office. She was the Director of Volunteer Services for the hospital.
“I’m here for my visit with the children, but I wanted to drop off this cheque first. I think that we need to get some stuff for the older kids, the ones that aren’t into Barbie and Lego…maybe some higher level books and puzzles. So they don’t just watch television all day.”
“That’s wonderful of you…and you’re right, we do need to do that.”
Abby suddenly felt lightheaded again. She sat down in the chair in front of the desk. She reached a hand out to the edge of the desk to steady herself.
“Abigail, are you all right?” Francis was concerned. The girl was pale as a ghost except for two bright spots of red on her cheeks.
Abby didn’t answer immediately. She was concentrating too hard on keeping the earth from spinning off its axis.
“Abigail?”
Abby looked up and smiled weakly. “I just felt lightheaded for a moment. I’ve been that way for a couple of days now.” She paused. “I probably just need to eat something. I’ve been a bit off food. But I guess I’d better not go up to the ward. If I’m coming down with something…”
Francis Morrison nodded. That was true, she shouldn’t go near the children. But Francis thought maybe Abigail needed a moment before she’d be able to go anywhere. “So your friend, she decided not to volunteer after all?”
“My friend?” Abby wasn’t following.
“Your friend…um, let me see, I have her name here somewhere…” Francis started rummaging through the papers on her desk. “She called here…oh, six weeks, a couple of months ago…said she was a friend of yours and wanted to know about volunteering. We had quite a long conversation…” Francis continued to sort through files. “…of course, any friend of yours would be welcome here…ah, here it is…Fenton…Veronica Fenton.”
Francis finally looked up at Abigail. Then she reached for the phone. “Get a doctor in here,” she said.”
“Thank you,” whispered Abby as she slid out of the chair onto the floor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“You fainted? In public?” Sharon was horrified.
“It wasn’t in public, Mother. It was in Mrs. Morrison’s office. And I didn’t really faint…it was more of a slide…trying to find a surface closer to the ground, as it were.”
“It’s not funny, Abigail. People will think…”
“…that I’m pregnant,” said Abby. “Well, I’m not, so don’t worry about it. And besides, guess what? They already did think that.”
Sharon’s eyes were huge. She held the phone out from her ear and stared at it. “What?”
“Oh, come on, Mother, what did you expect? People think that about anyone who moves up a wedding date. I’ll bet you thought it once or twice yourself.”
“I did not!” declared Sharon, haughtily. Both women knew she was lying.
John Fremont sat in the armchair listening to his wife’s end of the conversation. Abigail was to join them for dinner, but she was calling to cancel, said she wasn’t feeling well.
“Is she okay?”
Sharon relayed her husband’s concern.
“Yes, Mother. Tell Daddy that the doctor checked me out. It’s an ear infection. It’s not contagious, just some virus that’s got a hold of me. Go to bed, drink plenty of fluids…you know the drill. He gave me a prescription. I got it filled on the way home.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve got medicine...but maybe you should have come here for the night. Yes, that’s a good idea. Have a nice dinner and then sleep here. You’ll feel better in the morning. Your father can come and get you.”
“That’s kind of you, Mother, but I’m already in bed. I’m going to sleep this off. I have some things to do tomorrow morning. I have a meeting in the afternoon and then…”
“…Nick comes home,” finished her mother. “I’m very sorry that we’re not going to see him this time.” Abby opened her mouth to protest, but her mother cut her off. “Yes, yes, I understand… he’s working, it’s a busy time…but I wanted to talk to him about the party.”
That is precisely the reason why you are not seeing him, thought Abby. “He has faith in you, Mother. He trusts your judgment. He says whatever you want, you do it. And now…” Abby paused. She felt like the phone weighed fifty pounds. “I think I have to go.”
“It’s too bad about dinner. Mrs. Smith made tuna casserole just for you.”
The thought of tuna casserole made Abby’s stomach turn over. “Tell her thanks, but I don’t think I’d do it justice tonight.”
After more assurances that she was fine and that she would call them the next day, Abby hung up and went back to watching her bedroom spin around. Man, did she feel awful. She had managed to stay upright in the pharmacy, but had gotten progressively sicker as she drove home. She had concentrated all her might on getting the car safely into the parking garage and turned off. Then she had leaned her head on the wheel, trying to regain her equilibrium. She had been foolish to drive and was glad that she had made it home safely without hurting herself or anyone else. Now if she could just make it to the elevator…
Abby made her way slowly and carefully up to the apartment. She took the medicine into the kitchen. They were pills for the ear infection. The doctor said the fever should come down once the pills kicked in. Abby peered at the instructions. Reading the tiny print made her dizzy again. Take with food. Well, she thought, so much for the ‘starve a fever’ philosophy.
Abby wasn’t hungry and she didn’t feel all that feverish yet. What she needed to do was lie down before she fell down. She shook one of the antibiotics out of the bottle and swallowed it. She made her way to the bedroom. She stripped off her clothes and climbed into the bed. Suddenly, her teeth were chattering and she couldn’t get warm. She weighed the options. Wait through it and go to sleep, or climb out of bed and get socks. Years of sleeping in the cold at her parents had proved to her that you didn’t sleep comfortably if you weren’t warm, and Abby really, really wanted to go to sleep for twelve hours and cast off this viral pest. Nick was coming home tomorrow. She had to be healthy for that. An ear infection she could deal with; the dizziness and fever were another story. And now her skin was starting to ache.
It took her a while to get socks and pajamas on. She had to keep stopping to rest. Finally, she slipped into bed and lay flat on her back. She closed her eyes and gradually, the world stopped spinning so quickly. She was just drifting away when her eyes snapped open and she sat up abruptly. Mother!
Sitting up was a big mistake. Abby became so dizzy that she felt as if she were falling, even though she was in the middle of the bed. She lay back and closed her eyes until she thought she’d be okay. She snaked her arm out of the bed without opening her eyes and felt for the phone on the nightstand.
Abby talked to her mother and replaced the phone on the table. She looked at it for a moment and then she turned the ringer off. The machine in the kitchen could pick up messages, if there were any. The only person she cared about hearing from was Nick and he wouldn’t call her. They had a date tomorrow morning at eleven on AIM and then he’d be home tomorrow evening.
The bus was supposed to hit Chicago in the late afternoon and then Nick was coming to the apartment from the venue. They figured he’d get there around six. She had a special dinner planned for the two of them. Thank goodness, she’d already done the shopping, thought Abby.
She glanced over at the clock. 5:35. Good. A good night’s sleep, that’s what she needed. That would fix her right up. She closed her eyes and slipped into unconsciousness. She didn’t wake up for eighteen hours.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Nick was so excited he was bouncing. “Tomorrow, tomorrow…” he sang.
“Ya know, Nick,” said Terence. “Sometimes you can get sick of a song…especially if you only hear, ya know, like one line of it over and over.”
Nick grinned at him. “Really?” he asked ingenuously.
“Some people are even driven to violence,” said Terence, squinting his eyes and speaking in a low, menacing voice.
Nick laughed. “Sorry! I’ll try something else.” He paused for a moment and reflected. Then his face brightened. “Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya tomorrow,” he sang. “Sing it with me,” he laughed, holding out his hands.
Terence did. “You’re only a dayyyyyyy aaaa…wayyyyyyy!”
“Look on the bright side, Terence,” said Nick. “Pretty soon, it will be tomorrow and I won’t be singing it any more.”
Terence looked pointedly at his watch. “Well, you’ve got a concert here in a couple of hours…” He paused, then added. “Try not to break into it on stage.”
“Jeez, wouldn’t that freak everyone out!” Nick laughed at the thought.
“And then you can go to sleep on the bus and when you wake up it will be…”
“Tomorrow, tomorrow…” sang Nick.
“Yeah, but it will be today and then you can put this freakin’ song to rest,” said Terence.
“Okay, I get it! I get it!”
“Why don’t you call her?” suggested Terence. He knew Nick wouldn’t. Terence didn’t get this relationship. But he knew one thing. It worked! It surely worked!
Nick would sit down at his computer and rub his hands in anticipation. He would read that precious daily email like it was solid gold. He would laugh the first time he read it. And then he’d read it again. And he’d smile.
And then he’d try to answer it. Terence shook his head. Sometimes it was painful to watch. Nick wanted it to be perfect. He’d furrow his brow and scrunch up his face and type away with his two index fingers, picking out the letters. Then he’d frown and delete and try again. And when he got it the way he wanted it, he’d sit back and read it and then read it again and then read it again. Then his finger would hover over the Send button for a moment…and then finally he’d send it off.
Like having a baby every friggin’ day, thought Terence. He wondered if Abby went through similar labor pains with her daily email. Maybe it came easier for her. She was a damn good writer! But she was also a woman in love…so, maybe not.
Their conversations on AIM never failed to make Nick snort and howl with laughter. Terence tried to be elsewhere when they took place. He felt like he was intruding. But he also knew that Nick never even noticed him; he was too intent on the small screen, his fingers hovering over the keyboard in anticipation. There was a rhythm to it. Beep. Laugh. Type. Pause. Beep…
Terence looked at his watch. “Okay, Boss. Let’s go.”
“Yep,” said Nick. “Time to wow the Texans…and then…”
“Don’t say it,” growled Terence.
Nick grinned. “Okay, I won’t.”
The makeup artist wondered what Nick was humming under his breath the whole time she was painting him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“What’s the matter?”
Terence came out of the bus kitchen with a cup of coffee. Nick was sitting at the table staring at the computer screen. His right arm was crossed in front of him. He was leaning his left elbow on his right wrist. He was tapping his left thumbnail on his teeth. And he wasn’t taking his eyes off the monitor.
“Abby’s late for our date,” muttered Nick, trying to conjure her up by staring intently at the AIM Buddy list.
“She’s never late,” said Terence, without thinking.
“I know,” said Nick. Finally, he looked up. “And she didn’t send me an email this morning either.” He went back to staring at the screen. “I’m a little worried,” he murmured.
Terence sighed. The solution seemed obvious to him. “Why don’t you call her?” He figured Nick would give some lame excuse. He always did.
“I tried,” said Nick, surprising Terence. Hmm, thought the bodyguard, he really is worried. Nick looked up again. “There was no answer. I got the machine.”
Terence could see the worry in Nick’s eyes. “Okay, let’s look at it logically before we panic.”
Nick nodded. Yeah, Terence, stop me from panicking, please. I got a long, friggin’ bus ride here with nothing else to do.
The concert last night had gone well. They were all going well. It was amazing. Even the critics were being kind. The word ‘mature’ appeared in every article…like it was some big, freakin’ surprise to them that the Boys were older.
Nick bounced onto the bus after the concert and tried to will himself to sleep. Blissful unconsciousness would make the hours pass faster. It didn’t work, of course…the more he tried to tell himself to go to sleep, the more he tossed and turned. Finally, he dropped off and had stupid dreams about oversleeping and missing his date with Abby. That made him wake up and look at the clock every five minutes, until finally, around four, he went sound asleep.
Terence let him sleep in until ten. Nick took the hour to wake himself up, get some coffee and breakfast, sing a chorus of Tomorrow. He changed the lyrics to “Todayyyy, todayyyy…” A glance from Terence told him that Nick found the joke funnier than the bodyguard did.
He got fresh coffee and took his position at the computer. He clicked open his email for his morning message. It wasn’t there. He pondered that for a minute and decided that Abby had probably not bothered, since they were going to be talking at eleven. Nick had a pad of paper and a pencil beside him. He liked to make notes. He didn’t type fast and he couldn’t always remember from one message to the next what he wanted to say. Abby typed like the wind, and there were never any pauses in her messages…unless she was thinking…unless she didn’t know what to say.
Nick knew when that would be. He’d tried a couple of times to tell her how he felt about her. Once he had told her how happy he was. Pause. She talked about the tour. He said that he was happy with her too, that he really liked talking with her. Pause. She said she guessed the plan was working out then, because she was happy too. Her mention of the ‘plan’ told him to stop.
Another time, he said that he loved her new story. All the guys love it, he’d said. He knew he’d said the forbidden word. Pause. She said to thank them for her. She was glad they liked it. Nick went on to say that he had especially loved the part where Princess P. had outsmarted Archduke Bunion. Pause. I’m glad you liked it, she replied. It was fun to write.
Nick wondered why this bothered him so much and what he should do about it. He had four older brothers to ask and not one friggin’ clue how to pose the question. Uh, fellas, see…Abby and I got married, and we didn’t love each other and we’re not supposed to use the word, except now I do love her and it’s eating at me that I can’t say it. Except that I’m afraid to say it, in case it fucks everything up. And everything’s good, so why can’t I let it go?
Yeah, he wouldn’t get any strange looks if he said that!
“Maybe she slept in,” suggested Terence.
“She gets up early,” insisted Nick, “even when she doesn’t have to.”
“Well, maybe she had a late night last night. Do you know what she was doing?”
“Yeah, she was having dinner at her parents…tuna casserole…”
The men mulled that over.
“Maybe she stayed over…you know, maybe they got talking and stuff…about the party…”
Nick laughed. “That would probably make her leave!” He paused and looked back at the monitor. “But you could be right. I know they miss her. But I can’t believe she wouldn’t be home in time for our date.”
Terence didn’t understand that either. But there was nothing they could do about it until they got to Chicago. “Why don’t you leave the AIM open? Come on and play a game or something. When she beeps you, we’ll hear it.”
“Okay,” said Nick. He looked at his watch. “She’s got a meeting this afternoon at two. I’m sure I’ll hear from her before then.”
Nick stepped reluctantly away from the computer. Where are you, Abby? Are you okay?
