“Well,I’mokay, but Liam and Rex are down with the flu,” he says. “I went by Liam’s yesterday when he didn’t show up for work, and walked into the middle of Contamination Station. He said he couldn’t find his phone, and I just found it here at the shop. Thought I’d call to give you a heads up when I saw your missed calls and texts.”
“You’re the best, Nathan,” I tell him. “I was worried something was wrong when he didn’t answer me, even if hewasbusy with work.”
“I figured as much. Would it be possible for you to swing by the shop to pick up his phone and then check on him and our little dino man? I’m swamped at work and I don’t want Mae going anywhere near that house and risking getting Murph sick. Not that I want you to catch what they have—”
“It’s fine,” I say, cutting him off. “I’ve always had a really strong immune system, so hopefully it’ll hold up. I’ll grab his phone and then stop to pick up some flu-friendly groceries for them.”
“I appreciate it,” Nathan says. After a pause, he adds, “I know Liam will too.”
I arrive at the Doherty house less than an hour later, bearing Liam’s phone, along with some freshly-made soup from Sweet Escapes and a bag of soda crackers and juice from the grocery store. Nathan gave me his spare key when I picked up Liam’s phone so I could let myself in.
The house is dark and stuffy. The only sound is the TV, and I recognize the sounds of aStar Warsmovie from the distinctivepew pew pewof laser blasters. After taking off my coat and boots, I walk toward the sound. It’s only now I realize I’ve never been inside Liam’s house before. We always spend time at my place, the Murphys’, or around town.
I pause in the doorway to the living room; Rex is asleep in the middle of a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor, a green dinosaur plushie tucked tightly against his pajama-clad form. Liam is reclining on the couch, his upper body propped up by several pillows. I try to ignore the unpleasant smell hanging in the air and the empty garbage cans next to each of them, which I’m assuming are for emergency sickness.Blech.
“Am I hallucinating?” Liam says in a rough voice. “I thought my fever had broken. Are you an angel of mercy?”
For a second I think he’s serious—and delirious—and then I spy the twinkle in his eyes. “That’s me: an angel of mercy with plenty of liquids to keep you from getting dehydrated.” I lift the cloth bag from the grocery store. “Oh, and I picked up your phone.”
Liam pushes himself into a sitting position with what looks like a great deal of effort. His normally tanned skin has a gray tinge to it. The washed out color is a stark contrast to the dark stubble covering his cheeks and jaw. Despite his damp hairline, he has a thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this. I’m a total baby when I’m sick. Rex is more mature than I am.” He waves a hand toward his sleeping nephew and reaches for the remote to pause the movie. “Thank you for bringing supplies and my phone. You’ll understand if I don’t hug or kiss you goodbye.”
“Goodbye?”
“Yeah. I’ll call you in a day or two when we’re no longer contagious. I hate that this is cutting into our time together, but—”
“Wait, I’m not leaving, Liam” I say. “I’m going to stay and take care of you guys. Or at the very least, keep you company.”
He grunts as he struggles to sit up more. He doesn’t get far before he collapses against the pillows with a loud sigh. “I don’t want you to catch what we have, Joss. It’s been miserable.”
“Resistance is futile. Did Darth Vader say that?” I wave a hand toward the TV, then shake my head. “No, wait, that’s fromStar TreknotStar Wars. Anyway, I know it’s difficult for you to accept help since you’re usually the one doing the helping, but arguing with me is pointless, so save your energy. Now, shall I heat some soup?”
*****
My mom was the last sick person I took care of. Alan never had more than a mild cold throughout our time together; we often wondered if our strong immune systems were a result of being in such close contact with so many people—including kissing others—during the long weeks and months of filming. I try not to think about the fact he was kissing people outside his movie roles. Or how the stuffy, dark, slightly smelly state of Liam’s house reminds me of Mom’s apartment while she was sick.
Instead, I focus on tidying the kitchen and disinfecting various surfaces while the soup heats. I take juice and water to the guys and clean around them while Rex continues to doze in his nest and Liam watches me with bleary eyes. It’s too cold to open the windows, but I push back the curtains to let some light in. A giant Christmas tree stands in the corner, decked out with colorful glass baubles, decorations I assume Rex made, and fandom-related collectible ornaments ranging from superheroes to space heroes. I plug the lights in, admiring their golden glow for a moment before turning to find Liam smiling in my direction.
When Rex wakes up, he cons me with his puppy dog eyes into crawling into his pile of blankets and hand-feeding him soup. His rosy cheeks and clammy skin tell me he has a low-grade fever even before I check his temperature with the thermometer I found in the kitchen. I give him a dose of the child-safe medication Liam shows me and then snuggle him until he falls asleep again.
It takes some maneuvering to disentangle myself from Rex’s hold. I end up rolling onto the hardwood floor with a painful thump in order to avoid disturbing him too much. While on my hands and knees, I peer up at Liam, who’s watching me with a tired yet amused smile.
“I’d offer to help you, but I currently have the strength of a newborn kitten.”
I laugh under my breath as I push myself to my feet, rubbing my sore knee where it whacked the floor. “I’m good.”
“Does this mean it’s my turn for cuddles now?” he asks.
I climb onto the couch, and Liam draws me into his arms. We shift around so I’m holding most of his weight, with his head on the soft part of my shoulder. He lets out a long sigh when we get settled.
“Are you going to fall asleep on me too?” I ask.
“Probably.” He gives me a squeeze. “I’ll try to hang on for a while. Thanks for taking such good care of me and the boy today. I’m glad you didn’t let me talk you into leaving.”
“I’m glad too.” I run my hands through his soft, thick hair, feeling him sigh against me once more.
“I remembered something today that I hadn’t thought about in a long time.” The words come out slowly, as if they take more effort than usual. “Normally when I got sick as a kid, my mom depended on the Murphys or Nathan’s mom to take care of me. Nathan and I always seemed to catch the same thing at the same time, so Mom would ship me off with the reasoning that Nathan and I could keep each other company. I didn’t know it was an excuse at the time.”
