While Claire napsand keeps my hand captive, I use my other hand to order groceries to be delivered to her apartment—all kinds of soup, electrolyte drinks, tea with honey, and raw garlic, my mom’s favorite defense against germs. She makes a salad of cucumbers with lemon juice and raw garlic because it’s a “natural antibiotic.” I don’t know if that’s true, but the purpose of the garlic is twofold:
1) It can’t hurt her recovery, and
2) It’ll deter my desire to kiss her.
Look, if my only option was to kiss Claire with garlic breath, of course I’d take it. But I don’t think this will be my only chance forever, and I don’t want to do something dumb that I’ll regret, like kiss her while she’s slightly delirious and still engaged to the loser.
An hour after she falls asleep, she starts moving and moaning in her sleep.
“Hey, Claire,” I whisper, but she’s still not awake. I stroke the top of her head. If anything, she feels warmer than before.
“Ryan?” she murmurs.
“Yes. Yes, I’m here.”
She lets out a sigh. “We make a good team.”
I grin. I’m pretty sure she’s mostly asleep, because her eyes are closed and she’s slurring her words. “Yes, we do.” It’s funny, that’s the same thought I had when we started working on the tutoring center. I wonder what made her think of that, too.
“We’re not the same.” She shakes her head a little. “Not at ALL.”
“No, I guess you’re right.”
“But we make a good team. We complement each other.” She pauses. “You know your female students give you chili peppers on Rate My Professors?”
I snort a laugh. “Yeah, I know.”
“But it doesn’t go to your head. You’re so nice.” She sighs. “We would make some really pretty babies. Prettier than Shawna’s baby.”
Hold on…what? “We…as in, you and me?”
She nods. Her eyes are still shut, but she’s talking more than someone who’s still asleep. Her mom was right; the NyQuil must have made her loopy.
“You’d be SUCH a good dad, too.” She pouts. “Zach’s not going to be a good dad.”
“Oh, Claire,” I say softly. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this now.”
She opens her eyes and looks at me, and I jump a little. “Did you know I almost broke up with him?”
My mouth drops open. I’m too shocked to say anything.
“Right after the engagement party. I should’ve done it. Now I’m STUCK.” She throws her head back dramatically and closes her eyes again.
Okay. This might be my chance to get through to her, especially since she’s sort of delusional. Maybe I can reach into her subconscious. “You’re just engaged, not married,” I say, repeating Chase’s words to me. “It’s not too late.”
I feel a slight twinge of guilt. Is this ethical? Should I be giving her these messages when she’s not completely lucid? But I don’t think she hears me.
“At least everyone else will be happy,” she mumbles.
“What about you?” I ask. “Will you be happy?”
But the only answer I receive is soft snoring. She’s already asleep.
Great. Now I’m stuck with this new piece of information and a sleeping Claire. Part of me wants to shake her awake and get her talking more. Why did she want to break up with Zach? Was she finally seeing what I’ve seen for three years?
And what do I do with everything she just said about us being a good team and me being a good dad? As someone who had a dad who let me down in every way, I’ve always sworn I would do the opposite of what he did. Being completely honest, I think I would be a good dad. Iwantto be a dad, which is more than I can say for my own father and most guys my age. I don’t just want to have children—I want to be a father. And apparently Claire sees that.
There’s a knock at the door. The groceries must be here. I leave Claire’s side and grab the bags at the door, then head to the kitchen. Let’s just hope I can sort through these feelings without getting myself into too much trouble.
