Chapter 7
Livvie
Misery. My weekend was nothing but misery. My lightheadedness quickly turned into a hacking cough and horrible fever. The fever brought aches with it, as well as feeling like I was about to freeze to death.
I took medicine, stuff I had in the cabinet, but it didn’t feel like it helped at all. I didn’t even have the energy to get up and get my phone to call Nana for some loving care. I just slept and only got up to pee.
Working smarter, not harder, I got everything I needed within arm’s reach when I did get up. Bottles of water and medicine, and a loaf of bread and jar of peanut butter. If I did get hungry, I’d be set.
I never even got hungry.
Nana eventually came to check on me. “Kitten?” she called from the front door of the cottage.
“In here,” I croaked.
Nana rushed in, her purse flying to the floor when she saw me huddled under a blanket. “What’s wrong?”
She put one hand on my forehead and knew instantly what the problem was. “Livvie, why didn’t you call me?”
“I should’ve,” I whispered. “But it’s just a bad cold or the flu. I figured I’d be okay in a day or two.”
That and I really wasn’t sure where my phone was.
“Do you have any other symptoms?”
I shook my head, not wanting to worry her, but of course she was worried anyway.
Besides the cough and the aches, stuff had been floating around the house like mad.
Even when I was asleep. I woke once to find the loaf of bread floating directly over my face.
When I saw it, whatever it was inside me that made things float stopped working and the bread had smacked me in the face.
Glancing at the bread, I sighed.
“Are you sure there are no other symptoms?” Nana asked.
“Besides aching from the fever and a small cough, that’s it,” I said, lying again. Telling my Nana that I was a freak of nature wasn’t something I could face right now. I just hoped that nothing floated around her.
Nor could I tell her that I’d had a burning feeling deep in my stomach for about a week now that I was pretty sure no doctor would be able to diagnose.
“Well, I’m going to make you some tea and put some herbs in it that will help strengthen you up,” Nana said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Nana, you should be resting,” I protested. She hadn’t been in her best health herself lately. I didn’t want her to strain.
“Stop worrying about me, little girl. I’ll still work circles around you and everyone else.” Nana chuckled as she walked out of the room.
Sitting up, I leaned against my headboard, intending to follow Nana into the kitchen, but I just didn’t have the gumption, so I waited in bed.
Tea did sound nice, and I kept quite a varied collection of teas from around the world.
Nana would whip me something yummy. She always had when I was sick, for as long as I could remember.
A few minutes later, I forced my eyes open when the bed moved. “Here,” Nana said. “Drink.”
I held the mug up to my lips and found the tea the perfect temperature. Not too hot or cold. It had the familiar smell of the tea she’d made for me as a child. A hint of citrus and honey. I sipped and smiled. “Perfect,” I whispered.
“I’ll have to teach you the recipe one day,” Nana said as she bustled around the room, picking up tissues and clothes and neatening up.
“You don’t have to do that,” I protested weakly, even though I knew she wouldn’t be stopped.
By the time I finished the cup, I was stunned to realize how much better I felt already. “Nana, what did you put in this tea?” I asked, looking down at the dregs. “I feel half as sick as I did five minutes ago.”
“Oh, just love.” She stopped grabbing clothes and winked at me. “And a splash of whiskey. The herbs are an old family recipe.”
“Geez, if whiskey works this well, you’ll have me drunk,” I muttered. “Can I have another cup?”
“No, no.” Nana fanned out my blankets. “Lie down and rest. Let the herbs in the tea work hard inside you. They’ll strengthen you so you can fight off the bug.”
I snuggled in. “Come sit,” I said. I didn’t know much about our family. Every time I’d asked as a child, Nana had changed the subject, until I’d eventually stopped asking.
Nana perched on the edge of the bed and smoothed my hair back with a hand that was starting to knot up with arthritis. “What is it, kitten?” she asked.
“Tell me about our family. You said this was an old family recipe, but I don’t know anything about them. You’ve never talked about anyone.” I yawned and looked up at her with my best big-eyed expression.
Nana chuckled. “Oh, now isn’t the time.”
“Nana, when you’re gone, I won’t know anything about my parents besides that they died. I think it’s time I know the whole story, don’t you?” I was twenty-five, for Pete’s sake. I’d put off asking long enough, and she couldn’t turn me down when I was this sick.
She sighed. “It’s not a pretty story. The past isn’t pretty. I’ve always wanted to spare you from the weight of the knowledge.”
What in the world? “Well, I’m old enough to not be spared anymore, Nana. Spill the beans.”
She sighed and got up, walking to the nightstand to get her cup of tea. “I need the strength,” she said with a wry chuckle. “Your parents were killed in a home invasion. They spared you, and that’s how I was blessed with the job of raising you.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “What else?”
“I moved us away from our hometown rather than have you always subjected to the sympathy stares and pity. It was a very small town, and you never would’ve escaped your parents’ death to become your own person.”
My heart cracked, for me, of course, but mainly for Nana having to move away. “It was your hometown, too, wasn’t it?” I asked.
She nodded. “It was worth it, moving. You’ve had a wonderful life here, and I’m glad I picked Bluewater to settle in.”
It was obvious the conversation was painful for Nana.
Her forehead was pinched and eyebrows furrowed.
I decided we could talk about it more another day and changed the subject.
“Well, the renovations are going well. We had a snafu with termites, but Wes took care of it, so we didn’t have to spend an insane amount of money to fix it. ”
Nana sniffed when I mentioned Wes. “I don’t have a good feeling about that man,” she said in a low voice.
“Why in the world do you say that?” I asked. It had been obvious the day they met that she didn’t care for him.
“I just have a bad feeling about him.”
I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Too many people in my life were having too many feelings about each other lately.
“You should keep your distance. He looks like a heartbreaker. And you have no experience in the men department. You definitely don’t need to have your heart broken by a man like that.”
I gasped in mock indignation, making Nana laugh.
I didn’t like to talk about my lack of experience with anyone else, but Nana knew.
I didn’t care for the reaction I got when people found out how little I’d dated.
Especially men. They were either turned off or thought it was their job in life to teach me all about what I didn’t know.
Nana patted my knee through the blanket. “Just guard your heart, little one. I’d hate to see you hurt. I’ve spent my life making sure you grew up happy and safe.”
“I love you, Nana.” Leaning forward, I gave her a big hug. “Now get out of here. I don’t want you to catch this cold.”
After she was gone, I felt so good that I took a long shower.
After I emerged, clean and dry, I felt nearly back to myself.
Good enough to walk over to the bed and breakfast to check out the progress.
They wouldn’t be working on a Sunday, so I could peek around without anyone yelling at me for going where I shouldn’t. I wasn’t an idiot. I’d be careful.
But when I stepped outside, I heard the tell-tale sounds of construction. They were working. What the crap? I wasn’t paying them overtime to work on Sundays.
With a quick step, I walked down the path toward the main building. When I emerged from the trees, I stilled.
Wes was working on a ladder with his shirt off. My mouth went dry, and blood rushed south, to a place that swelled and begged for a little alone time with the small, black vibrator in my bedside drawer.
Oh, geez. Every warning Nana gave me went flying out the window as he seemed to sense I was there. He turned and descended the ladder once he laid eyes on me. Wes handed his hammer off to someone else and walked my way.
Damn. As he walked toward me, abs rippling above his belt, I knew exactly what Nana meant. Wes was trouble.
“Where have you been?” he asked when he neared. “I was worried. Worried enough to call your grandmother. I would’ve come and checked on you myself, but I didn’t want to overstep.”
I couldn’t find the words to answer for half a tick. Instead of explaining my fever, I countered with a question. “They’re not expecting overtime for working on a Sunday, are they?” I asked.
Wes furrowed his brow. “Uh, this is Monday. We took the weekend off.”
“Oh,” I breathed. “To answer your previous question, I was sick. I had a fever. And uh, chills and stuff.”
“I wish you’d returned my calls,” he said. “I would’ve been happy to bring you soup.”
“Thanks,” I breathed. Why couldn’t I look away from his pecs?
Trouble. Complete trouble.