by Skyy
“I didn’t, but you’re welcome to mine,” she said and sipped her juice. “Anyway, here is the theme, and here is the venue,” she said.
As I ate my steak bagel, I half listened to all her extravagant plans and thought they were a bit much, but the glow in her eyes was like nothing was too good for Lance, and I then kind of got on board, because there was nothing too good for Lynn. I waited for her to add up the charges for what she had come up with so far, and then I wrote her a check.
Once she finally shut up and left, I went to pop the other steak bagel in the microwave and discovered that my wife had left me a plate of breakfast. I had had no idea she had cooked. I sat the bagel to the side and heated up my food, and then I sat in the family room and devoured the plate as if I hadn’t eaten the first steak bagel.
I put my plate in the sink, went back to the sofa in the family room, and was suddenly overcome by severe cramps in my stomach again. Rushing to the first-floor bathroom, I vomited, hoping it would relieve the tight spasms in my abdomen, but it didn’t give me any relief. After I put down the lid and rinsed my mouth, I had to hit the toilet again. This time I had to sit, as the violent stomach cramping was unbelievably painful. After twenty minutes on the can, I felt a little relief, but not enough to say I felt fine.
Remembering the meds I had from my last visit to the doctor, I took them and went to bed. I slept until my wife woke me, and that was five hours later.
Chapter Eighteen
Will
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the emergency room, baby? I mean, you don’t look good.”
“Lynn, I’ll be fine, babe. Just whip me up some of that chicken soup you made the last time, and I will be fine. I think I need to lay off the greasy foods, babe, and the pork. I’m not as young as I used to be.” I didn’t want to argue, I just wanted to lay there in bed until I felt better and her soup and tea usually made me better.
“I know, bae, but I hate seeing you this way. You don’t look fine to me, Will, and I would feel better if we just went to urgent care.”
“Lynn, you know how I feel about doctors, and all they are going to give me is some more meds. Your soup is the only thing I need to get over this.”
“Okay, baby. You stay put, and I’ll be back up after I get it going. I’m going to shower really fast first. Do you need anything right now?”
“Naw, baby. Go and shower. I know you’ll take care of me.”
“Of course.” She leaned in and kissed me.
“Lynn, I love you,” I said. I had no idea what was going on, and I was afraid to find out. I just didn’t want to be sick on my new bride. She deserved a life full of happiness, and if I was getting ill or if something was wrong, I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to worry Lynn or burden her with taking care of me.
She smiled brightly at me. Her face was just as beautiful as a sunset, and it always warmed my insides. “I love you too, Will, with all my being,” she said softly. “Now rest, baby, while I shower, and I will make you some homemade soup.”
“Thank you.”
She walked away, and I sobbed. Yes, I was a crying grown-ass man. I had been having too many stomach episodes lately, and my biggest fear was cancer. I had tried to ignore the gut-clenching episodes, and most of them I hadn’t even shared with Lynn. I pretended to be fine, and I was terrified about finding out what was really wrong with me. Finding out would be owning up to it, and I was not ready.
* * *
Lynn
I stood under our rain shower and cried. I hadn’t planned on getting my hair wet, but my husband being ill again scared the shit out of me, and I just couldn’t focus on keeping my hair dry. I had no idea what was going on with him, and Will was so damn stubborn, he refused to go to the doctor. I was afraid it was something serious, and I didn’t want to lose him. I wanted him to be helped, treated, and to live a long life with me. Why was he so hardheaded?
I had seen the pain in his eyes on occasion, and he pretended he was well, but I knew he wasn’t. There had been nights when I cooked up a huge meal, one that I knew he’d beat me to the table to eat, but he’d showered and gone to sleep without dinner.
“Lord, please heal him. Whatever is going on with my husband, please fix it, Lord. Please open up his mind to medicine, so a doctor can help us with whatever he has going on with him, Lord. Please don’t take him,” I cried and prayed.
I got out of the shower, dried my skin, wrapped a towel around me, put leave-in conditioner in my hair, and moisturized my skin. After throwing on one of Will’s oversize Chicago Bears T-shirts, I checked in on him before going downstairs to make him some soup. I pulled a chicken breast from the freezer, tossed it into a pot, added water, put the pot on the stove, and turned on the fire. I added a pinch of salt and chicken broth to another pot. When it came to a boil, I turned down the fire. Then I diced some veggies, drained the thawed chicken and diced it. After twenty minutes or so, I added more broth and then my veggies and covered the pot with a lid. The aroma was pleasant. While the soup was cooking, I went up to check on Will.
He looked like a different man. His hair needed a cut. He normally did that on a Saturday, but he was stuck in bed. And he was a little pale. He didn’t look like my Will. I blinked back the tears as I sat on the edge of the bed. “Lord, God, please,” I prayed quietly, touching his face gently.
About twenty minutes later I got up and went down and stirred the soup. I tasted it to make sure the seasoning was perfect and the meat and the veggies were tender. They were, so I then added the noodles. The noodles were thin, so they didn’t need to cook long. After replacing the lid on the pot, I went for a glass and the wine cooler.
All I could think about was my husband’s health. I didn’t want him to be bedridden or sick or hurt or in discomfort. I drank two glasses before preparing a serving tray for Will. I poured him some green tea, grabbed some crackers and put them on a saucer, and then filled my husband’s favorite bowl with the homemade soup. I was not in the mood to eat, but the aroma of the soup was so fabulous, I put a little in a bowl to cool for myself. Then loaded everything on the serving tray and went up to feed him. Hating to wake him, I set the tray on the dresser and kissed him.
“Baby, I got your soup. You wanna sit up for me?”
He opened his lids. “It’s ready?”
“Yes. I am going to feed it to you.”
“Aw, bae, I can do it. I’m not disabled,” he protested, sitting up.
“I know, but I want to take care of you, baby, so please, this will go a lot smoother if you don’t argue.”
“Okay,” he said.
I smiled at him. “Do you know how much I love you?” I said. My eyes watered, and I didn’t want to go there. I thought the wine had spurred my emotions.
“Just as much as I love you,” he answered.
“Will, I know you don’t do doctors, but, baby, I’m terrified. I don’t want this to be bigger than what we are guessing it is. I want to know why, all of a sudden, my stallion is sick, so for me, can you please see the doctor? If it’s nothing, it’s nothing, but if it’s something, Will, we need to know.”
His eyes shifted to the covers. He was silent.
Then I couldn’t help it. A tear fell and then another and then another. “Will,” I whispered.
“I’ll go,” he said, giving in. “For you to have peace of mind, baby, I’ll go.”
I leaned in and kissed him and then rested my head on his chest. He held me. I loved being in his arms. “I can’t lose you, Will.”
“I know, baby, but please don’t worry. Please. I didn’t want to go, because if it is something, our lives are going to convert to this ‘Will is sick’ life, and I don’t want that.”
“I know, my love, but whatever is going on could be prevented, so please.”
He kissed my head. “Baby, I will.”
With that, I lifted my head and kissed my husband, and then I got up and got his tray. I fed him, and within an hour or so, he was back t
o his normal self.
“It was your soup, baby. I told you I was fine,” he said.
“Well, my soup is just plain ole home cooking, not a remedy. I still want you to see someone.”
“Baby, I’m fine.”
“Will.”
“Okay, okay. If I have another episode, I promise.”
I didn’t agree with waiting for another episode, but I said okay. My husband then danced with me in our family room to show me how much better he was, and then we dressed and went out to dinner and took in a late movie.
That night he was deep inside of me, and he was getting the job done. My core was doing somersaults as he stroked me to multiple orgasms. I was in bliss, and we both decided to take a couple of days off. Not returning to work until Wednesday, we finished out the week without a hiccup or an episode, and I felt that God had answered my prayers, because my husband was just fine.
Since the bakery had been doing so well since the renovations, I decided to scale back my hours and stay home more and care for my man. He hadn’t had an episode for a week and a couple of days and I thought it was because I able to make breakfast for us, take him lunch, and have his dinner ready for him every night I was home. I still employed a housekeeper for deep cleaning and laundry, chores that I simply hated doing, and she came over once a week.
Cooking being my favorite task, I wondered why I was too lazy to get out of bed that morning to fix my husband’s breakfast.
“Lynn, baby, you’re still in bed.”
My head popped up. “Huh? What?”
“You said you were going down to make breakfast when I went to shower, yet I’m dressed, and there are no bacon, eggs, and toast.”
“I’m so sorry, Will. I mean, I sat up, but I wanted five more minutes in bed, and I must have dozed off.”
“It’s okay. I’m meeting with Yvonne this morning to finalize this party mess, and I’m sure she’ll have some breakfast with her. She always does.”
“Okay, and I’m sorry, baby. I am just super tired.”
“Go back to bed.” He kissed my forehead. “Get some rest, and I’ll see you later.” He smiled.
As soon as he was on the other side of the door, I was fast asleep again.
Chapter Nineteen
Lynn
I was awakened by the phone. Not wanting to answer, I let it ring, and then five seconds later it rang out again. I opened one eye and saw that it was a little after 11:00 a.m. I reached for my phone, looked at the screen, and saw it was an unrecognizable number, but I went ahead and answered.
Groggy, and not trying to hide my irritation over being awaken out of my sleep, I said, “Hello.”
“Hello. I’m trying to reach Mrs. Daniels.”
I let out an annoyed breath. “This is she.”
“Mrs. Daniels, this is Dr. Patterson I’m calling from the University of Chicago Medical Center.”
I hopped up, and my heart raced. “Yes, yes! How can I help you?”
“Your husband came into the hospital a little while ago with violent stomach pains and cramping. Since he said this is not his first episode, we are going to run a few tests, but I suggest you come down here.”
“Sure, sure. I’m on my way.”
I dashed into the shower and brushed my teeth. I had no time to fuss with my hair, so I grabbed one of Will’s caps. Then I rushed over to the hospital. When I got there, Will was resting in his room. They had already admitted him. I didn’t want to wake him, so I went to find his doctor. I caught up with him at the nurses’ station, and we discussed Will’s condition.
“So, Dr. Patterson, did you figure out what’s wrong with him? I mean, these stomach pains and episodes have started to come more frequently,” I said.
“Well, it could be a number of things. We are doing the standard tests, but I wanted to know if you wanted to send his samples over to our toxicology lab.”
“Why? What does that mean? Why would I have to do that?”
“It’s just a precaution. Just in case.”
“In case what, Doctor? What are you suggesting?”
“Are you and your husband having any marital problems?”
“No. Not that that is any of your business.”
“I didn’t mean to offend, Mrs. Daniels. I just want to rule out any possibilities.”
“Well, we’re fine, and that won’t be necessary. You can speak to Will yourself when he’s awake.”
“I have spoken to him and asked about submitting his samples, and he declined.”
“Well, there it is.”
He nodded. “Very well. I will be in to discuss his results as soon as I have them.”
“You do that,” I said and rolled my eyes.
The nerve of him to even suggest or imply that I did something to my husband, I thought. The notion was absurd. I went back in to check on Will. His eyes were slits, but they were open.
“Baby, how are you feeling?” I caressed his face.
“Better. What did the doctor say? You know I hate hospitals, and I’m ready to go home and rest in my own bed.”
“I know, baby, but something is going on, and we have to find out what. I mean, you were healthy as a horse up until a couple of months ago, and the episodes are starting to happen more frequently.”
“I know. It could be a number of things, Lynn. I work construction, and we go into houses that have mold, asbestos, and all kinds of things. Plus, we work with so many chemicals.”
“I know, baby, and I’m worried.”
“Hey.” He smiled at me. “Don’t worry, pretty lady. I’m not checking out just yet. The doctors will figure it out.”
“I know,” I said with a faint smile. I believed Will and knew he was right, but I was terrified. I sat with my husband a couple more hours, and then finally the doctor came in.
“Well, there was nothing that we could see, but I do recommend a toxicology test, just to rule out everything,” Dr. Patterson said.
“We’re good on that, Doctor. I told you I have no enemies, and my wife would never do anything to hurt me,” Will said.
The look on Dr. Patterson’s face showed he was surprised that Will would repeat what he had suggested, which was that I’d tried to hurt him.
“Now, can I and my beautiful wife get out of here?” Will asked.
“Yes, Mr. Daniels. They are processing your paperwork as we speak. Here is a prescription for an antacid. Take Imodium if the diarrhea returns. Take care of yourself, and if you need me for anything, you know you can call me,” Dr. Patterson said with a kind smile.
I knew he meant no harm. He was just looking out for his patient.
“Will do, Doc.”
After Will dressed and was released, we headed home. He went upstairs, while I made him some soup and a light salad and poured some tea and added some lemon.
After he ate and had a nap, he came down to join me. I was on my hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor. Yes, I was domesticated, but I cleaned deeper when I was stressed, afraid, or worried.
“Baby,” I heard him say. “What are you doing?”
“Cleaning the floor.”
“I can see that, but why are you on your hands and knees? We have, like, a steam mop and a Swiffer and all that jazz.”
“I know, but I’m . . . I’m . . .” I said, trailing off. I tossed the rag into the bucket.
“What is it?”
“I’m worried about you, Will. Maybe we should do that toxicology test. Maybe something at work is making you sick, and we need to figure out what it is.”
“Come here.” He reached out his hands and help me up from the floor. “I’ve been doing this all my adult life, Lynn, so don’t worry.”
My eyes welled up with tears. “I can’t just not worry. You’re the love of my life and the best thing to have happened to me, and if I were to lose—”
He cut me off. “Shhh! Baby, don’t worry. I’m fine, and if I have another episode, I promise I will do it.”
“You promise?”
“Yes, baby, I promise,” he said and kissed me deeply.
I loved his kisses and his touch. There was a fire constantly burning deep down inside of me for Will, and I was ready for him to take my body again.
We undressed right there in the kitchen. After we were both naked, he hoisted me up onto our kitchen island. My husband was so strong and resilient that he effortlessly lifted my full-figured frame up onto the cool surface. During our lovemaking sessions, he’d flip and toss me as if I were a size three, and every time it was over, I’d be breathless. He’d explore every inch of me, and I loved making love to him. He always took his time to make sure I was pleasured, and I hadn’t ever been with any lover like him.
He made me feel sexy, even though my rolls were exposed, my stretch marks were visible, and everything jiggled when he pumped me to ecstasy. I’d sometimes stare at his eight-pack abs, his defined arms and shoulders, and his chiseled chest and wonder how I got so lucky to have someone so sexy, so fine, and so fit when I was plus size. That he looked beyond my physical makeup and saw me for the woman who I was and still labeled me as sexy made him all the more special to me.
Now, on the kitchen island, I purred at the touch of his fingertips caressing my bulb. It has so swollen for him. Climaxing for me was always so smooth with Will, because he had learned how to please me and what made me feel good early on in our relationship. Each time felt better than the last.
“Yes, baby, I like that,” I moaned.
He wrapped his strong arms around my thighs and pulled my body closer to his mouth, and before long my bottom half was off the island, meeting his mouth, and I was shaking from the tingling in my core. I had cum, and I felt my walls contract. Though I was out of breath, I was ready for even more. I wanted him. I wanted to make his dick cum just as he had made me.
“Let me taste you, baby. Let me make you cum,” I moaned and reached out my hands for him. He pulled me up and helped me off the island. He took me by my hand, and I followed him into our family room. He grabbed the throw on the back of the sofa and then laid it on the cushions before he sat. He grabbed his rod and began to stroke it, and I watched it grow larger in his fist, and my mouth watered.