by Nikki Lane
“Why not?”
“Because…” The list was too long to condense in one sentence. I wanted him to take me home and more. I didn’t want to worry about his drinking. Or if he was going to turn into Dr. Hyde in the middle of the night. “Because I came here with Shelby, and it would be wrong not to leave with her. And I’m having a good time.”
“You are?” he said with an incredulous look.
A few girls stumbled into the bathroom in mid conversation. They gave Kieran and me funny looks but went about their business.
“Sure, I am,” I replied. “I was in the middle of a very stimulating conversation.”
“About pickles?”
We waited for the girls to finish washing their hands before continuing. Kieran leaned against the wall near the hand dryers. I noticed one of the girls flash him a flirty smile. He didn’t return it.
“Pickles can be interesting,” I said.
Then again, the thought of eating one at that moment made me want to hurl.
“Let me take you home, Rose. Please. We can even talk pickles on the way.”
I stifled a smile. His pleading tone sent a shudder of tingles throughout my entire body. Did he notice? And, dammit, why did he still have this effect on me?
“I need another drink.” I stormed out of the bathroom door and headed straight for the bar.
Chapter 25
When I crawled out of bed that morning, half blinded by the morning sunshine, I begrudgingly dressed for work. I felt like shit. My nose was clogged. My muscles ached. My head throbbed. And it wasn’t just any kind of headache. No, this was much worse. Like my skull was being pounded with a jackhammer. I took something for the pain and headed to work, thankful it was a half-day at school.
When I got back home, I was certain death was imminent. My face was hot, and I barely had the energy to climb out of my car to get inside the house. I was sure I had a fever, my first one in probably ten years.
I ripped open the over-the-counter flu medicine I’d bought and guzzled a capful of it down. A few moments passed and I felt drunker than I had in my entire life. My eyes couldn’t stay open. I stumbled to the bedroom, pulling off my work clothes, and climbed into bed.
I was in and out of it for the next few hours. I vaguely recalled getting up to use the bathroom a few times. I thought I heard someone in the kitchen, but the medicine had me so doped up that I couldn’t summon the strength to move. I closed my still-heavy eyes and fell back asleep.
When I opened them again, I heard the television on in the living room. I sat up, hoping it was Shelby again and not really a robber this time. But what robber hung around to catch up on their reality TV?
“Shelby?” I croaked. My throat was on fire, and I could barely get the words out.
A few seconds later and Kieran was standing in my bedroom. I squinted my eyes, sure I was hallucinating or still dreaming.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
“Your front door was wide open.”
“What?”
“I came in to check on you, and you were asleep.”
All the blinds in the room were drawn closed. He took a few steps toward me.
“Don’t get too close,” I said. “I’m probably communicable.”
“I don’t care.” He sat down on the bed and felt my forehead. “You’re burning up.”
“I feel like I’m dying.”
“You look like shit.”
“Thanks. What time is it?”
“It’s…” He looked at the clock on the nightstand. “Almost five thirty.”
I started to get up.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I have a shift at work.”
“Are you crazy?” he said, guiding me back down on the bed. “Communicable disease and food service don’t go well together. You’re staying in bed.” I didn’t fight him. “I’m calling you out of work.”
Kieran swiped my phone from the nightstand. He called my boss, his voice sounding like all the grown-ups in Charlie Brown. I could tell the person on the other end was not pleased by the tone of the conversation. He ended the call, mumbling curses, and held the phone to his ear again.
“Who are you calling now?” I squeaked from under the covers. I reached out a hand to pour another capful of the dark blue sleepy juice and slung it back.
Kieran looked down at me like I was on my deathbed. I could feel the second dose of medicine start to kick in. He paced up and down my room, his jumbled voice floating into the air.
“When did you start feeling like this?” he said to me, still on the phone.
Why was he shouting? I cowered back deeper into the pillow, my head pulsing.
“I felt kind of weird this morning,” I croaked. “It just got worse as the day went on.”
He repeated my answer into the phone.
“Have you eaten anything?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think I can stomach anything right now.”
“Have you drunk anything?”
Another head shake.
Two more minutes of conversation and he hung up the phone.
“I’ll be right back.”
“What are you doing?”
“To the store. You need something in your system.”
“Kieran…”
But he was already out the door.
Kieran was back in under a half hour. I heard clanging of pots and pans from the kitchen. I zoned in and out of consciousness, only feeling relief from my symptoms while I slept.
A while later and someone was shaking me awake.
“Here,” Kieran said. “Drink some of this.” He handed me a cold glass of light blue liquid.
I took a sip and cringed. “What is this? Poison?”
“Yes, poison. Drink it up.”
I put the cup back to my lips and drank.
“We have to keep you as hydrated as possible.”
I flopped back into the bed when Kieran was satisfied with the amount of liquid I drank.
He shut the light, and I didn’t hear from him the rest of the night.
* * * *
My eyes fluttered open. The blinds were still drawn closed. I couldn’t tell if it was day or night. My stomach wrenched. I felt queasy. My skin was slick with sweat but flushed with goosebumps. I threw off the covers to make a mad dash to the bathroom and tripped over something on the floor. I braced against the wall and grappled with the door handle, trying to get my bearings back from nearly falling over. The house was dark, save for a few flashing lights in the living room. I stumbled into the bathroom and dropped to my knees on the cold tile floor. I heaved over the toilet, throwing up the little liquid I had in my stomach and not much more.
I felt the hair being brushed behind me. Someone was holding it back for me. When I was done, I wanted to fall asleep right there on the floor. But that someone wouldn’t let me. I heard some mumbling and then felt the warm water hit my body. It felt good on my aching muscles. But not as good as the gentle rock of being carried. I was in my bed again. But I didn’t want to be there alone. I liked the feeling of being carried. Of not having to stand up on my own. Of not being afraid no one would be there to catch me if I fell. And so, I held on to whatever was giving me that feeling. I gripped it tight and pleaded for it to stay. And it did. And I fell back asleep, never letting go.
* * * *
I felt the shift of weight in the bed. I struggled to open my eyes in the sunlight. Kieran stood across the bed from me, stretching. My eyes followed the strong line in his back as he raised his arms over his head. He turned and our eyes met.
“Hey,” he said to me in a gentle voice.
“Hi.” The blanket, covering half of my face, muffled my voice.
“How are you feeling?”
“A little better.”
“Think you can put something in your stomach?” He held his hand to my forehead. “Feels like your fever finally broke.”
I nodded, and he d
isappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later and he was back with two big steaming bowls. I propped myself up in the bed.
“Here,” he said, handing me one.
“You bought chicken soup?”
“No, I bought stuff to make chicken soup.”
“You cooked?”
“Yep. And I made a shitload of it, so you’ll have plenty of leftovers.” He sat down next to me on the edge of the bed.
I inhaled over the bowl, feeling the steam warm my nose. “This is really good,” I said after taking a bite. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied, sitting back down. “Although I can’t take all the credit. It’s my mom’s recipe. It was usually the only thing I could stomach when I wasn’t feeling well.”
“What day is it?”
“Sunday.”
“I feel like I fell into a time warp. Have you been here all weekend?”
“Since Friday.”
I held the empty bowl in my hand. “Thank you, Kieran. Really.”
“It’s nothing,” he replied. “I’m just glad you’re still alive.”
I didn’t realize it before but the blanket had fallen down when I sat up in bed. I was wearing an old college t-shirt and a pair of shorts. And I was pretty sure I was going commando.
Kieran must have registered the confused look on my face. “You threw up everywhere during the night. I helped you get cleaned up. I grabbed the first thing I could find in your dresser.”
My cheeks burned red, but not for the same reason they were the last two days. “Oh my God. I’m never taking that medicine again. I was completely out of it.”
“It didn’t help that you were feverish and also probably really dehydrated.”
“Well, I’m feeling a lot better.”
“I still don’t think you should do too much today.”
“Is that your official medical opinion, Doctor?” I said with a small smile.
“Yes, it is.” He got up from the bed and grabbed my empty bowl. “Don’t you dare think of moving from that spot.”
I slouched back in the bed, more than willing to follow the doctor’s orders.
Kieran didn’t leave my side all day Sunday. He did a few loads of my laundry, changed the sheets on my bed, and disinfected the bathroom. It killed me to sit there and watch, but he insisted that I stayed put. My eyes followed him as he moved from room to room. I held my tongue to refrain from asking too many questions and just tried to revel in the comfort of someone else taking care of things for a change. We had more chicken soup that night as we sat on the couch, watching television, my legs propped on his lap.
“I saw the guys working on your lawn the other day,” he said, still staring at the TV.
I tried to hold back a smile. “It was feeling neglected and needed some love.”
He turned to look at me. “They didn’t even do a good job.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Yes. I thought I told you I’m very protective.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you cared anymore.”
“Of course I care. I never stopped caring.”
I turned my focus back on the television. “I thought it was better. You know…I got a new landscaper. You’ve got more time to work on another woman’s lawn.”
“What?” he said. “Are we still talking about landscaping?”
“I saw you at the bar that night.”
“I have no interest in other women’s lawns,” he replied with a more serious tone. “Unless we’re talking about Mrs. Johnson across the street. She’s got that fine thick Kentucky blue grass. I’d mow that lawn all day.” He ate another spoonful of soup.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re sick.”
Kieran set the bowl on the coffee table. “I didn’t even want to go out that night.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because Scott said Shelby would be there.”
“Oh.”
“And I knew that if Shelby would be there, then so would you.”
He didn’t look at me when he said it. He just stared at the television while I curled deeper into the couch, pretending like the sentence had no effect on me.
“Then I guess you can start seeing my lawn again.”
Chapter 26
That following week I planned to make it up to him. I spent a few days during my free period at work to research something that could really express just how thankful I was for bringing me back from the edge of death. I didn’t know quite what I was looking for but knew it would hit me when I saw a great idea. And then I found it. I called Kieran later that night and asked if he wouldn’t mind freeing up one of his Thursday nights.
“Sure,” he said. “I’m free on Thursdays after six.”
I didn’t bother asking why after six. I was too excited. And it didn’t matter anyway because we didn’t need to leave until seven.
The week flew by and, ironically, I didn’t see much of Kieran. That Thursday, I rushed home and did a quick change out of my work clothes. I grabbed my hoodie and slipped it on. I made the short walk to Kieran’s house, grateful for a clear and cool night, and rapped on the door.
“It’s open.”
“Hey,” I said after stepping inside. “Ready?” I walked toward the kitchen table where Kieran was sitting behind a laptop.
“Yep,” he said, clicking the wireless mouse one last time. “Just had to submit an assignment.”
“Assignment?” I said, scrunching my face. “Assignment for what?”
He grabbed his hoodie off the chair and put it on. “For class.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Are we taking my car or yours?”
“Mine. I’m driving tonight. What class?”
He threw on his baseball cap. “I started taking online classes at the community college.”
It’s then that I noticed the textbook on the table. I walked closer to get a better look.
Introduction to Horticulture.
“Horticulture?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I figured it’s a start, right?”
A small smile curled the end of my lips. “Absolutely.”
“So, are you ready to tell me where we’re headed?”
“Not a chance,” I said, pulling the front door open. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”
* * * *
“We’re going on the highway?” he asked as I drove onto the entrance ramp.
“Yes.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“It’s a surprise. How does it feel?”
He squirmed in his seat. “If I were the one driving, I’d feel a lot better.”
“Don’t worry. We’re almost there.”
A half hour later and we were crossing the Ben Franklin Bridge. Kieran was gaping out of the car window, practically bouncing in his seat. “Are we close?”
“Very close.”
I found the parking lot I Googled, and soon we were on foot, just minutes from our destination.
When we arrived at the right building, Kieran stopped in his tracks. I remained quiet, a smile plastered across my face.
“I know this place.” He looked to me and then focused on the building again. “This is the Franklin Institute.” A few quiet beats passed as he continued to admire the outside of the building. “They’re open this late?”
“It’s a special event that they have in the observatory.”
Kieran smiled. “No way.” His eyes were wide and bright.
“Way,” I said, raising my eyebrows.
“You’re serious?”
“I’m totally serious.”
He started to walk at a brisk pace toward the building. Inside, we passed the Franklin Memorial, a twenty-foot high sculpture of a sitting Benjamin Franklin. I already had the tickets I’d printed at home in my bag. We found the B elevators in the atrium that would take us to the third floor. Kieran almost sprinted as we made our way to the observatory.
Hi
s face beamed as we took turns looking into the five different telescopes. We grabbed a star map, and I listened as Kieran explained how to use it. I stared at the map as Kieran’s eye was glued to the telescope’s eyepiece.
He pulled back. “Take a look,” he said. “It’s the constellation Aquarius.”
I focused one eye through the eyepiece and squinted my other. I pulled back for just a moment to look at the map again. I had no idea what I was looking for. “Wow,” I said, the outline of the stars finally making sense. “Very cool.”
At another telescope, we found nebulae and even a few planets. I nodded and smiled as he talked about interstellar clouds of dust and ionized gases, loving every minute of his giddiness. He was actually giddy. He had this goofy grin on his face as he pulled me from telescope to telescope. I think he even knocked an eight-year-old out of the way. We stayed until they kicked us out, and I had to pull Kieran by the arm to actually get him to leave the building.
“So?” I asked when we were walking back to the car. “What did you think?”
“That was unbelievable.” He made an abrupt stop. “Thank you. That was really, really incredible.”
“You’re welcome. I just wanted to thank you for taking such good care of me.”
He had this boyish look on his face, that sweet smile that made me smile just thinking about it. I was feeling so happy at that very moment, still channeling Kieran’s excitement. I didn’t want the night to end just yet. “So, what next?”
Kieran raised his eyebrows. “You up for some more fun?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I thought we’d get lost in the city. Get off the beaten path for a while. How’s that sound?”
“Does that mean you’re turning yourself over to me?”
“Sure,” I replied. “You lead the way.”
We walked South Street for a couple hours, stopping first to eat the largest slices of pizza I’d ever seen. We went into a few stores, a t-shirt shop that only sold shirts with quirky sayings, and a sex shop overflowing with dildos of every size and shade. I picked up one or two, startled by their weight. Kieran blushed the entire time while I giggled, picking up items I was sure no human being was meant to insert into their body. After a couple of hours and four sore feet later, we tried to look for the car. That took another half hour since neither one of us bothered to remember the name of the intersecting streets. Kieran drove home while I laid my head against the cold hard glass of the window.