Sweet Sunshine

by Jessica Prince

  I HAD NO clue how long I was out. I didn’t recall anything after Derrick lifted me off the toilet seat and carried me through my apartment. I opened my eyes to the sound of voices and had to blink some of the fog away. The bed I was in was huge, the mattress plush and felt like a cloud. Definitely not my own. Not that my mattress was anything to sneeze at, but it didn’t hug my body, that was for damn sure.

  “You sure there’s nothing else you can do for her?” Derrick’s voice. Then I remembered Derrick’s ultimatum, either go home with him so he could take care of me, or go to the hospital.

  “She’s gonna be just fine, son.” I finally got my bearings enough to notice Derrick and Dr. White standing a few feet away from me. I’d known Dr. White my whole life. He was the town doctor and, in a town as small as Pembrooke, made house calls on a regular basis. His name was fitting, considering the shock of white hair on his head and the full-on Santa beard he sported. He had a gentle, friendly demeanor and everyone in town loved him, even the small kids who were afraid of needles but forced to go in for their annual vaccinations. You couldn’t look at the man who was a cross between St. Nick and Colonel Sanders and not love him.

  “Give her the Tamiflu when she wakes up, Tylenol for the fever, and keep her hydrated. She’ll be back to her normal self in no time.”

  I blinked my eyes as Derrick’s chest rose and fell with a large sigh, almost as if he was relieved to hear what Dr. White was saying. Then, “Thank Christ for that. Woman’s stubborn as hell when she’s sick. I lost count of how many times I wanted to wring her neck.”

  Now I know I heard that right. “Uh, laying right here, you know,” I grumbled. “I can hear you.”

  Dr. White laughed. “You act like he’s lying. Known you all your life, Chloe. A ray of sunshine on most days, but when you’re sick, you’re a downright pain in the ass, girl. Horrible patient.”

  “Thanks,” I deadpanned, or at least tried my best, seeing as I still felt like crap and had trouble concentrating on much else. I pushed myself up to sitting and rested my back against the headboard.

  “Try not to give Deputy Anderson too hard of a time, Chloe,” the doctor told me, earning himself a scowl. “I know you’re in a hurry to get better, so rest and meds. Don’t overdo it, or I’ll stick you in the hospital just for fun.”

  He wasn’t joking, either. Sure, Dr. White was sweet, but if a patient didn’t take their wellbeing seriously, they got to see a whole new side of the old man. A side I wasn’t too keen to see, so I gave him a muttered, “Yes, sir.”

  “Tamiflu twice a day for five days, with food. You can quit the Tylenol as soon as your fever breaks and stays down. Water and sleep. I’ll be checking on your progress with Deputy Anderson since I know you well enough not to trust you as far as I can throw you.”

  “I can feel the love from here,” I frowned. “Stop, it’s too much. You’ll make me cry.”

  Dr. White laughed again and turned for the door, Derrick following behind. “I see what you’re saying about being a horrible patient,” he said in a not-so-quiet voice.

  “Can still here you!”

  “Didn’t say it quietly, sunshine,” he shot over his shoulder as he walked the doctor out. Once alone, I let my eyes scan my surroundings. I’d never been to Derrick’s house before, and what I saw definitely wasn’t what I would imagine for a single guy living alone, child or not. The walls were painted the softest dove gray to contrast the dark navy bedding on the king-sized bed. The bedframe, dresser, and nightstands were all made of a dark, rich cherry wood, almost the same color as the wood flooring. And he had a massive cream-colored area rug — an area rug, for crying out loud — that stretched from under the bed, all the way across the room, stopping just feet from the stone hearth of the fire place.

  The room was impeccably decorated, and I thought to myself, if this was what the guest room looked like, I couldn’t imagine just how amazing the master bedroom was. But none of those details — stone fireplace included — were the most stunning feature. That went to the view beyond the glass French doors on the far left wall, beyond the cozy little deck built off what looked to be the side of the house. Nothing but forest and mountains as far as you could see.

  It was absolutely breathtaking.

  Derrick’s view was what people all over the country traveled to our tiny mountain town to see. You couldn’t look at a view like that, all lush and green, and not be moved by it. It was tranquil, peaceful, nature at its most beautiful, and I instantly fell in love with it.

  “I brought you some toast, sunshine” Derrick said, pulling me from the amazing sight beyond the French doors. “Doc said you had to take the meds with food, so—”

  “Derrick… the view,” I sighed dreamily.

  “Yeah,” he smiled, his eyes following mine out the doors. “No such thing as a bad morning when you wake up every day to that.”

  Wait… “This is your room?”

  The mattress dipped under his weight as he sat on the bed, his back to the fireplace so he was facing me. “Yep,” he answered, sitting the plate of toast on my lap and reaching up to press his palm to my forehead. He held it there for longer than necessary to gauge a person’s temp before those rough fingertips skated down, down, down, past my temple all the way to my collar bone. It was the type of touch you expected to feel from someone who wasn’t simply a friend. “Only two other rooms in this place. One’s Eliza’s, and the other’s an office, slash gym, slash storage room. Didn’t think you’d appreciate sleeping on the futon in there.”

  “But… but…” I sputtered. “Where are you sleeping?”

  “On the couch.”

  “Derrick!” I cried. “You can’t sleep on the couch. Don’t know if it’s lost on you, but you’re not exactly a small guy. I’m tiny! Like, really tiny. I’ll take the couch and you take your huge bed back.”

  Derrick’s laughter shook the bed in a way I had no doubt I’d have thoroughly enjoyed had I not felt like I’d been run over by an eighteen wheeler. “To put your mind at ease, no, it’s not lost on me that I’m not a small guy. Which is why I bought myself a massive sectional I knew I’d be comfortable sleeping on, seeing as I have a tendency to pass out on the couch watching TV more often than not.”

  Okay, so that was a valid argument. But still!

  “But still,” I continued to argue, “I don’t feel right taking your bed.”

  “Did I or did I not tell you to relax and let me take care of you?” he asked in a tone that brooked no argument, while at the same time, something I couldn’t quite read flashed in his hazel eyes. “Seeing you lying on your bathroom floor is something I never want to have to witness again.” The way he said that caused chills to snake along my spine.

  “So you’re staying here, you’re taking the bed, you’re eating the damned toast so you can take your pills, and you’re done arguing, got it?”

  “Got it,” I replied instantly. My momma didn’t raise a door mat, but she taught me one very important lesson growing up. Pick your battles. And from the determination painted across Derrick’s face as he all but growled his words, this wasn’t a battle I needed to win. So I picked up the toast and began to chew slowly, hoping my stomach would cooperate. All the while trying not to analyze the way that Derrick was staring at me, almost like he didn’t recognize me.

  Shit, I needed that Tamiflu to kick in fast so I could get back to my regularly-scheduled programming. The longer I stayed in Derrick’s house, surrounded by all things him, the harder it was going to be to go back to being his friend.

  Chloe

  CHILLS THAT WRACKED my body woke me from a fitful sleep. My eyes opened to the dark room, only lit by the moonlight pouring in through the glass doors. The view I’d appreciated so much just hours ago was the furthest thing from my mind as the fever I thought I’d broken earlier came back with a vengeance.

  With a groan, I pushed up and shuffled across the bed in an attempt to reach the bottle of Tylenol on the nightstand. My hand lande
d on the cold wood at the same time my head fell back down to the pillow. It felt like my own body was fighting against me, too weak to do something as simple as hold my own damned head up.

  I smacked my palm against the top of the nightstand as I blindly searched for the pill bottle, letting out another pained groan as my fingertips hit the plastic, sending it skittering to the ground.

  “Damn it,” I cursed, trying to will my limbs to actually cooperate. I really was a shit patient. I had already managed to convince myself I was knocking on death’s door, throwing myself a pathetic pity party as I did a mental calculation of how I’d divvy up all my belongings between my loved ones. I’d just decided to hell with it when the bedroom door came swinging open.

  “Sunshine?” Derrick’s deep, sleep-gruff voice broke through the silence of the room. “You okay?” I let out another groan and felt the bed dip under his weight seconds before his hand rested on my forehead. “Shit, you’re burning up.”

  He fumbled around near the nightstand for a moment before soft yellow light filled the space. I was hit right then by the sight of a chiseled, shirtless Derrick, wearing nothing but a loose fitting pair of sleep pants that sat low on his waist. The sight would have overwhelmed all of my senses had I not been delirious with fever. From the rattling sound, he’d located the Tylenol bottle on the floor and popped it open. He shook two capsules out, snagged the glass of water and leaned over me. “Open up. You need to take this to break the fever.”

  I didn’t bother arguing. My lips parted far enough for him to dump the meds into my mouth, and, with his now-free hand, he cupped the back of my neck and lifted me up high enough to bring the water glass to my lips. I sucked it back and let out a sigh as he lowered me back to the pillow.

  “When I die,” I started on a whine, “my recipe book for all my pastries is in a box on my closet shelf.”

  “Sweetheart, you aren’t dying.” I could hear the smile in his voice, but I’d already squeezed my eyes closed.

  “Don’t argue. This is important,” I said as my body trembled against the chills of my fever.

  “All right,” he said, his voice telling me he was simply humoring me, despite me being completely irrational. It was amazing how, even on my deathbed, I was able to read all of that from just those two words.

  “When I die,” I repeated for dramatic effect — like I said, I was a horrible patient, so sue me, “whatever you do, don’t let Harlow get ahold of those recipes. She’s a terrible cook. It would be sacrilegious.”

  The mattress shook with his laughter. “I’ve heard stories.”

  “Unless you’ve been forced to live through it, you can’t possibly understand.”

  “Ethan and Noah told me all about Thanksgiving. I have a good idea,” he muttered, bringing up a night that still gave me nightmares. How one person could not only screw up, but desecrate, food in such a way, was beyond me.

  “I still wake up screaming sometimes,” I whispered, shivering at the memory.

  The light in the room was extinguished and, just as I thought Derrick was going to stand to leave, he surprised me by sliding down the bed, his body warm against mine as he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me into him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You’re shaking,” was all he said in response as he whipped the covers over us.

  “So you’re… cuddling me?” I asked incredulously.

  “I’m keeping you warm.” His soft words whispered across the skin of my neck, eliciting another tremble for a totally different reason. Judging by the way Derrick’s arm tightened around me, he felt it and thought it was another fever chill. If only he knew.

  “You don’t have to,” I attempted lamely, even though his body pressed flush against my back helped to not only ward off the worst of the chills, but also relaxed me. “You could get sick, too.”

  “Hush, Chloe,” His chest rumbled against my back, and as I shifted just slightly, feeling his skin against my arm, I was reminded that he was barely dressed, and that, only moments ago, I’d gotten an eyeful of all the wonder that was his body. And I didn’t even feel good enough to appreciate it.

  “Derrick?” I asked, starting to feel sleep pull me under. I could say with all honesty that, what came out of my mouth next was strictly due to the fever, but I’d only be telling the partial truth.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  I shivered again, loving the way he called me that. It was the second time I’d heard that word fall from his lips in regards to me, and I felt it all the way down to my bones.

  “When I’m better and can fully appreciate it, will you walk around without a shirt on?”

  His laughter shook both of our bodies. “Whatever will help you get better faster, sunshine.” And just as sleep tugged me under, blacking out everything around me, I could have sworn I felt something like lips press against the back of my neck.

  “AND THEN SARAH was like, ‘You can’t come to my birthday party ’cause you’re friends with Lilly Mathewson!’ And I was all, ‘well, I don’t want to come to your stupid party anyway. And Lilly’s way cooler than you!’”

  I stifled my smile as Eliza rattled on at an alarming speed, her gaze focused down on my toes that she was working diligently to paint a bright, sparkly pink that she just knew would help to make me feel better as she told me all the latest elementary school drama.

  I’d been sequestered to Derrick’s bedroom for the past thirty hours, and even though I was starting to feel more like myself, the damned man gave me a look that promised punishment, then pointed in the direction of the bed every time he caught me out of it. After waking up wrapped in his arms earlier that morning, I’d been doing everything possible to convince him to let me go home. Unfortunately, nothing worked.

  Last night and this morning proved to be too much for my normal frame of mind. Having him hold me — basically snuggling with me all night long — made the friendship boundary we’d put in place all the more blurry, and my poor, confused heart skip several uncomfortable beats.

  Staying there wasn’t healthy for my sanity.

  Luckily I’d had Eliza to keep me company for the past few hours, helping to keep my mind off the horde of butterflies taking up residence in my stomach. We’d watched Disney movies, I’d let her brush my hair, and now I was getting my own personal pedicure from the world’s most adorable nine-year-old.

  “So Lilly’s your best friend then?” I asked. “Is she nice?”

  “Yeah, she’s super nice,” Eliza answered sincerely, just before her shoulders slumped. “But Mom says I have to be friends with Sarah too.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked, unhappy with the way the light seemed to fizzle out of Eliza so quickly.

  “Because,” she shrugged, “she said Sarah’s mom and dad got money and Sarah’s one of the popular girls in my class, so if I wanna be popular too, I gotta stay friends with her.” Her hazel eyes, identical to her father’s, came up and met mine, her gaze sad as she said, “And she won’t let Lilly come to our house for sleepovers ‘cause she said I don’t need to hang out with a kid whose dad is the school janitor. I can only be friends with Lilly at school, which sucks, ’cause she’s my best friend.”

  I really hated that woman. But it wasn’t like I could show that in front of a little girl. I worked to school my features even though my heart was breaking at the sight of her sadness. It might not have been my place to offer up my advice, but I couldn’t just sit there while her own mother filled her head with things that could turn her from the bright, caring girl she was into something tarnished and ugly.

  “Honey,” I said in a soft voice, “I’m going to tell you something my mom told me when I was little. We’re all born with empty places inside of us that are meant to be filled up by people who make us happy and who make us feel good about ourselves. Those places are special, because if you pick the right person to fill it, they help you to be whole. If Lilly makes you happy and you feel whole around her, then you hold on to that as ti
ght as you can because those are the types of relationships that last forever.”

  “Is that what Ms. Harlow did for you? Fill up one of your empty places?”

  “Absolutely,” I smiled widely. “And we’ll still be friends until we’re old and gray and lose all our teeth.”

  Her happy giggle warmed something in my chest that had gone cold at the sight of her sorrow. “Then you’ll look like Granddad when he doesn’t have his teeth in!”

  “Your granddad doesn’t put his teeth in?” I asked, finding myself laughing as well.

  “He only pops them out for special occasions,” Derrick’s rumbling voice announced, and my and Eliza’s gazes shot to where he was standing, one shoulder propped against the door frame. “Isn’t that right, baby girl?” He winked at his daughter and my belly quivered.

  “Yep. Like Christmas and my birthday.” She giggled again before turning back to me. “Granddad is Daddy’s father. He lives on a ranch in Montana with goats! We go there every year for Christmas and Spring Break ’cause that’s when my birthday is.”

  “That sounds like fun, sweetheart. I’ve always wanted to visit a ranch.”

  “You should come with us next time!” she clapped gleefully. “Can she Daddy? Can she?” She spun back around to face me before allowing Derrick a chance to answer. “You’d love it so much. It’s so pretty there! You have to come!”

  “Oh, uh…” I shot a look at Derrick to see one corner of his mouth hitched up in a smirk.

  “Pleeeeeeeeease,” she begged.

  “How about we discuss it when it’s closer to our next trip?” Derrick finally said, offering up a solution that fortunately placated and excited Eliza, at least for the time being.

  “Okay!” she agreed.

  “Time to go pack, baby girl. Your mom will be here soon.”

  She stood on her knees and moved toward me, wrapping me in a hug and muttering, “Bye Miss Chloe. Hope you feel better.”