“Of course I will.”
“No. I mean right here. Next to me. Please?”
In December 2008, Norah had decided she was going to decorate their entire apartment with tinsel and hideous clay Santas and colored lights. She was determined to make Chase a “Christmas person.” Every night for two weeks she made Chase pick a Hallmark Christmas movie for them to watch together. And sure enough, by night eight, Chase found herself smiling in the glow of their overdone tree that was far too big for the space, no longer resenting a holiday she deemed commercial and overrated. Norah had a way of making everything seem special, her enthusiasm for life contagious to everyone around her.
On Christmas Eve morning Chase was up before Norah, which was strange, since Norah was usually padding around the kitchen, making coffee and preparing for whatever cookie baking or elaborate meal she had planned for the day. This was their second holiday season together, and Chase knew Christmas Eve was Norah’s favorite day of the year.
She reached over and curled her arm around Norah’s middle, pulling her close. Her body felt hot, and she was damp with sweat. Norah didn’t roll over to smile and kiss her like she normally would. Instead, she moaned softly and curled up intoa ball. As soon as she did, a violent cough followed, and she sat bolt upright, looking like she was struggling to catch her breath.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Chase sat up just as quickly and started rubbing her back. “Are you okay?”
Once her breathing settled again, Norah looked at Chase weakly and muttered, “I think I’m sick.”
“You’re burning up. Here. Let me get you some Tylenol.”
Norah slept most of Christmas Eve day, but Chase thought for sure by Christmas morning, she’d rally. She didn’t. Instead, her breathing became even more labored, and her body was wracked with chills that shook the whole bed, until Chase finally helped dress her in her warmest hoodie, wrapped her parka around her shoulders and guided her out to the car. She drove into the stillness of Christmas night, the roads coated with a layer of fresh snow, the air cold and windless, until they reached the front door of the emergency room.
Pneumonia. A bad pneumonia, too. Both lungs were affected, and Norah’s oxygen levels were low enough that the doctor threatened them with a ventilator if she didn’t turn around quickly. For three days Chase sat by her bed every minute she could, leaving only when the nurses made her so they could take Norah down the hall for another round of tests. She knew Norah was strong. She was young and healthy. The odds were overwhelmingly in her favor. But seeing her so frail and helpless unlocked every nightmare Chase had ever had—what would her life be without Norah?
Norah had fallen asleep on her stomach, her arms tucked under her with her cheek resting on her hands. Her hair was damp with sweat around her neckline, and her breathing was faster than Chase would have liked. It was odd how after all this time she’d managed to block out thinking that Norah was going to die. Onceshe recovered, that feeling Chase had, the feeling of nothingness that came from imagining who she’d be without her—simply dissolved. She went back to her day-to-day, and, in some ways, she figured that meant probably taking Norah for granted on some level. The iPad lay in Chase’s lap, but it was just for show. Nothing had been done since John left them earlier in the day. Norah had been too sick, and Chase was too scared. John would take care of the rest of the world. Chase just had to worry about Norah. She placed the tablet on the small card table next to her and moved to Norah, careful not to wake her as she lay down on the cot next to her. Norah stirred a little, and Chase turned gently onto her side, tracing patterns on the back of Norah’s bare shoulders with her fingertips, counting her every breath.
“Please be okay,” she whispered against her ear, letting Norah’s hot skin warm her own, until Chase, too, fell asleep.
If it weren’t for the shrill ringing of the FaceTime alert on Norah’s phone, they might have stayed asleep until dawn. Norah was disoriented but feeling a little stronger and was able to grab the phone next to her. It was dark, and she registered that the time in the corner of the screen read 9:02 p.m.
Jamie’s face looked back at them from the phone as Chase sat up next to Norah.
“It’s Jamie.” Norah was still incredibly fatigued, and the fog in her brain was like thick smoke clouding her thoughts, but she managed to tap the green “accept” button.
“Captain! I’m so sorry to bother you. How are you feeling?”
Norah smiled politely. “A little better, thank you, Lieutenant.”
“I thought you’d want to know. Stevens. He’s—”
Norah’s already rapidly beating heart, fighting hard against whatever virus was running rampant in her bloodstream, seemed to trip over itself.
“Oh, God.”
“No! He’s okay. They took him off the ventilator tonight. The doctor there said they, um, extubated him? Is that the right term?”
Norah and Chase locked gazes, hardly able to contain their excitement. “So he’s breathing on his own?”
“He’s awake! I haven’t talked to him yet, but his team called us and said he was sitting up in bed flirting with the nurses and asking for ice cream. That’s good, right?”
“Yes!” Even with a violent headache tormenting her, Norah beamed. “That’s so good, Jamie. Thank you. Thank you for letting us know.”
“Get some rest, Captain.” Jamie waved enthusiastically and disconnected the call.
Norah and Chase just looked at each other for a second, grinning, until Norah took both of Chase’s hands in hers and squeezed hard. “He’s going to be okay. People can survive this thing. I can survive this thing.” For the first time in a long time, Norah rode a small wave of hope, one just big enough for her to admit she might be fighting the same battle Stevens was.
“Chase, there’s something I need to tell you…”
Chapter Thirteen
Before she could get the words out, John’s voice boomed outside of Norah’s tent.
“Delivery.”
