38
JONAH
Winnie issick for three more days. I take every day off from work, despite her protests. Thanks to her, I don’t need to worry about money quite so much anymore, and one of the best things about being self-employed is that when my wife needs me, I can stay home with her for as long as I’d like.
I bring her endless bowls of homemade chicken noodle soup, help her take a bath each day, and make sure her room is temperature controlled. While she sleeps, I work on songs for the album, making sure each one is perfect, and I do accounting for my farrier business. I’ve never been more ready for tax season in my life.
I can only go about an hour without thinking about the fact that she loves me. Shelovesme and she told me first. Though, maybe it was the fever talking.
By the end of the third day, Winnie is nearly better. She crawls out of the bedroom and joins me on the couch, though she’s still swaddled in a blanket, and her skin is pale.
“How are you feeling?”
“I don’t have a fever anymore. I just checked. Ninety-eight point six degrees, on the dot. And my headache is less intense.”She takes a sip of the broth in her cup. “And solid food actually sounds good to me right now.”
“Beau swung by with some brisket earlier. I think he was worried about you and wanted to help. I can get you a plate of it if you’d like.”
Winnie nods enthusiastically. “You know, I used to be happy when I got sick,” she tells me as I heat up the meat.
“Do I even want to know why?” I groan. “I know it’s going to be something awful about your mother.
Winnie chuckles. “Sort of. I mostly liked it because it meant I got a break. My mom would leave me alone so I didn’t infect her, and I’d get a few days of lounging around in bed, watching tv, and reading. Losing a few pounds was always an added benefit.” Her voice sours on the last part.
“Here.” I hold the steaming plate of brisket, roast carrots, and potatoes out to her. “Eat whatever you want.” I don’t want Winnie to feel any pressure. Her eating habits are her business, and even if I might want to murder her parents for the way they encouraged disordered eating, I know that saying so won’t help.
“Thanks Jonah.” She takes the plate from me and dives in, clearly well enough to appreciate food again. She pauses and says, “I hope I didn’t get you sick.”
“I feel fine,” I shrug. “I have a good immune system and if I do get sick, then you’ll be the one playing nursemaid for a few days. Not that I minded. It’s been nice staying home together.”
“It has been.” Winnie smiles, and then shovels another bite in.
“Win, I wanted to ask…” I take a deep breath. “I wanted to ask if you meant what you said the other night.”
“I did.”
“Are you sure?”
“I know my own mind, Jonah,” she says, a slight tone of annoyance to her voice. “And I mean what I say.”
I’m silent for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. But then she asks, “Why is it so difficult for you to accept that I love you?”
The words slam into me and I reel back, staring at her. “What?”
“It just seems like you don’t really trust me.” She sets her plate down and crosses her arms.
“It’s not that at all, Winnie. I do trust you. It’s just that this feels almost too good to believe. Things like this don’t happen to me, at least not lately. I don’t have much experience with love, or relationships that don’t collapse at the first sign of trouble.” I rub my face and sigh. I’m fucking up a perfect situation.
“That makes two of us. I barely have any experience either. My parents forced me to dump the last man I was interested in.” She smiles weakly at me. “I doubt they’re happy about the fact that I’m married.”
“Well, your parents aren’t here and if they try to get between us, I’ll tell them to go to hell.” And then some, I add to myself. “And I’ll tell my own stupid doubts to go to hell, too.”
“Good. I’m glad we settled that. Because I want to tell you I love you every day. And I want you to believe it.”
“I do, honey. I do.” I pull her into my lap and murmur that I love her too against the top of her head. She snuggles into my arms and sighs happily.
Now that Winnie is better,I’m back to sleeping in the large bedroom with her. Still tired from being sick, she falls asleep in a matter of minutes, her breath becoming slow and even. I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling.
Sleep normally comes easily for me, but not tonight. Tonight, I’m stuck worrying about how I can protect my wife from her own family. The security system we installed when she moved in includes cameras and an alarm, but I might need more than that. I’m not above asking my dad for one of our hunting rifles. He doesn’t go much anymore, and it was never really my thing, but I can shoot well enough. And I can definitely threaten someone to get the hell off my property.
