Chapter 27 Just a Dream
twenty-seven
Just a Dream
I’m back in my bed. My body is on fire. Everything hurts. I struggle to push the covers off. It all must have been a dream, some horrible fever-induced dream.
I’m afraid to open my eyes. What if it wasn’t a dream? My heart feels hollow. I force myself to look around. My room is gray. It must be daylight, but the blinds are closed. Someone's hand is covering mine. I struggle to focus on his face.
“Michael?”
He takes my hand. His voice cracks. “Jess, are you okay?”
I struggle to make sense of anything. “Michael,” I croak again. “Why are you here?”
“I was in town for my mom's birthday. I would have called, but I didn't think you'd want to see me. I came as soon as I heard." He turns away, still gripping my hand.
As soon as I heard you were sick. I want him to finish that way. I don’t want to believe there’s another reason for him to be here. It’s just a nightmare.
He leans close to my face and strokes my hair. His eyes are wet.
“Please, what can I do for you? I only want to help.”
I pull my hand from his and press my fists into my eyes. I want to shut him out, shut all of this out. I want the world to go dark again. I feel like I’m going to throw up again. This time I don’t think it’s physical.
“Kendra,” I say suddenly. “Find Kendra. I need to know if she’s okay.”
Michael covers my hand with his. “I’ll find her. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He leaves. I close my eyes again, no tears. Why can’t I cry? Someone is coming in and out of my room—rummaging through my closet, through my drawers. I don’t know who it is. I don’t care. I can only focus on the pain and horrible emptiness in my chest. I drift away again.
I wake up to voices in my room. This time I’m not na?ve enough to think everything is a dream. “Has she taken anything?” It’s a woman’s voice I don’t recognize.
Nichole answers, “I don’t think so. She threw up last night. She’s only been up once since then, when she got the phone call.”
A hand on my forehead. “She’s burning up. Get my thermometer. In my work bag.”
I open my eyes. My head pounds. Michael is kneeling beside my bed. “Did you find Kendra?”
“She’s already on her way home. I brought my sister, Karen, back with me. She’s a doctor.”
Karen takes my temperature. When she looks at the display, she shakes her head. “103.1,” She hands the thermometer to Nichole. They’re all hovering around my bed. “Have you taken anything for the fever, Jess?”
I shake my head.
“How do you feel?” She hesitates. “I mean physically.”
“Achy, hot, pretty horrible.”
“You have the flu. It’s been bad this year. The vaccine wasn’t a good match. You need to stay in bed, rest, get lots of fluids. You look dehydrated.”
I start to sit up. “I need to go home.”
Karen shakes her head. “Your family doesn’t need this right now. Get a few days of rest. Then, have someone drive you. I wouldn’t recommend your going now.”
I lie back down and press my hand into my face. How can I possibly stay here?
Michael takes my hand. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
I open my eyes and look into his, pleading. “I want to go home. Now.”
Karen shakes her head. “There’s nothing you can do now, Jess, nothing but make them sick. A couple of days.”
“No.” I moan and turn my face to the wall. Swallow. My throat aches; it’s sore too. When they’re all gone, I’ll drive myself. I have to be home.
Michael touches my face. “I’ll take you home.”
“Mike, you can’t,” Karen starts.
“I have to do something.” His voice is choked with tears. The sound makes my throat hurt more.
Karen sighs. “Okay. But I want her to take something to bring the fever down. Keep an eye on her temperature. If it goes any higher, you’d better take her to the ER.” She lowers her voice. “I don’t recommend this for either of you, but I know I can’t change your mind.”
She leans over me. “I’m sorry, Jess, for you, for your family.”
She leaves. Michael gets up. Nichole is standing over me with medicine and a glass of water. I take the pills and then lie back down. They’re talking in the hall outside my door.
Nichole comes back in and sits on the side of my bed. “I packed for you. Extra everything. A couple of dresses for…the service. I’ll be coming…when you know the details.” She squeezes my hand and turns away so I don’t see her tears.
Michael comes back in. “Are you ready?”
Ready? I’m in my pajamas. My hair is crazy, wild and wet with sweat. I should get up and get dressed. I should at least comb my hair—stupid things to think about now.
He doesn’t wait for me to answer. He picks me up, blanket and all, and carries me out of my apartment, down the stairs, to Jacob’s car. I remember Jacob telling me not to let any other guys drive his car. There isn’t anything I can do about that now.
Michael slides me into the back seat. There are pillows and blankets piled in the back. “Are you comfortable?”
My whole body is hot and achy. My heart is hollow. The seat is too short for me to stretch out on. Comfortable isn’t possible. I nod anyway.
He climbs behind the wheel. I close my eyes. The effort of being carried to the car has left me exhausted. I drift in and out of consciousness, in and out of reality.
My cell phone rings. I open my eyes. It’s on the seat next to Michael. He reaches over and picks it up. “Hello…yes…Michael Stephens.” He’s talking quietly. “Oh… hi. Yeah. I’m sorry, very sorry to hear about your brother.”
I strain my ears to hear. Tyler?
“I’m taking her home. She’s sick…the flu…she’s asleep in the backseat. No, don’t worry, I’ll take care of her…Sure, I’ll tell her you called. Again, I’m sorry about your brother. He was a good man… I’ll tell her you said that…You’re welcome, Ricks.”
Jacob! An involuntary moan escapes my lips as Michael snaps the phone shut. He doesn’t hear me. “Jacob.” I whisper his name. All I can think about now is how he must be hurting. How much I need to talk to him.
Michael keeps driving. His eyes on the road. He must not hear me.