“What kind of code?” I asked, trying to puzzle out what he meant.
“Like does ‘sick woman’ actually stand for something weird? Never mind.” Mark moved past me and into the room. “Who is she and what’s wrong with her?”
“Her name’s Elena. She’s my…” I paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to answer the question. “Friend.” It didn’t feel quite right, but Mark didn’t need to know more about my complicated/not a relationship with Elena or my even more complicated feelings. “Come on. She’s asleep, but I’ll take you back to her.”
He followed me down the hallway and into my darkened room. I’d left the door cracked so I could hear her if she woke up and needed me, but it would be better if I could set up my home system to work like a baby monitor, but less creepy. Elena lay curled into a ball under the comforter, still asleep but visibly restless. Her damp hair clung to her forehead, and she looked paler than I’d ever seen her.
“Elena, I’m Dr. Waterson.” Mark settled himself on the edge of the bed beside her, placing his bag on the floor. “I’m going to turn on the light for a few minutes.”
At the sound of his voice, she opened her eyes, blinking as if the dim glow from the bedside lamp hurt. Mascara made dark smudges on her cheeks, and she looked delicate to the point of frail.
“Who?” She struggled to sit up, and I hurried to stand in front of her, hoping seeing me might help her get her bearings.
“Don’t get up, sweetheart. Dr. Waterson is here to make sure you’re okay and to help you feel better.” I placed a hand on her shoulder, gently urging her back down on the bed.
Mark shot me a look at the endearment, but he didn’t say anything. For now, at least.
“Are you in any pain?” He pulled a thermometer out of his bag and rolled it across Elena’s forehead.
“My head hurts a lot.” She held her hand over her eyes to shield them from the light.
“I’m not surprised. That’s quite some fever you’ve got. One hundred and three.” Mark put an oxygen meter on her finger and took her blood pressure and pulse. “Did you eat anything unusual today or do anything out of the ordinary?”
“No, I had lunch at my desk. A power bar and an iced oat milk mocha. The same as every day.”
“When did you start feeling bad?” Mark tucked the blood pressure cuff and the rest of the things into his bag.
“Mid-morning, I think. I assumed it was nerves because of this afternoon. My stomach was unsettled all day.” She snuggled back into the bed, as if staying awake required too much energy.
“What was going on this afternoon?” Mark asked.
“I was coming here,” she said, her voice soft as she let her eyes drift closed.
Mark pinned me with a look that promised he’d be asking questions I didn’t want to answer later.
“I think you just picked up a nasty bug. You go ahead and rest now. I’ll tell Jake what to do to take care of you. You should feel better in a day or two, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Jake knows how to get a hold of me if something changes.” He gave her hand a squeeze and stood.
Elena mumbled a thank-you from inside her nest of covers.
“I’ll be right outside if you need me.” I wanted to kiss her on the forehead or do something to reassure her—and myself—that she’d be okay, but not with Mark watching.
I left the door cracked and followed my friend down the hallway, bracing for the questions I knew were coming. But before the interrogation started, the doorbell chimed again. I left him doing something on his phone and went to get my delivery.
Both the groceries and the takeout showed up at the same time. I set everything on the counter to deal with later, grabbed the roast beef subs and two bottles of stout and headed to the living room to face Mark and find out what I needed to do for Elena.
Handing him a waxed paper-wrapped sub and a beer, I took the other sandwich and went to sit on the chair opposite. The chair that held Elena’s bag of sex toys. I’d dropped the bag there after I’d cleaned up and some of the contents lay strewn across the seat. I knew from our earlier texting what was in the bag, but in all the excitement, I hadn’t had a chance to look at the toys.
If his expression was any indication, Mark had seen more than enough of them. I shoved a silver butt plug and a clump of delicate chains and clamps into the bag and pushed the whole thing behind me on the chair in a vain attempt to avoid that particular discussion.
“Is she going to be okay?” I knew she would. He wouldn’t be sitting here unwrapping his sub if there was anything seriouslywrong. I hoped the change of subject might distract him enough to keep from asking awkward questions. I didn’t believe it would, but it was worth a try.
“It’s too soon to tell if it’s food poisoning or a virus. The treatment is the same either way.” He smoothed out the waxed paper and picked up half the sub. “I called in a prescription for anti-nausea medicine if she’s not better by morning, but regardless, you need to let whatever it is run its course. The danger is dehydration, so when she’s awake, make sure she drinks something. Small sips or you’ll end up wearing it. Call if you’re worried or if she’s not better in a day or two.”
“Thanks, man.” I hadn’t wanted to overreact when she got sick, but it was still reassuring to have him confirm I needn’t worry.
“I assume she’s your friends with benefits and not part of some secret harem you’ve got going. And that…” He motioned in the direction of the bag tucked behind me, a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. “Was part of the afternoon’s intended play that made her mistake nerves for a stomach bug.”
“Fuck off.” There was no sting to my words, but I didn’t want to talk about the bag’s contents. Elena picked the toys that excited her most. I was going to make sure her choices stayed private.
