Chapter 15
Fifteen
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Maggie says with a look of relief washing over her face as I enter the bakery after work on Friday. “I need your help.”
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” I ask, quickly crossing the room towards her. She’s usually the picture of calm, but today she appears to be anything but. White icing streaks the front of her green smock dress, and there’s flour on both of her cheeks.
“Yes, I’m fine. We had a major mishap in the kitchen, and the wedding cake I was working on didn’t survive.”
“Okay? I’m not sure I can help with that. I know nothing about baking.”
“No, no, I don’t need help with the cake.” She furrows her brow and shakes her head. “I called a friend to give me a hand with that, but I’m going to be here all night if I am going to have it ready in time for the wedding tomorrow.”
“So, what do you need me to do?” I ask in confusion, shoving my hands into my front pockets.
“Can you drop off some things at Beck’s? My poor girl is under the weather. I picked up what she needs from the pharmacy, but I can’t get away to take it to her.”
“Oh, okay. Sure, I can do that.”
I haven’t seen Beck except in passing since I dropped her off last Saturday morning. I’m not avoiding her; I just haven’t sought her out as I wanted to.
“Thank you so much. I was about to call Riot and ask for help before you stopped in.”
Her dress twirls as she turns and rushes through the door into the kitchen. She is back just as quickly with a bag from the pharmacy. “Now, what can I get for you? I didn’t even take your order before I pounced.”
“Oh, I was going to grab a coffee before I go home.”
“Absolutely. I am also going to send you with chicken noodle soup for Beck. How about I pack enough for you as well?”
“Sounds great.” There is no sense in refusing because she’ll do it anyway. And homemade soup beats anything I’ll end up pulling from my freezer.
While I’m waiting, I notice Brian watching me from his table. I always try to be kind to the man, but I’m not interested in small talk today. I want to drop off this care package as quickly as possible and go home.
By the time I’m back in my truck, I have a box full of soup, a variety of sandwiches, chocolate chip cookies, and juice. The pharmacy bag rests on top. There is so much stuff, I’m lucky I remembered to get my coffee.
My morning drive into the village has been much quieter this week. It’s funny how over the course of a few days I got used to Beck hijacking my stereo and her constant chatter. I ended up listening to the radio to help fill the silence.
Work has been busier than usual because I agreed to add a couple of Jenna’s clients to my already busy caseload.
Today, there was an interdisciplinary team meeting that ran longer than expected.
There shouldn’t have been time to think about Beck, but no, she’s always filling space in the back of my mind.
Last night I caved and called Carson under the pretense of asking how fence repairs were going on the farm.
Then casually questioned how Nana’s car is working out for Beck.
Of course, he saw right through me. I don’t even know what’s going on in my head, so how the hell am I going to explain it to him?
When I get to Beck’s trailer, all the lights are off. The car is in the driveway, so I know she’s home. Getting out of the truck, I grab the box from Maggie and take it with me to the door. I knock twice, but there is no answer.
The wind has picked up, and the temperature has dropped over the past few hours. Though it’s still early evening, the sky is already black, the moon and stars hidden by a blanket of heavy clouds. Fuck, I really hope it doesn’t snow. I’m not ready yet. Shivering, I knock again.
This time I hear her call faintly through the door, followed by a bout of coughing. Balancing the box on my hip, I open the door and step inside.
“Beck?” I call into the darkness.
“Ryan?” she questions with a hoarse voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Maggie sent me. Why are you in the dark?”
I feel around inside the door until I find a switch and turn the lights on.
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light before I see Beck curled in a fetal position on her bed.
Blankets cocoon her, and a hood covers her head.
Placing the box on the table, I quickly cross the room and crouch down.
Pushing her damp bangs from her forehead, I feel how hot she is. “Jesus, Beck. How long have you been sick?”
“A couple of days. It’s just a cold,” she mumbles with her eyes closed.
“Are you sure? I think you have a fever.” I move my cool hand down to her cheek. “Do you have a thermometer?”
“No,” she mumbles, as she turns and coughs into her arm. “I can’t get warm, and my entire body aches,” she tells me with a raspy voice.
Rising, I go to the bag from the pharmacy and take out the bottle of acetaminophen. Shaking out a couple into my palm, I return to her with the medication and a bottle of orange juice.
“Here, this will help.” She blinks sleepily as I help her sit up before handing her the pills and the open bottle of juice. She takes a small sip before trying to give it back to me. “I need you to drink a little more, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispers before taking another drink. “Why are you here?” she asks, furrowing her brow.
“I stopped at the bakery on my way home, and Maggie asked me to drop off medicine and food. She said something about a wedding cake and couldn’t bring it herself.”
“Thank you,” she says, lying back down, pulling the blankets up under her chin.
“Do you want soup? Maggie sent chicken noodle.” I gesture towards the box on the table.
“Not right now. I need to sleep,” she mumbles, closing her eyes again. Within a couple of minutes, she’s snoring softly.
Getting up, I return to the table and unpack the food. There’s no way I am leaving her like this. She’s in no condition to take care of herself. I’ll stay at least until the meds kick in and I know she’s okay. And long enough to make sure she has something to eat.
Opening the fridge to put away the soup and sandwiches for later, I find it almost bare, except for a jar of dill pickles, mustard, and half a bottle of ketchup.
I don’t cook much, but I have more than condiments in my fridge.
Glancing over at the bed, I check to see if she’s still sleeping before peeking into her cupboards.
Soda crackers, ramen, and a jar of peanut butter.
She doesn’t even have bread. That’s pretty grim.
Which makes me wonder if this is a cooking issue or something bigger.
Surely, she has enough money to buy food.
Sitting down at the table, I take a sip of coffee and watch her sleep.
Even from here, I can see sweat beading on her pale forehead as she shivers under the blankets.
What if this is more than a cold? What if there is something seriously wrong?
Chest tightening, I set the cup down and walk back to her bed and cover her with another blanket. I don’t know what to do.
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I call someone who will.
“Hello,” Claire answers after the third ring. I can hear the noise in the background quieting and a door shutting as she moves into another room.
“Hi, Claire.” Drumming my fingers on the table, I ask, “Umm, I was wondering if you could help me.”
“Me?” I can hear the confusion in her voice. “Sure. What do you need help with?”
“Maggie asked me to drop off some medicine to Beck because she has a cold.”
“Oh, no,” she interrupts. “Ben and I both had it earlier in the week. Is she feeling rough?”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m calling. I’m pretty sure she has a fever. She woke up long enough to take acetaminophen and have a small drink. She said that her body is aching, and she’s cold.” I pause, swallowing the lump in my throat before confessing, “I’m staying but I don’t know how to help her.”
Claire’s quiet for a moment before saying, “I’m glad she’s not alone. It’s crummy being sick and not having anyone around to take care of you.”
Closing my eyes tight, I try to keep my voice steady. “I don’t mind.” Clearing the lump in my throat, I assure her. “I want to. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay. So, you think she has a fever?” she clarifies.
“Her skin is hot to the touch, but she doesn’t have a thermometer to check.”
“It’s important to bring her temperature down. The medication will do its job, but you can also put a cool cloth on her forehead to help speed up the process.”
“I’ll do that now,” I say, walking into Beck’s tiny bathroom to find a washcloth. Running it under cool water, I wring it out before returning to her and carefully draping it across her forehead. She scrunches up her eyes and nose with the contact but stays asleep.
“Done. What else?” I ask, pacing back and forth in her small space. “Is there anything I should watch out for?”
“It’s important that she rests, but equally important that she stays hydrated. You may have to wake her up in a bit and get her to take small sips of water or juice. She can have more medicine in about four hours.”
“I can do that.” My eyes sweep my surroundings then back to where Beck is sleeping.
“It’s probably a virus that needs to run its course. If her fever gets worse or she has any trouble breathing, she will need to go to the hospital.”
My heart races, and I’m thrown back in time. The memories surge up before I can push them back down.
White walls. The smell of disinfectant. A monitor beeping. Shouting. Crying.
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and expel it slowly. Then, one more time. Get your shit together. She’s going to be fine.
“Ryan? Are you okay?” she asks softly. “Do you want me to come over? Riot is already here; he can stay with Ben.”
“I’m fine. I’ll stay until I know she’s okay,” I say, running my shaking hand through my hair.
“Thank you for taking care of her. You’re a good friend. Call me back if you need help with anything else.”
“I will. Thank you,” I say before I disconnect.