23. Theo
Frustration and helplessness warred for the top spot inside me.
I’d nearly lost it when I saw Indie leaning miserably against the tree in front of our building. Did she even realize how cold it was outside? The stupid hoodie with the wrong jersey number (I’d make sure to fix that right away) on it and a pair of thin pajama bottoms were no match against cold autumn winds in Toronto. It might not have snowed yet, but it was still cold enough to make her sicker.
I hadn’t been able to stop myself from picking her up and bringing her inside. Yeah, it might not have been my place to take over like that—I was sure she’d let me know when she was well enough to yell at me again—but no part of me could stand there and let her freeze even a minute longer.
Frustrated at myself for not pressing her when she’d said she’d come down with a cold that was “no big deal,” I left her in her bed and made my way to her kitchen to look for a thermometer.
When she’d replied with short, generic texts while I was away for back-to-back series, I’d thought she was trying to give me the brush-off. She’d turned me down twice when I’d asked to see her last night and then this morning. I’d come home ready to battle my way through whatever excuses she was going to give me about keeping our connection to a “one-night thing.”
Now, I knew she hadn’t been lying about the cold. She’d been downplaying how unwell she felt. My chest hurt at the idea that it hadn’t even occurred to her to ask for my help.
Indie wasn’t alone. She had me. I was going to keep on being there for her until she understood that this was where I wanted to be.
I dug around in the kitchen for any medicine that could bring down her fever. When I found nothing in her cupboards, I nudged a couple of things aside in her purse and hit the jackpot.
Not only did I find a bottle of medicine, but a ratty old piece of paper also fell out of her wallet. Not able to overcome the impulse to read it, I scanned what looked to be a bucket-list type thing. I quickly added an item of my own at the bottom with a nearby pen before stuffing it back in her bag.
I could only hope when she found out, she would forgive me. I wanted to be the one she chose to have all those new experiences with.
When I returned to her room with some soup and medicine, Indie was in the same position as when I’d left her bedroom. She’d fallen asleep in the few minutes I’d been gone.
Gizmo, who was awake, looked at me expectantly from her dog bed. Lifting her head, she made a little huffing noise through her nose, causing one side of her lips to roll inward.
“Why didn’t you tell me that she was this sick? Just because you can’t talk, do you think that’s a valid reason for not giving me the inside scoop?” I asked.
Giz just cocked her head at me and laid back down again with an “I can’t believe how delusional these hoomans are” kind of sigh .
“You’re right. It’s not your job. I just wish I’d been here to take care of her sooner.” I gave Giz a small stroke on her head with two of my fingers. She was such a tiny dog that I couldn’t even use my whole hand to pet her. “You’re a very good girl keeping Mommy company.”
I shook two pills into my hand and gently pressed her shoulder to wake her up. It took a couple of soft movements of my hand, and she was squinting up at me.
“You need to eat, baby. But first, take these.” I braced myself for her refusal, but she just nodded minutely, put them in her mouth after I gave them to her, and swallowed them with the glass of ice water I handed her next.
I couldn’t stop myself from touching her. Truthfully, I wanted to climb in that bed with her and hold her so I could feel the second her fever started to go down and make sure she got enough sleep, but I’d taken a lot of liberties today with carrying her inside and now delivering food and medicine.
I settled for just holding her hand, hopefully reassuring her that I wanted to stay.
I didn’t want her to put up any walls and throw me out for being too much. She still hadn’t said anything, so I didn’t know what she was thinking or how she was feeling.
“Hopefully, they will help bring your fever down. When was the last time you ate anything?” She just shrugged a reply.
“Do you think you can eat some soup?” I indicated the still-steaming bowl of canned soup that I’d heated up in her microwave.
She sat up slowly, putting her back against her headboard. “Maybe,” Indie rasped. Jesus. Her voice sounded rough. I winced in sympathy.
“Okay. That’s good, baby.” Not waiting for her to reach for it herself, I took the bowl from her nightstand and grabbed the spoon with my other hand.
I sat down on the edge of the bed close enough to her that I could feel the heat of her thigh against my side.
“You are not going to feed me.” Indie mustered what must have been her fiercest expression at the moment. I had to stop myself from chuckling because fearsome she was not. The red skin around her nose lessened the effect. It complemented her adorable scowl.
It made something inside me settle, knowing I could be here for Indie. I hoped I could give her the same feeling of comfort that my mom always gave me when I was sick.
I needed to grab her some better-quality tissues. There was nothing fun about blowing your nose with sandpaper when you felt like crap.
Everyone knew you had to get the lotion tissues when you got really sick. Those were the best. A pang of sadness hit me, remembering the way my mom would come home with her arms full of the best tissue boxes every time one of my siblings or I got sick.
She’d tuck me up on the couch, surrounded by blankets, and let me choose whatever I wanted to watch on TV for the whole day. Mom did the same thing for my siblings. It was the best medicine. Had I felt that cared for since we lost Mom?
Pushing the feeling of longing aside, I focused back on Indie, who needed me now.
“I could.” I smiled, pleased at least that she had the energy to tell me off, even just a little bit. “It would be very romantic. Like a low-key picnic. Our first date.”
“We are not going to have our first date with me looking like an ad asking for donations for your local hospital,” Indie choked out.
I lifted a spoonful of soup out of the bowl, moving it slowly toward her.
“Theo.” A warning .
“Okay, baby. You win. I won’t feed you. And don’t worry, I’ll think of something much better for our first date.” I winked at her.
“I didn’t say we were going on a date, Theo.” Indie took the soup bowl I placed in her hands, thankfully lifting the spoon and taking a sip.
I didn’t reply right away, instead waiting for her to take a few more mouthfuls. Even if it didn’t taste the best, she was eating at least.
“I distinctly heard you say we were going on a first date. I’ll make you a deal. You finish that soup and try some of the gourmet toast I made. Those char marks are a sign of a culinary delicacy, by the way, and not your temperamental toaster. And I’ll let you choose what we do.” I grinned at her.
“You are impossible.” Her voice sounded a little less strained, the soup working its magic already.
“Baby, I didn’t get to where I am by sitting around and going with the flow. When I want something, I make it happen.” I hoped she read my every intention in the direct stare I gave her.
“I’m not your ‘baby,’” Indie muttered as she continued to eat.
“Our night together suggests otherwise. But let’s not debate it now. Wouldn’t want you to lose your voice, eh?”
I couldn’t stop the chuckle when she stuck out her tongue at me. But she didn’t stop eating until the bowl was empty. I managed to get her to take two bites of toast before her fever must have spiked again, making her drowsiness return.
I tucked her comforter back around her and made my way around to the other side of the bed. Easing myself onto the other side of the mattress, I sat against the headboard and pulled out my phone.
While she napped, I entered the list of the grocery items I was going to get delivered this afternoon so I had better options to take care of her with .
Once that was done, I fired off a quick email to team services requesting delivery of three Tempests hoodies.
This time with the right number on them. That way, even when I wasn’t here to keep her warm in my arms, she’d be reminded how much I wanted her to be mine.