by Linda Turner
Okay, so what if he was? he reasoned. They were friends. What was the point of having friends if you couldn’t help them out once in a while?
But even as he picked up the phone to call her, he hung up. No, he thought grimly. She’d sounded as if she had things under control. If she needed help, surely she knew she could call him.
She didn’t call, however. And she didn’t show up for class two days later. More concerned than ever, Max called her between his first and second class, but the answering machine clicked on almost immediately. That worried him even more. Was she all right? Had something horrible happened to the boys? What the hell was going on?
Frustrated, he almost gave his second class a walk so he could drive over to her house and check on her, but he stopped short of that. What if he was overreacting? Just because one of the boys had been sick didn’t mean he still was. Something else could have come up. And he had a responsibility to his class. He couldn’t just turn his back on his students and run over to Natalie’s like some kind of knight on a crazy rescue mission just because she might be in trouble. He’d have to wait until after class.
Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in trouble. The next hour and a half crawled by, and he didn’t help matters by constantly checking his watch. When the bell finally rang, he was out the door almost as fast as his students. He took time only to slap a note on his office door, announcing that he was canceling office hours for the rest of the day. He rushed out to his bike, and five minutes later he was racing around the corner and heading for Natalie’s.
Her car was in the driveway, but the house looked deserted. The blinds were drawn, and when he knocked on the door, no one answered. Pressing an ear to the door, he listened carefully but heard nothing. More worried than ever, he banged loudly enough to wake the dead. “Natalie? Are you in there? It’s Max. Are you okay?”
His only answer was silence.
Scowling, he banged on the door with his fist. He knew she was in there—she had to be! “Natalie? I’m worried sick about you. If you don’t open up in ten seconds, I’m calling the police! Do you hear me?”
With no warning the dead bolt clicked open. “Finally! I’ve been worried sick about you—”
That was as far as he got. The door opened a crack, only to reveal Tommy and Harry confronting him with twin frowns of suspicion. Surprised, he looked past them, but there was no sign of Natalie. “Hey, guys,” he said with a forced lightness he was far from feeling. “Remember me? I sat with you at the football game a couple of weeks ago.”
“You’re Mommy’s teacher.”
“The professor.”
“That’s right.” Relieved, he looked past them into the small entry hall. “I’ve been worried about your mom. She hasn’t been to class all week. Is she all right? Where is she?”
“She’s sick.”
“She threw up. A lot!”
Max shouldn’t have found the situation the least bit amusing because it wasn’t. But Harry—or was it Tommy?—seemed quite impressed with his mother’s illness. Fighting a smile, Max said, “She sounds really sick. Maybe I should come in and check on her just to make sure she’s all right.”
“No!”
“Mommy said no one can come in the house!”
“But she might need my help,” he pointed out. “How long has she been sick? Has she called the doctor? C’mon, guys, you need to let me see her. Your mother will understand—”
Harry’s jaw set stubbornly. “Mommy said—”
“No means no,” his brother finished for him, frowning. “And Mommy means it. You don’t want to get us in trouble, do you?”
“No, of course not!” he said, shocked. “I’m just worried about your mother. I think she’s the one in trouble. She won’t be mad if you let me check on her. I promise. I’ll tell her I talked you into it.”
Not budging so much as a fraction of an inch, they scowled at him with twin expressions of distrust. Torn between frustration and reluctant admiration, he sighed. Now what was he supposed to do? He could push past them, but they wouldn’t forgive him for that, and he couldn’t say he’d blame them. They were respecting their mother’s instructions, and they wouldn’t think much of him if he interfered with that.
“Okay” He sighed, resigned. “I understand why you can’t let me in. You still need to let your mom known I’m here—just in case she wants me to take her to the doctor. I’ll wait here while you go tell her.”
For a long moment, he didn’t think they would even do that. They hesitated, distrust clear in their eyes as they frowned at him. Then their gazes met, and without saying a word, they came to a decision. “You can’t come in until Mommy says it’s okay,” the twin blocking the door warned.
“I won’t budge an inch,” Max assured him, fighting a smile. “I promise.”
Before either boy could go in search of Natalie, however, she stepped into the entrance hall, looking as pale as death. Sweeping her tumbled hair back from her face, she frowned at him in confusion. “Max? What are you doing here?”
“He wanted us to let him in,” one of the boys said quickly.
“Even when we told him you said no,” the other twin added. “Did we do the right thing, Mommy?”
A weak smile curled the edges of her mouth as her sons moved protectively to her side. “Absolutely, sweetheart.”
“I was worried about you,” Max told her huskily, scowling as his gaze moved over her. “You look awful.”
Awful, in fact, didn’t begin to describe her. There were dark circles under her eyes, her face was white as a sheet, and she must have lost ten pounds in the last week. She looked like one good wind would blow her away, and it was all he could do not to cross to her and sweep her up into his arms.
For no other reason than that, he should have gotten the hell out of there. She stirred protective feelings in him that he hadn’t even known he had, and it should have taken nothing more than that to make him avoid her like the plague. But he couldn’t make himself walk away. Not when she was so sick.
Frustrated with himself, concerned for her, he scowled. “Have any of your friends been by to help you? What about Susan? She babysits the boys, right? Does she know you’re sick? She must have come by to check on you. Surely she wouldn’t let you go through this all by yourself.”
“I wouldn’t let her help,” she replied. “She’s got kids of her own. I couldn’t take a chance on giving it to them.”
“You should have called me. I was worried sick when I called and no one answered the phone.”
“Mommy told us to unplug the phone so she could sleep,” one of the twins volunteered. “We forgot to plug it back up.”
He looked so apologetic that Max had to smile. “That’s okay, sport. I guess you guys were pretty busy taking care of your mom. You must be ready for a break. How about a pizza? Why don’t you go get your jackets on and we’ll go get one at Airport Pizza? I still owe you one. Remember? Since we didn’t go after the football game, I promised to take you one day soon. Today’s your lucky day…if it’s okay with your mom, of course.”
Their eyes sparkling with excitement, they glanced up at Natalie hopefully. “Can we, Mom? Can we?”
“We’ll be good! Please?”
She hesitated, and for a moment Max thought she was going to say no. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to,” he told her.
“Don’t say no, Mom!
“You can sleep while we’re gone. We’ll turn the TV off before we leave, and it’ll be real quiet!”
Hesitating, she knew she should have said no. He’d made it more than clear that he wasn’t the kind of man who wanted the responsibility of a wife and family, so to continue any kind of relationship with him when she was so attracted to him was pure madness. But her defenses were down, she was sick as a dog, and when her eyes met his, all she wanted to do was let him take care of her. Just this once, she told herself. What would it hurt?
“All right.” She sighed. “Take the
Honda. The keys are on the hook by the back door. And mind your manners,” she warned the boys, only to laugh when they launched themselves at her and gave her two fierce hugs. “No playing tricks on Professor Sullivan. He might not appreciate the twin thing.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison. “No tricks. We promise.”
Watching them, Max grinned. They’d obviously made that same promise many times before, and it sounded good. But they both had sparks of mischief in their eyes, and he could just imagine what he was in for. “I can handle them,” he promised Natalie. “What about you? Can I get you anything? Soup? Something at the grocery store? A potpie or something?”
Right before his eyes, her smile faded and she turned a light shade of green. “I don’t think so,” she said faintly, pressing a hand to her throat. “Food sounds…I don’t even want to think about it.”
She swayed on her feet, and in two steps Max reached her. Sweeping her up in his arms, he growled, “Okay. Back to bed for you. Where’s your bedroom?”
“Down the hall,” she said faintly, closing her eyes on a groan. “But I can walk.”
“So can I, and right now I’ll do it for both of us. Show me the way, boys.”
He didn’t have tell them twice. They ran down the hall and had the covers pulled back on her antique iron bed before Max carried her through the doorway. He had only an impression of pale-yellow walls, frilly curtains and bedding, before he gently laid her on the bed.
The green tint had faded from her face, leaving her as pale as the sheets, and all he wanted to do was gather her up in his arms and hold her close. Later, that need would haunt his sleep. Laying his palm against her forehead, he frowned. “You’re hot. How long have you had a fever? Have you taken any aspirin?”
“A half hour ago,” she said with a sigh as he pulled the covers over her and she sank deeper into her pillow. “It’ll kick in in a minute. I just need to rest. I’m so tired.”
Standing on the other side of the bed, the boys gazed at her solemnly as she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep. From the sudden glint in both their eyes, he knew they were both going to start crying at any second, and that horrified him. “She’s going to be okay, guys,” he promised them quietly as he quickly hustled them out of the room and shut the door. “She just needs to rest. While she’s sleeping, why don’t we go to the grocery store and see if we can find something she might want to eat when she’s feeling better? Then we’ll get the pizza. How does that sound?”
For a second he thought they were going to refuse. They glanced back over their shoulders at the door to Natalie’s room and hesitated. Then Harry—or was it Tommy—looked up at him with the grin of a con artist. “Can we have extra cheese if we go quietly?”
“And lots and lots of pepperoni?” his brother added. “I love pepperoni!”
“No! We always get pepperoni. I want sausage and ham!”
Amused, Max grinned. So they didn’t have red hair for nothing. What had he gotten himself into? “C’mon, guys, don’t fight. You can both get your own personal pizza. How’s that? We’ll even get dessert. How about banana splits? We’ll buy the stuff at the store and make them ourselves. Okay?”
He didn’t have to ask them twice. “Race you to the car,” they both challenged and sprinted down the hall to the living room.
“I get the front seat!”
“No! I do.”
Grabbing the keys from the hook by the back door, Max caught up with them at the car, where they both had a death grip on the passenger side door and were trying to muscle the other one out of position. Fighting a grin, Max struggled to summon up a frown of disapproval. “No one gets the front seat but me. And I guess the banana splits are going to have to wait until another day.”
Alarmed, they both stopped in mid push, and to their credit—and Natalie’s—they didn’t make excuses. Instead, they had the grace to apologize.
“We’re sorry.”
“We won’t do it again. Scout’s honor!”
Surprised, Max lifted a dark brow at them. “You’re Scouts? No kidding? So was I.”
They couldn’t have looked more surprised if he’d told them he had a two-headed dog. “You were not! Really?”
“Did you ever go to camp? Mom says we might get to go next summer.”
“You’ll love it,” he assured them, grinning. “We used to have spitball fights when the counselors weren’t around. It was great!”
The words were hardly out of his mouth when he saw interest spark in their eyes, and too late he realized that Natalie might not appreciate him sharing that kind of information with them. But they were boys, for heaven’s sake. And if a spitball fight was the worst thing they ever did, then she could consider herself lucky. Growing up, he’d gotten into a lot more trouble than that. That, however, was something he didn’t intend to share with them, he thought. Natalie would kill him if he put any more ideas in their heads.
By the time he pulled into Natalie’s driveway an hour later, the boys were chatting with him like old friends. They helped him carry everything from pizzas to ice cream to three different varieties of canned soup and potpies into the kitchen, and they were so excited, they could hardly contain themselves. When Natalie discovered what he’d bought, she would, no doubt, accuse him of spoiling them all, but what was wrong with that? She obviously lived on a strict budget—she had to since her ex was a deadbeat—so that didn’t allow her the chance to indulge the boys very much. What would it hurt to buy them a treat? They were good kids. He didn’t think he could have taken as good care of his mom if she’d gotten sick when he was in kindergarten. They deserved a little reward.
“Okay, guys, how about a movie?” he said after putting the ice cream and pot pies in the freezer of the refrigerator.
“The Lion King!” they cried in unison.
“Works for me,” he said with a grin. Spying the DVD player on the top shelf of the entertainment center, he frowned. “Does your mom let you put the movies in yourself or does she do it?”
“No, we can do it,” Tommy assured him.
Working as a team, the boys plopped their pizzas on the coffee table and pulled a footstool over to the entertainment center. In five seconds flat Tommy had the movie in and Harry worked the remote control. The second the movie came on, the boys were totally engrossed. Never taking their eyes from the television screen, they reached blindly for their pizzas and sank down onto the living room rug to watch their movie.
That was easy enough, Max thought with a grin, and headed back to the kitchen. Not surprisingly, it was a mess. The sink was overflowing with dishes, the trashcan was in desperate need of being emptied, and the counters and kitchen table were loaded down with more dirty dishes, empty food containers that wouldn’t fit in the trash and clean pots from the dishwasher that hadn’t been put away. The place couldn’t have looked much worse if it’d been hit by a tornado.
Taking it all in in a single glance, Max had no difficulty imaging what it must have been like for Natalie when the boys were sick. She obviously hadn’t had time to put the dishes away, let alone clean, before she, herself, came down with the same stomach bug. If the boys were half as sick as she was, it was no wonder the place was a disaster area.
When she was feeling better, Max knew she would be mortified that he’d seen her house in such condition, but it couldn’t be helped. And if she was anything like his mother, the last thing she’d want an outsider to do was come in and clean her house—which was why he had no intention of telling her what he intended to do until after the fact. Rolling up his sleeves, he unloaded the dishwasher and went to work.
Forty minutes later the dishes were done and the trash had been consigned to the garbage can in the garage. The boys were still glued to the television and thoroughly enjoying their movie, so he hurried down the hall to Natalie’s room to see how she was doing. Not wanting to wake her if she was sleeping, he silently turned the knob and peeked inside. She was, as he’d hoped, still sleeping, but the
nap she took was far from a restful one. The covers were tossed, her pillow had fallen to the floor, and as he watched her she moaned in her sleep. In three long strides, he was beside her.
“Natalie? Sweetheart?”
She only moaned again and turned toward him in her sleep. Concerned, he gently laid his hand on her forehead. She was burning up.
Chapter 7
Somewhere in the far-off reaches of sleep, Natalie felt his hand on her forehead, tenderly stroking her. But it was the worry in his husky voice that called to her. Frowning, she struggled to respond, but the sleep that held her in its grip was thick and heavy and hot and didn’t want to let her go.
“Natalie? Can you hear me, sweetheart? Wake up.”
Did he know what he asked of her? she thought groggily. Ten-pound weights seemed to be sitting on her eyelids, but somehow she managed to force them open. Almost immediately she realized her mistake. Even with that slight movement her stomach grumbled threateningly. With a groan she slammed her eyes shut. “I can’t,” she whispered hoarsely. “I feel awful.”
“I know, honey, but you’re burning up with fever. Are you sure you took some aspirin at three?”
“The boys were watching Scooby-Doo,” she said, frowning as she tried to remember. “It comes on at three.”
“And it’s five-thirty now.”
Confused, she blinked. “Five-thirty! But I just lay down. Where are the boys? I need to see about supper—”
“The boys are fine,” he assured her. “They each have their own pizza and they’re sitting in front of the TV watching The Lion King. You’re the one I’m worried about. We’re going to have to do something about your fever. Think you could manage a cool bath? It’ll help bring the fever down.”
She knew he was right, but tears welled in her eyes just at the thought of getting out of bed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this sick, and she hated it.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he murmured, gently wiping away the tears that spilled from her eyes. “You’re not fighting this alone anymore. Okay?”