“I saw that,” Larry says and smiles as Joy squats to give Nancy all of the belly rubs in the world.
“Oh, I’ve missed you, sweet girl.” Nancy grunts in delight. “Yes, I have. How are you, baby girl? Her eye looks good.”
“Yep, everything has been just fine,” Larry says with a grin. “She might have gained a pound because she likes table scraps.”
“You shouldn’t feed her people food,” Joy says, not looking up from the bulldog. “But I’m sure she loves it.”
“We should go,” Larry says.
“Oh, you don’t want to stay for dinner?”
“No, I have chili on the stove at home. I just came to say hello.”
Joy gives her dad a big hug before Larry and Nancy leave. She falls onto the couch and sighs.
“Not a good day?” I ask.
“I had to send a tech home because she caught the flu from another tech, who came to work with it last week,” she says and rubs her hands over her face. “So, we’ve been short-handed, and of course, it’s a full moon, so we’re busier than normal.”
“So that’s not just a people hospital thing?” I say, sitting next to her and pulling her into my arms so I can kiss her head and give her a cuddle.
“No, I think it’s a medical thing, regardless of the species,” she says. “What’s for dinner? Please tell me I don’t have to cook.”
“Chinese takeout. It’s on the way.”
“You’re the best boyfriend ever.”
“I know.” I kiss her head again.
I’m aiming for being the best husband ever.
“Hi, Susan, it’s Joy,” Joy says into her phone from the bed. She’s curled in a ball, under the covers. They’re even pulled up over her head.
I fucking hate it when she’s sick. I can open up a chest and replace a heart, but I can’t save her from the flu.
It’s fucking ridiculous.
“I’ve succumbed to the flu,” she croaks into the phone. “Throwing up like crazy. Uh-huh. No, I’m not pregnant.”
That gives me pause.
“I have chills and aches and a fever, Susan. It’s the flu. Can you call Dr. Miller and ask her to fill in for me today? Thanks. I’ll check in tomorrow morning.”
She hangs up, and suddenly her phone is flung out from under the covers, but she’s still hiding under there.
In the past, the idea of a woman I was with being pregnant would have filled my stomach with lead and my heart with dread, but the thought of Joy being round with my baby isn’t horrible at all.
I want her to be my wife. I want to have a family with her, endure the sleepless nights and the diapers and everything else that goes along with it.
“I’m dying.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” I rush into the bathroom and wet a washcloth with cold water, then take it back to her and peel back the covers to find her sweaty beneath them. “You have a fever. Where’s your thermometer?”
“Bathroom cabinet,” she says, holding the cloth to her forehead. “Why do they bring this shit to work? I give them sick days so they will take them when they’re sick, not cash them out at the end of the year. I think I have to stop offering that option. If you don’t use your sick time, you lose it.”
“They’ll call in when they’re not sick.”
“But they’ll call when they are, and that’s the point because this is bullshit.”
I stick the thermometer in her ear and pull it back out. “Just over one hundred.”
“At least it’s not too bad,” she says with a sigh. “I’ll sleep it off and be better tomorrow.”
“If you’re lucky.” I lean down to kiss her, but she recoils.
“You can’t kiss me. You need a mask. I don’t want you to get sick.”
“I won’t,” I promise her, but she shakes her head adamantly.
“No kissing. And you can’t sleep with me. You should probably just go home until this blows over.”
“When pigs fly,” I mutter. “Go to sleep, babe. I’ll take care of Angela and get you some soup.”
At the mention of food, her eyes widen in terror, and she makes a run for the bathroom, hurling her guts out.
I wring out the washcloth and press it to her neck as she dry heaves, her whole body lifting.
“Poor baby,” I murmur, rubbing her back in circles. “I hate this.”
“Me, too,” she whimpers. “No food for now, okay?”
“No, it seems you can’t tolerate it yet, but I am getting some water and apple juice. You can sip it.”
“Okay.”
“I can’t have you dehydrated.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want me to find something on Netflix for you?”
“No, I want to sleep,” she whispers, leaning on her forearm, still poised over the toilet. I pull her into my arms and carry her back to the bed, but before I put her under the covers, I change her clothes into something cleaner and more comfortable, get a fresh washcloth, then tuck her in.
Before I can leave to fetch the water, she tugs on my hand, pulling me in for a hug.
“Thank you, Dr. Crawford. It’s handy having a doctor around when you don’t feel good.”
“I feel absolutely worthless,” I mutter. “If you needed bypass surgery, I could do that no problem. I’m not good at this part.”
“You’re amazing,” she says. “And I’m grateful. It sucks to be sick and alone, so thanks for sticking around.”
“Nowhere else I’d rather be, sweetheart. Now, let me get Angela outside and grab you some water.”
I tuck her in and hurry out of the room. I have one set of linens that she’s already sweated through in the wash, so I throw those into the dryer on my way downstairs. I let Angela outside and check on the puppies, who are starting to roam around the box and make more noise. They’re adorable. Before long, though, they won’t want to be confined to their pen.
With Angela back in with her pups, I grab a bottle of water and a glass of juice and hurry back up to the bedroom. Joy isn’t in bed.
I set the provisions down and find her wrapped around the toilet, asleep on her arms.
Poor baby.
I lift her again and tuck her into bed. She doesn’t even wake up.
With her sleeping, I set to work cleaning the toilet and the rest of the bathroom. I don’t know how long she’ll be sick, and if she’s going to spend most of the time kneeling in front of the toilet, it should be clean for her.
I shake my head as I kneel to hand-mop behind the toilet. If you’d told me a year ago that this is what I’d be doing on a Tuesday afternoon rather than saving a life in surgery, I would have called you a liar.
But I’m not sorry. I hate the circumstances, but it’s been awesome getting to know Joy in a different way and falling in love with her. Being with her almost every day.
She’s everything good in this world.
And she’s mine.
~Joy~
“It’s been three days,” I say into the phone to my doctor.
“The flu can take five to ten days to run its course,” she reminds me. “And at this point, it’s too late for an anti-viral. You need to just let it run its course.”
“I have a business to run,” I grumble. “I have patients.”
“And you can’t do them any good when you’re sick. Stay in bed, get plenty of fluids, eat what you can handle. Make sure you watch that fever.”
“Okay.” I sigh. I already know all of this.
“If you get worse, come into the urgent care. The flu sucks, it’s inconvenient, but it can be dangerous, so make sure you’re watching yourself.”
“I will,” I promise. “Thanks.”
Actually, I’m not watching myself, Jace is watching me. And he’s been hovering like a worried mother hen.
It was sweet at first, but as of this morning, it crossed over into annoying. So, I shooed him out the door to his house to work on some projects with Levi and Wyatt. He put up a bit of a fight, but I think he wa
s relieved to get out for a while, and not be on nurse duty.
I can’t blame him. I’m going stir-crazy, and I’m the sick one.
I’ve moved my “sick station” as I call it down to the couch in the living room. This way, I can keep an eye on Angela and the babies.
Carl’s been following me around for the past few days, hovering as much as Jace does. But he doesn’t nag me to drink my water.
Angela jumps out of her box, leaving her pups to nap alone, and cuddles up with me on the couch.
“You’re a sweet girl,” I croon to her and smile when she kisses my chin. “Yes, you’re just a lover.”
She sighs and lays across my lap, falling asleep almost instantly. Carl is curled up on the top of the couch where he can watch over us from his perch.
I wasn’t lying to Jace the other day when I told him it sucks to be sick and alone. So, I call Noel and ask her to come keep me company.
She arrives thirty minutes later, with warm broth and more saltine crackers.
“Hey,” she says when she walks in and sees the three of us on the couch. “You don’t look so good.”
“I don’t feel good,” I reply, scowling. “Here, put this on.”
She scowls at the face mask in my hand.
“No way.”
“Seriously, you need to wear this so you don’t get sick.”
“You called me,” she says, shaking her head as she sets the broth and crackers on the coffee table, then sits across the room from me on a chair, sans mask. “I’ll be over here, out of the germ zone.”
“Noel.”
“Joy,” she mimics, and I narrow my eyes at her, making her laugh. “Tell me about your date the other night.”
“First of all, nice suit you chose,” I say, and she grins without denying that she took Jace shopping. “He looked hot in it.”
“Right? So hot. You’re welcome. Tell me everything.”
“Dinner was delicious and eventful.” I tell her all about the woman stopping at our table, ignoring me and hitting on Jace.
“Bitch,” Noel says with a scowl. “I’m surprised you didn’t trip her.”
“Well, I thought about it, but I don’t think that was her first rodeo. She knew exactly what she was doing, and how it would make everyone at the table feel.”
“Tramp,” Noel mutters. “I just don’t understand. Why are women so horrible to each other? Why are they so desperate to tear each other down? Because that’s exactly what that is, desperation.”
“I don’t know. I mean, if it were me, and I’d had a couple of romps with Jace and had a crush on him but saw that he was with someone else, I might have said hi, but I wouldn’t have made a big production of it like that.”
“Of course, not,” she says. “And if she thinks that’s the way to make men come running to her, well, she’s not very good at this.”
“That’s just it, do men go for that sort of thing? Because it was not sexy to me, and Jace was pissed.”
“As he should be.”
“But maybe some men would think it’s hot?”
“If they do, they’re not the men we want putting their penises in our vaginas,” she says with a sigh. “How was the show?”
“So good. Totally lives up to the hype. The rest of the evening was a lot of fun.”
“Good, I’m glad she didn’t ruin it for you.”
“It’s not his fault, although he did apologize. And he felt the need to tell me about her, I guess to get it all out in the open.”
“That’s good. Even though I’m sure you didn’t want to know much, it’s good that he doesn’t feel like he has something to hide, or that he doesn’t want you to be privy to everything.”
“I’d rather he be honest, yes,” I agree. “So, that’s about it.”
“That’s it? The outfits I picked out didn’t lead to some earth-rocking sex?”
“Well, yeah. That happened.” I shrug a shoulder. “But I’m not telling you about it.”
“Damn. Well, should we just watch some Netflix then?”
“Let’s do it.”
I’m finally feeling better.
It seems the fourth day is the charm. I’m still stuck at home, but I’m not throwing up, the fever is gone, and I’m only a little achy.
I’ll take it.
But I am suffering from cabin fever. Jace came and spent the night with me again last night, but I encouraged him to go back to his place today to continue working on his projects. We don’t know how long he’ll be off work, so he should get as much done as he can, and babysitting me isn’t productive.
Especially now that I’m not helpless anymore.
Angela has been hopping in and out of her box. The puppies are more restless, wanting to roam around and play. In another week, I’ll be weaning them off their mother’s milk and giving them puppy food.
I can’t believe how quickly they grow.
“Hey, girl,” I say to Angela as she comes to my side and nudges my leg, wanting some love. “Do you have some cabin fever, too? Maybe we should go for a walk.”
Some fresh air sounds just perfect, so I grab a leash and my sweatshirt, and we’re off, on the same route that I used to take Nancy on.
I have no doubt that Angela will learn the route in time. She has a tendency to pull on the leash, so I have to take my time, teaching her how to behave. But by the time we’re headed back to the house, she’s calmed down and is walking by my side.
Yes, she’s going to be a snap to train. German Shepherds are highly intelligent. It’s why they’re such good service and police dogs.
Just as I walk through the door and Angela scrambles over to her box to check on the pups, my phone rings.
“Hi, Levi.”
“Hey, Joy.” His voice sounds weird. “Wyatt’s in L.A. with Lia, and Mom and Dad are on vacation. Jace won’t answer his fucking phone.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I need a ride,” he says grimly. “I’ve been shot.”
My whole world stills. “You’ve what? Are you at the hospital?”
“Yeah, at the ER. I’ve been discharged, but—”
“I’ll be right there.”
I hang up on him, grab my keys and purse, and race to the hospital, breaking several speeding laws on the way.
My God, Levi was shot! We always knew this was a possibility, but I never thought it would actually happen. I wonder how bad it is. Is he bleeding too badly? Is he in a coma?
“Jesus, calm down. None of that is the case if they discharged him. And, you talked to him.”
I shake my head as I turn into the ER parking lot. I hurry inside and find Levi sitting in a chair in the waiting room. His right jeans’ leg has been cut up to his hip, and he has gauze wrapped around his thigh. He stands, and I rush to him.
“Oh, thank God.” I wrap my arms around his stomach and hug him tightly. “You’re okay.”
“I told you I was discharged,” he says, patting my back awkwardly. “You can just take me home.”
“Like hell,” I mutter as he limps beside me out to the car. “I’m not taking you home. You’re on painkillers.”
“So?”
“So, you shouldn’t be alone,” I say as I pull out of the parking lot and head toward home. “You’ll come stay with me today.”
“I don’t need a mother,” he grumbles. “I just want to go home and fall asleep for about twenty-four hours.”
“I’m the boss,” I reply. “And you’ll do what I say. You need to come home with me.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Don’t care,” I say as if there’s no room for argument. “How did it happen?”
“Fucking drug dealers,” he murmurs and leans his head against the door. I frown over at him and want to ask more questions, but he’s already asleep.
I wonder why he couldn’t reach Jace. I’ll try to call him when I get home.
But when I turn the corner to my house, Jace’s car is in the driveway.
; I pull to a stop and reach over to nudge Levi. “Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up. I have a guest room waiting for you.”
“Just take me the fuck home.”
“No.” Not intimidated in the least, I get out and hurry around the car to help Levi from the vehicle. He leans on me as we walk into the house.
“There you are,” Jace begins when he sees me, then stops in his tracks at the sight of Levi’s arm wrapped around my shoulders. “What the hell happened?”
“He’s been shot,” I inform him.
“Tried to call you,” Levi says.
“I was driving, and the sound was off on my phone,” Jace says. “You didn’t leave a message.”
“Called Joy,” he says.
“Those are some good pain meds,” I comment as I lead him through the house to the guest room, grateful that it’s on the first floor.
“Let me look at it,” Jace says, reaching for the bandage on his brother’s leg, but Levi shakes his head. “Already had it looked at. Stitched up. I can’t even feel it.”
“Just wait until those meds wear off, pal,” Jace says grimly. “Did the bullet go through?”
“It was a graze,” Levi says. “Just took a chunk of flesh out. It’ll heal.”
“Who did it?”
“Perp,” Levi says with a shrug and yawns as he falls onto the bed. He’s snoring before Jace can ask any more questions.
“Damn it,” Jace mutters, looking at Levi with worried eyes. “I’m sorry I missed the call.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad I was around to go get him. I didn’t realize your parents were on vacation.”
“Belize,” he says with a nod. “And Wyatt and Lia left for L.A. this morning.”
“That’s what he said. I’m going to run upstairs to get my thermometer.”
Jace nods, and I rush upstairs and back again in less than twenty seconds. “His temp is normal.”
“We’ll watch him for fever,” Jace says. “But if the hospital cleaned him up, he should be okay.”
“We’ll watch him anyway,” I agree and pat his shoulder. “Let’s let him sleep.”
“You must be feeling better,” he comments as we walk into the kitchen.
“Much better today,” I confirm. “I’m just a little tired and achy, especially in my hips.” I rub them and rock back and forth. “Probably from all the lying around I did. But I’m not throwing up every ten minutes.”
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