“I’ve had it bad me like this before,” Eb said. “About one in the afternoon, my tonsils started to hurt, and by four I was feeling bad enough I left the office to go to my doctor. At six, I was standing in line at the pharmacy with my prescription, about ready to pass out.”
The doctor gave an affirming nod and indicated the Kinkades should follow him to the kitchen. Eb went to the couch. Sandra had lain back against the cushions again, and he took her hand.
“I’m sure you’d feel better recuperating in your own place, but Linda says everything is still in boxes. This is a sleeper sofa. I can make it up for you.” Maybe he should offer her his bed.
“No. I don’t want to expose you and Rue any more than I already have.” She tried to sit up again.
“Stay here for now. When you packed your things, did you mark your boxes?”
“Of course.”
“Just what I expected, but I thought I should ask to be sure. Do you mind if we go into your apartment and make up your bed for you?”
“Would you mind?”
“Of course not. How did you label your bedding boxes?”
She told him, and Eb felt better already now he had something to do. He joined the others at the door where the doctor was leaving.
“How do you want to handle this?” Eb asked Walt and Linda. “If you want, I can run to the pharmacy for her prescription, or you can do it and I’ll make up her bed. She told me where she’s stored her bedding.”
“Let me and Walt set her up in her apartment.” Linda glanced at her husband, who nodded.
Eb told them where to find what they’d need and accepted the prescription from Walt. When he reached for his wallet, Eb shook his head. “I’ve got this.”
He grabbed his coat again and left his condo, grateful it was only strep. Not that it wasn’t serious. His aunt had been a nurse and drilled into Eb about strep technically being a mild form of scarlet fever and could have some of the same complications.
As he drove to the pharmacy, Eb’s thoughts went back to their greeting at the airport. It’d been so nice to hold her. But who had the guy been? From how rigid Sandra had gone when the man had called her name, she’d had a bad experience with him. But he’d seemed genuinely pleased to see her. His expression when she’d introduced Eb as her husband, though, had seemed a little jealous.
Would Sandra be amenable to dating Eb? Was he putting more into a friendly hug than she’d meant to convey?
Or, and this seemed more likely, had she only snuggled into him because she was so sick she’d needed his help to stay upright? All while he’d been thinking they were having a moment.
How lowering.
* * *
Sandra wasout of it for the next few days. Mostly she slept and woke only when the painkillers had worn off. It seemed Eb was the one who checked on her the most often, though both Linda and Walt came by.
When she finally woke without a fever, the body aches gone, it was the middle of the night. Sandra wondered what day it was. She reached for her phone on her nightstand, but it wasn’t there.
Feeling yucky with stale sweat, Sandra rose from her bed and stripped the sheets from it. Then she paused, remembering she was in the new condo. Had the movers hooked up her washer and dryer?
As she tried to remember the layout of Eb’s condo, Sandra’s brain worked like she had cobwebs in it. She was thought hers had the same floor plan only in reverse. Hoping she was right but not sure what to expect, she stepped from the master bedroom. Someone had been kind enough to leave the light over the stove on, and the dim illumination showed her the room held no boxes. What had they done with her stuff?
She went to the kitchen and opened a cupboard. Someone had put away her kitchen things. Maybe Linda? Sandra then checked the second bedroom. It was full of boxes. From the labels, it looked like most of the general items plus her books.
Across from the second bedroom, she opened the door to what should be the small utility room. When she saw both the washer and dryer plugged in and hoses connected to the washer, she said a silent prayer for good friends. She returned to the bedroom, gathered the bedding, and carried it to the washer. She pulled off her pajamas, added them with the sheets, and set them to wash.
By then, Sandra was exhausted. She dragged herself across the kitchen again and into her bedroom. Staring at her bare mattress, she wanted to cry. Finally, she gathered the quilt from the floor around her and curled up on the bed.
* * *
When Sandra wokethe next time, the first rays of morning sunlight were sneaking past the window shade. She took a few seconds to assess her condition. Her stomach growled. She was definitely hungry. Considering how little energy she’d had earlier, she’d need to eat something right away.
Carefully untangling herself from the quilt, Sandra debated going out into the kitchen in her birthday suit. She couldn’t remember if the living room had drapes or if they’d been closed. The thought of the show she might have put on for anyone looking out their window last night made her groan.
A quick check of the walk-in closet showed none of her clothes had been hung up, but her robe hung on the solo hanger. After wrapping it around her, she headed to get something to eat.
