“I don’t think I should leave you,” Jeff says as he holds my hair.
“Get me some Saltines and I’ll nibble on those. I’m sure I’ll feel better soon. Now, go and stop mothering me. Thanks for holding my hair, and I love you, so scoot.”
I make it back to bed, barely, and Jeff brings me three bottles of water and a box of Saltines, blows me a kiss, and leaves after telling me to call him if I need anything.
I look at the clock. It’s been three hours since Jeff left for school, and with the nap, some water, and Saltines, I’m feeling better. Okay, I feel better as long as I don’t move.
I can’t remember the last time I was sick. I just never had the time. Before I fell asleep, I did call work and tell them I was sick, and my boss was in awe that the mighty Pandora Phillips had allowed a bug to bring her down. I’ve never missed a day of work in more than four years. I should get a medal or something for that. She told me to get better and call her when I was up to it.
I turn on the television and the morning shows are full of helpful hints of what to get and do with your love on this special day. Great. I flip channels, and every movie station is showing romantic films, so I turn it off.
Since I’ve changed my number, I’ve had no more missed calls from Drew. I avoid the tabloids so I don’t have to see that he’s moved on. My heart hasn’t healed like I had hoped it would. I type “how long does it take a broken heart to mend” into to Google, but don’t get a definitive answer. I’ll have to wait, I guess, and then one day it may fix itself.
My cell rings and I grab it off the bedside table. It’s Jeff.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better,” I reply.
“Are you lying to me?”
I roll my eyes as if he can see me.
“Rolling your eyes is not an answer.”
“I’m better—ate a handful of Saltines, drank some water, and thankfully haven’t vomited once since you left. So stop worrying and just enjoy your time with Liam.”
“Okay, but if you need me, I’m only a phone call away. Get some sleep and I’ll call you again in a few hours. Bye, love you.”
“Yeah, love you too.”
I’m drifting in and out of sleep when the phone rings. This time, it’s my mom.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetie.” I hear my dad yelling the same thing in the background. “What exciting plans do you have tonight?”
Should I tell the truth? Hell no. She’ll get in the car and drive here, and that’d be terrible for everyone. I’ll have to lie and hope she buys it.
“Jeff and I are ordering a pizza and then watching romantic comedies all night. What are you and Dad doing?”
“We have dinner reservations. Bridget is out with her friends, and Taylor is going out with—honey, what’s her name again? Skye, that’s it. We haven’t met her yet, but he says she’s nice. And we think Bridget has a crush on someone, but she’s not telling. I wish you’d find a nice guy, not like that jerk you dated for three years. I never liked him. He had beady eyes. Well, you and Jeff have a nice time. While you’re looking for a nice guy, find one for Jeff too. He needs to find happiness. Love you, sweetie.”
That went well. Lie told and believed. So why do I feel dejected? Everyone has a life but me. I can’t even go out looking for anyone with this bug, so I guess I’ll have to wait it out.
What am I saying? I’m still into Drew, and who knows when I’ll get over him.
Depressed now, I switch on the boob tube again and find a movie that isn’t a freaking romance. It’s about the end of the world. Yes, definitely a more fitting choice.
I wake up the next morning with the television is still on. Jeff must not have come home, or he would’ve turned it off.
I get up to go pee and my stomach instantly rebels. I make it to the bathroom with seconds to spare. I’m so over this. I can’t afford to be sick any longer. I need to go back to school and work. I pull myself up from my sitting position on the floor and barely make it to the bed without falling. I cram a Saltine in my mouth and down a sip of water. I’ll just have another nap.
“Are you sure she’s okay?” I hear Julie’s anxious voice.
“She’s just sick. I checked on her all day yesterday and last night, but I didn’t disturb her when I came home this morning since she was sleeping. She needs rest.” Jeff sounds defensive, and I really don’t have the energy to get involved with this discussion.
“You stayed out all night? What if she had fucking died?” Julie isn’t happy. No, she’s not.
“Jules, calm down. Jeff is taking good care of her.” It’s Kevin, the peacemaker.
“He should’ve called me yesterday. I could’ve taken care of her.”
“Yeah, right. It was Valentine’s Day.” Jeff’s getting offensive now.
“Okay, all three of you please talk quietly. I’m trying to get better here.” I finally open my eyes.
“Aww, honey, how are you feeling?” Julie grabs my hand like I’m on my way out.
“Just peachy, especially for someone that has the stomach flu. Maybe you guys should sanitize yourselves and stay away from me. I don’t want anyone else to suffer through this. What am I saying? Julie you’re pregnant. Get out of here. Go wash your hands and leave. You can’t get sick.”
I begin to worry that I may have sat up quickly when a queasy feeling washes over me, and yep, you guessed it. I didn’t make it to the toilet this time. Jeff is there, holding my hair and clucking like a mother hen.
“She’s right. Don’t worry, I won’t leave her until she’s better, so you two leave now.”
I can’t open my eyes. I’m so tired. Jeff helps me back into bed.
The room is dark when I wake up again. I guess Jeff was able to convince Julie and Kevin to leave, since I find myself here alone. My clock says it’s nine, and I’m thirsty.
Turning on the lamp, I see my water supply is nil. I grab a cracker and slowly sit up in the bed, swing my legs to the side of it, and drop my feet to the floor. So far, so good. Stomach isn’t rolling.
I stand up as Jeff walks in the door. My eyes meet his while I try to balance myself and I send him a weak smile. I suddenly feel dizzy and Jeff’s image begins to blur. I hear his voice ring out when I feel myself stagger before collapsing to the floor, and then nothing.
“Ms. Phillips? Dora, can you hear me? Please open your eyes.”
I don’t know this male voice, and my eyes can’t open because it’s too bright.
“Dora, wake up. It’s me, Jeff.”
Duh, Jeff. My mouth is so dry and my head is throbbing. I wish they would turn off the lights.
“Jeff, turn off the lights.” I’m croaking like a frog, wonderful.
“Ms. Phillips, I’m Dr. Banner. You gave your boyfriend and us quite a scare. You probably have a little headache from the bump on the head. Nurse, dim the lights so Ms. Phillips can focus on us.”
Boyfriend? Does he mean Jeff?
“Okay, it’s safe to open your eyes now.” The doctor’s voice is smooth and calming, and I do as he asks.
There’s a crowd surrounding my hospital bed—yes, I’ve figured out that’s where I am. Everyone is smiling but Jeff, who looks like he might pass out any moment. He moves closer, takes my hand and leans down to kiss my forehead which succeeds in bringing tears to my eyes.