She woke up just before noon. Her eyelids creaked open. It was painful. Her skin felt like she’d been peeled. Her ear hurt and she was running a fever.
She looked at the clock. It took her a long time to understand it. At first, she thought it was approaching midnight, that she’d been asleep for nearly seven hours. But there was something wrong with that theory. She couldn’t figure it out. She turned her head to the window and the bright sunlight streaming through it gave her the answer.
Omigod, she thought. I’ve slept nearly…she tried to do the math, but she was just too sick.
She forced herself to sit up, even though every part of her told her not to. Every part of her except her bladder, which suggested that it might in fact be an excellent idea to get out of bed. It took her a long time. Every movement hurt. Her joints ached. She made it to the bathroom and sat down on the toilet. “Oww,” she whimpered, as her thighs made contact with the toilet seat. She braced herself with one hand on the wall and one on the edge of the tub. The dizziness washed over her. It hurt to urinate, even though there wasn’t much output.
She sat there for a long while, afraid to get up again. Finally, she did, holding tight to the wall as she stood. She made her way to the sink and washed her hands. Omigod, look at you, she said to herself as she glanced in the mirror. Her face was bright red. Her eyes were sunken into her face. Her hair was a mess. Abby reached a hand up to brush it off her face. “Oww,” she said again.
She made her way slowly to the kitchen. She made herself a cup of tea and looked at the pill bottle. She did calculations and realized that she’d missed two. Should she take them now? Or maybe space them out but make up the difference…say every eight hours instead of twelve…? She picked up the bottle. Take with food. No, she wasn’t hungry. She didn’t want to eat. She wanted to be horizontal again. She wanted to go back to bed. She took one of the pills and swallowed it, washing it down with a sip of tea.
She made her way out of the kitchen, moving carefully, concentrating on not spilling the tea. She didn’t even notice the blinking light on the answering machine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“Might as well turn it off,” said Nick, shutting down his computer “She won’t be answering now. She has a meeting.”
“Okay,” said Terence. He figured if Nick thought she was at a meeting, then he wasn’t imagining her dead on the floor or whatever.
“I’m sure she’s okay,” added the bodyguard. “She probably got involved in preparations for your big homecoming and lost track of time.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it. Well, it’s 1:30 now. We’re supposed to get to the venue around 4:00. I’ll find out then.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Abby crawled back into bed. The cup of tea sat untouched on the nightstand. She put her head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Her eyes drifted shut, then blinked open. She looked at the painting at the foot of the bed. She really liked it. She saw something different in it every time. She knew Nick liked it too.
Nick… Abby sighed. He’d be home soon. Today. He’d be home today. Omigod, look at me. I can’t look like this. I can’t be sick. Nick’s coming home.
A tear slid down her face and she whimpered. She had to get up. She had to get in the shower. She had to get ready. She looked at the clock. He’d be here around six. Maybe if she just slept a little bit more and then she could get ready for him. Yes, that was better. If she got ready now, she’d be all tired and sick again by the time he arrived. Yes, sleep a little more. That was a good plan…a good plan. Her eyes drifted shut and stayed that way for two more hours.
Nick. Abby woke up with his name on her lips. She looked at the clock. 2:25. Okay, time to get up and get ready. She couldn’t wait to see him, to hold him…to see his face, to hear his voice… for real, this time. She always imagined his voice when she read his emails or talked to him on AIM. She could hear him in her head.
Abby blinked and then concentrated hard. Something was eluding her, hovering on the edge of her consciousness. Something…omigod, she’d missed her date with him. She leapt out of bed and promptly fell in a heap to the floor. Stay down! her body commanded her.
No, she whimpered. Nick…I have to tell Nick I’m sorry. Abby crawled to the doorway. It hurt her knees. She sat in the doorway for a minute, her back braced against the frame. It was a long, long way up the hall to her study. She lay down on the carpet for a moment. Just for a moment, she told herself…just until I can get the strength to move again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Nick clicked open his email. “There’s one from Abby,” he called out.
Terence rushed back to the table. “What’s it say?” he blurted, then realized that maybe it was none of his business. Except that keeping Nick sane was his business and the young blond man was a wreck.
Nick read the message quickly, scanning the lines. Then he narrowed his eyes and read it slowly. “She’s sick,” he said finally. “Really sick. Tell Tony we’re not going to the venue. Tell him he’s taking us right to the apartment. And tell him to drive faster.” He spun the computer in Terence’s direction.
Terence peered at the message.
Dear Nick,
I’m sorry I missed our date this mroning. I slept in. I have a litle ear infection. I’m sure I’ll be berter by the time you get here.
Love,
Abby
“Why the panic?” asked Terence. “She seems okay.”
“Are you kidding?” said Nick. “Look at that. There’s three typos.”
And? Terence shrugged.
“Terence, that’s three more typos than she’s ever had. Tell Tony to drive this bus!!!”
Terence went to relay the message to the driver and Nick looked at the monitor again. It wasn’t the typos that told him that Abby wasn’t herself. It was another word. He grabbed the phone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Abby tried to have a shower. She thought seriously about it and she planned to do it. She had gone back to bed for an hour after she sent Nick the message, but she planned on having the shower as soon as she could get up. When she got into the bathroom, though, it was just too much for her. She combed her hair, wincing in pain at the feel of the comb on her scalp. She put her hair back in an elastic and hoped it wouldn’t look too awful.
On her way back to bed, she stopped and turned her good ear to the door. Had she heard a ringing? Was it the phone or just the ear infection? She picked up the phone from the table but no one was there. Should she go to the kitchen and check the machine? Maybe in a minute… She turned the ringer back on and set the phone down again. I’ll check in a minute. I’m just going to lay down for a minute.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“Why isn’t she answering?” demanded Nick.
Terence had no idea but he gave it a shot. “Maybe she’s asleep…or in the shower…”
Nick paced up and down. “Where are we…exactly?”
Terence got the map from Tony and showed Nick where they were. They figured out how much longer it would take to get there. Too long.
“Tony wants to know the shortest route to your apartment,” said Terence, after he’d handed the map back to the driver.
“How the hell would I know?” said Nick. “I don’t know Chicago. Abby does the driving.”
“Well, do you know your address?” asked Terence.
“Of course, I do,” said Nick. “What kind of question…?”
“Get on Mapquest,” said Terence, pointing at the computer. “It will give you directions right to the door.”
“Good idea,” said Nick, relieved to have something to do, some purpose, some feeling that he was doing something to get him to Abby faster. He opened up the website and clicked on Driving Directions.
“Where the hell should I say I’m coming from?” asked Nick. “I don’t need directions all the way from Dallas.”
Terence looked out the window. “Urbana,” he said, spotting a sign. “Say you’re coming from Urbana, Illinois.”
Nick typed in the information and was rewarded by explicit instructions on how to get to his front door. He wrote it out and Terence took it to the driver.
Terence came back into the room to find Nick punching the redial button on his phone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The phone rang twice before Abby figured out what the sound was. She picked it up and in a small voice said, “Hello.”
“Abby?” The relief in his voice was evident. On the bus, his shoulders sagged with it. Terence put a comforting hand on his arm and squeezed it.
“Nick.”
“Oh God, Abby, are you okay?”
“Yes, Nick, I’m fine.” Abby looked down at herself. Yeah, right! “I’ve got an ear infection, that’s all. I’ve been sleeping most of the day.” She struggled to pull herself into a sitting position. She had to start somewhere.
Nick could tell by her voice that she was not fine. He’d never heard her sound so…so frail. “I figured…when you didn’t answer the phone…”
“I’m sorry…I turned off the ringer. I should have checked the machine, though. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s just that I was worried. You missed our date and then you sent me that email. That really freaked me out.”
“What did I say? I don’t even remember.” Oh God, thought Abby, what have I done?
Nick laughed. “There were typing mistakes. You never make typing mistakes. I…uh…I kind of freaked out a little, started yelling at Terence…”
“Never a good plan,” said Abby, weakly. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and then took some deep breaths to steady herself.
“No, you’re right about that. Anyway, we’re close…and I’m coming straight to the apartment. I’ll be there soon.”
“Nick, maybe you shouldn’t…I mean, the doctor said that it wasn’t contagious but…I’d hate to make you sick…maybe you shouldn’t come here…”
“I’m not letting you be alone,” he said. “If it’s not contagious, it’s not. I’m not afraid.” He paused. “Unless you don’t want me there,” he continued tentatively.
If you only knew, thought Abby. “Of course, I want you here, but…”
“Or maybe I should call your mother…get her to come over.”
“Well, I see no reason for you to be mean,” said Abby.
Nick laughed. “That’s my girl. I’ll be there soon. We’re on the…the Dan Ryan Expressway.”
“Yes, you’re close.” Abby pulled on her robe and made her way to the study. She clicked open her email and went to Sent Messages. She stared at the message for a moment. What an idiot you are, she told herself.
She made her way to the front of the apartment, listening to Nick and giving one-syllable responses. She unlocked the door and then went into the living room. She sat on the sofa, trying to present herself in the best way, like someone with a mild illness, not someone on the verge of death.
Nick talked and Abby gave short answers as he told her that they’d left the Expressway… now they were on LaSalle…now they were turning onto Lakeshore Blvd.
Closer and closer. Come home to me, Nick. You’re so close. Come home to me. Abby felt herself getting more and more horizontal. She leaned her head down on the arm of the sofa. She could sit up again when he came through the door.
“Mmm,” she replied to the next three things he said. She had kind of lost track and it was just easier. The phone was getting heavier and heavier in her hand.
“Hang up, Abby,” he said suddenly. “We’re here.”
Abby punched the End button on the phone and dropped it on the floor. He was here. She had to sit up now. She had to stand up. Nick was here. She pulled herself to a sitting position, taking a moment to re-establish her equilibrium. Come on, come on. She exhaled a series of short, puffy breaths, the kind they tell women in labor to do to make it easier, and then she stood up. She straightened her robe and stood with one hand on the back of an armchair. There! She was ready.
Nick bounded through the door, Terence on his heels. Nick stopped short.
“Omigod, Abby, you look awful.”
