Okay, she’s hydrating. She’s resting. But she needs something nutritious, and someone to monitor her fever. As much as I’d love to do it myself, I don’t want to be presumptuous and leave a bad impression on her family.
“Claire? I’m going to call your mom. I’ll be right in the hall.”
She gives a little grunt of acknowledgment, so I get up and dial her mom’s number again.
“Ryan?” she says, answering the call after the first ring. “Is she home?”
“She’s home. She’s really sick, though. I think it’s the flu.”
“Oh, no,” she murmurs.
“I’m happy to stay here with her,’ I say. “I had the flu already, so I can’t catch it from her.”
“You’re sure that’s what she has?”
“Yes.” No, not really. But the symptoms look very similar to what I went through a couple months ago. Besides, if I go back to work now, I’ll drive myself crazy with worry. At least being here, I can see if she gets worse, and I know someone who cares about her—me—will see to her every need.
“You’re okay with this?” she asks.
“I am. Unless either you or Zach wants to come instead.”
She pauses. “I have a very weak immune system. Of course I’d come take care of her if she needed me, but?—”
“No, I understand.” And I do. Claire’s mom isn’t selfish, and I understand her desire to stay well. I swallow my pride before repeating the other option. “And Zach?”
“I don’t… Zach isn’t… Well, he’sZach,” she stammers. “If you’re already there and feel confident in caring for her?—”
“I do.”
“Then I think it’s best if you stay.”
And there it is. The last piece of permission I need to feel comfortable staying here. “Sounds good.”
“Don’t let her take any NyQuil, though. It makes her slightly delirious.”
“Uh, too late,” I say.
She snorts a laugh. “Then you’re in for some fun.”
“I can handle it. I’ll update you so you don’t worry.”
“Thank you, Ryan. Thank you so much.”
We say goodbye, and I shoot off a text to Grace letting her know that Claire is safe but will probably have to cancel her classes this week.
“Ryan?” My chest aches at the sound of Claire struggling to say my name.
I rush back to the bedroom. “I’m here, Claire. What do you need?”
She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just takes me in at my post in her doorway. I step closer to her bed and kneel beside her, my hands resting on the mattress next to her shoulders.
One of her hands slides out from under the blanket and rests on top of mine. I’d think it was an accident, but she squeezes my fingers with her burning hot ones.
“Just stay with me,” she whispers.
I turn my hand over so our palms are touching and squeeze her hand.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
