Chapter 25
Bill’s fever was far too high. Touching his forehead was like touching a radiator. Ann called the doctor and then took Junior over to her in-laws’ to keep him away from the germs.
The doctor couldn’t come until later in the day. Whatever it was Bill had, everyone was coming down with it, the doctor said.
Ann stayed over at her in-laws’ except at mealtimes when she went back to make food for Bill and check on him.
At lunch, he looked pale and sweaty. There were dark circles under his eyes even though he’d done nothing but sleep for the last day and night. He had a terrible cough that made her wince just to hear it. But the first words out of his mouth weren’t about him. “Is Junior all right?”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Have you spoken to Pritchard?”
She stared at him. In the midst of everything, he was still desperate to clear his name.
“I haven’t tried to call him today. I’ve been too concerned about you.”
“Call him now. Please.”
Reluctantly, she turned toward the telephone. “Are you sure you want me to do this now?”
“Please, Ann.” He descended into a coughing fit.
She dialed and had the operator put her through.
“Ernie Pritchard?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Ann O’Donnell.” How odd it felt to say her new name.
“Hiya, Ann. What can I do for you?”
Now the part she was dreading. “Well…you see…it’s rather awkward, but I was hoping you could explain something to me.”
“Sure thing. What is it?”
She took a deep breath and looked at Bill who was watching her with hopeful, pleading eyes. “Can you tell me what happened Thursday night? Bill said you went out together.”
“Sure. We went out for drinks. Why do you ask?”
Swallowing, she braced herself to explain. “Bill came home with lipstick on his collar, and I was worried. He said I should talk to you. Can you tell me what happened? Please be honest. I need to know the truth.”
“The honest truth, I swear on my mother’s grave, is that Bill did nothing wrong.
I was with him the whole night. There was a girl I liked, and she had a friend.
The friend got a little too drunk and passed out.
Bill and I helped her get home safe, and then Bill went back to his hotel alone.
Nothing happened between them except some polite conversation.
She must have gotten lipstick on him when she was passed out. ”
She let out a long, slow breath, wishing talking to Ernie made her feel better than it did.
“Ann, you should know something. Bill talks a lot of nonsense, but he’s a really good guy.
I recently ran into a couple of the women he dated before you, and they complained about how dull, boring, and respectful he was when he accompanied them home.
I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, but it’s true.
I just wish I’d believed him sooner when he said he turned over a new leaf. ”
His story matched Bill’s. Was it enough?
Did it make her feel any better? Yes, she decided.
It did, at least a little bit. It wasn’t proof that nothing happened, but she’d never get that.
She would have to accept what Ernie said and hope for the best. The only other choice was suspicion, and she couldn’t see how it would benefit her to hang onto it.
Nonetheless, her heart hung onto a last shred of doubt, determined to defend itself from obliteration if she was wrong.
“Thank you, Ernie. I appreciate it. I know Bill does too. I’ll let you go.”
As soon as she hung up, Bill asked, “Now do you believe me?”
“I’ll never know for certain, but I want to believe you. I’ll try to give you the benefit of the doubt.” It was the most she could offer.
“For God’s sake, what did he say?” He reached for her shoulders and forced her to meet his agonized gaze.
“He confirmed what you said about the lipstick and even told me that he talked to women you used to date. According to him, you turned over a new leaf even before you met me.” She wanted to believe it. Truly, she did.
“But you still have doubts?”
She didn’t know what to say, but she couldn’t keep looking at him, or her heart was going to break right in half. So she turned her gaze downward.
He gripped her shoulders harder. “Please, Ann, I can’t live like this. There must be something I can do to make you believe me.”
Oh, her poor husband. “I don’t want to suspect you. I promise I am letting go, to the extent I can. You scared me badly. I forgive you for whatever happened that night, but I can’t force the doubt away completely. Only time will erase it.”
She could see it was torturing him to be even the slightest bit out of her good graces. He was always so eager to please, this husband of hers. He looked so sick and miserable. It broke her heart.
“I care for you, Bill, and I’m trying not to hold this against you. But trust will take time to rebuild. You shouldn’t worry about it now, though. You’re too sick.”
“Ann, as long as I draw breath, I will worry over you, though the way this cold is making me feel, that might not be very long.”
She froze. Every muscle in her body tensed. “Don’t joke about that. Don’t you dare.” The mere thought of losing Bill sent her into a tailspin of panic. She didn’t have it in her to go through that again.
“I’m sorry. That was inconsiderate.”
“It’s all right. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
She put some soup on the stove to heat and took the moment with her back turned to compose herself. Unable to stop herself from wondering “what if,” she lost herself for a moment in horrible imagination—Bill gone, herself alone again, Junior without a father again.
She couldn’t lose Bill. It was unthinkable. They’d only just married. This was a bad cold and nothing more. He would get through it.
“Ann, I’m not going to leave you. We’re going to live a long and happy life together.”
She turned back to him and pasted on a smile. “Of course we will.”
“Ann,” he said in a warning voice.
“It’s forgotten. Everything is forgotten. In fact, let’s start over again right now, shall we? Let’s erase the last few days and try again.”
Bill exhaled slowly. “Thank you for making me soup. Did you know chicken soup was invented by the Greeks?”
“What? How do you even know that?”
“Or maybe it was the Sumerians, and they didn’t bother to write down the recipe in cuneiform. But the ancient Greeks definitely put chickens in a pot and boiled them with vegetables to make soup.”
He looked so adorable with his lopsided grin that she wanted to climb on top of him and kiss him silly. If only he wasn’t deathly ill. No, she shouldn’t even think the word death. Ill. He was ill.
“I will file that away in my useless knowledge bank,” she said with a smile.
“God, your smile is gorgeous.” He put his hand over his mouth. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?” And then, growing bolder, “And why shouldn’t I compliment my beautiful wife?”
“Let me check your temperature,” she said, knowing it was only an excuse to touch him. “As I feared. Far too hot.”
“You should stay away.” He looked ready to grab her and hold on for dear life.
“Yes, I should.” She backed away regretfully. “Your soup is ready.”
She welcomed the opportunity to look away. Her cheeks heated from her brief contact with him.
Pouring him a generous bowl, she brought it to him in bed.
He slurped it down with vigor, but when he finished, he was panting like he’d just finished a long run.
“It was delicious, dear.” He handed her back the bowl and then burst into a coughing fit so violent, she was worried he might vomit up what he just ate. “I’m sorry you’re seeing me like this.”
“I’m your wife. If anyone should see you like this, it’s me. And the doctor. Who should be here soon.”
Please get here soon. I can’t take any more loss in my life. Bill has to pull through.
A moment later, the doorbell rang. Bill pulled up the blankets and lay back. Ann ran down to get the door.
The doctor looked almost as exhausted as his patient. There were bags under his eyes, and his frown deepened as he examined Bill. “I’m afraid it’s Spanish Flu. He needs to go to the hospital and stay away from anyone vulnerable he might infect.”
The Spanish Flu! Ann had read about it in the paper, but it never occurred to her that it would spread so quickly.
Oh no. Junior.
“We have an infant son. Is he in danger?” Bill asked before Ann could get the words out of her mouth.
The doctor shook his head. “Everyone should stay away to avoid getting sick, but for some reason, the very young don’t seem to be as affected as people in their prime.”
Bill heaved a sigh of relief, but Ann’s anxiety only increased. This meant Bill was in danger, mortal danger. She couldn’t lose him. It was unthinkable.
“Bill, don’t leave me.” She ran to his bedside and threw her arms around him, knowing full well it was the worst thing she could do under the circumstances. But she had to touch him, had to hear his heart beating strong beneath her ear.
“I’ll go to the hospital to keep you safe, and then I’ll come home when I’m better. This old flu ain’t gonna lick me. I’m too tough for this nonsense.”
“Ma’am, do you need transport to the hospital?” the doctor asked.
She shook her head. “It’s only a few blocks away. I can drive him.”
The doctor took his leave, and it was just the two of them again.
“Ann, don’t panic. I’m going to be fine,” Bill said as soon as the doctor was gone. “You and Junior wouldn’t let me be anything but fine, now, would you?”
A tear dripped down her cheek. Then another.
“Of course, you’re going to be fine.” She tried to put on a brave face and packed some things for him. She brought him clean clothes to put on, and he busied himself with making himself presentable to the outside world.
“Is there anything in particular you want me to bring besides clothes?”
“Books.”
She grabbed five books, including the Count of Monte Cristo, and stuffed them in his bag.
“Oh, and I need to call work and let them know.” He got up and shuffled over to the telephone and took care of it.
Once Ann had gathered his things, she helped Bill slowly down the stairs. “Who knew such a simple thing could become so difficult?” By the time he reached the bottom, he was wheezing and wiping sweat from his brow.
Ann drove him the few blocks to Nassau Hospital and supported him as he hobbled up the steps and through the porticoed entrance to the hospital.
Everyone at the hospital wore masks and gloves. As soon as the two of them came in, two nurses swooped down to whisk Bill off to parts unknown. Ann stood frozen in the entry hall, not sure what to do. After a few minutes, one of the nurses came back and spoke to her.
She could hardly focus on the woman’s words as her mind took her back to Roger.
He survived a plane crash only to die of a fever.
Was she going to lose Bill too? She couldn’t.
It was unthinkable. So little time had passed, but he’d already become such a part of her life, not to mention her heart. This couldn’t be happening.
“You already know he has Spanish Flu. I’m afraid he’s contagious, which means you need to quarantine. Stay in one place away from other people for fourteen days and clean everything you or he have touched.”
“What about my son? He’s just three months old.” The last thing she wanted to do was endanger Junior by bringing him back to the apartment, despite the doctor’s reassurances, though what she’d do about feeding him was another question, since he was still on the breast.
“He’s unlikely to have severe symptoms if he gets it, but he can carry and transmit the germs that cause this. So he should quarantine with you.”
Ann nodded and took her leave.
Quarantine. In that tiny apartment. For two whole weeks. She was going to drive herself mad, but there was nothing for it.
She drove home and cleaned the apartment from top to bottom with bleach, wiping down every surface, and throwing the windows wide open to air it out.
Whatever she could do to prevent Junior from getting it, she was intent on.
Then she took a bath and scrubbed every inch to get rid of any germs that might be on her.
After the bath, she dressed and called the O’Donnells, asking them to bring Junior over and explaining the quarantine.
Mrs. O’Donnell left Junior and a casserole right outside the door, knocked, and then stepped away. Ann retrieved Junior and the casserole gratefully and settled in for her long wait.