36. Carina
THIRTY-SIX
CARINA
The beeping of my alarm wakes me up. Groaning, I kick back the blanket. I’m completely exhausted. I didn’t sleep well, and I feel absolutely horrible. With only a few days left at sea, I’m ready to be done.
“Whoa,” I mumble when I sit up. I feel dizzy, nauseous, and hot.
I didn’t think to bring a thermometer with me, so I can’t take my temperature and see if I have a fever.
Yawning, I notice my ears feel funny. Tugging on them provides limited relief, but when Peter says good morning, I hardly hear him.
“I’m awake. You didn’t need to whisper,” I say.
He gives me a confused look and says something. I see his mouth moving, but I hear nothing above a mumble. What is wrong with me? Panicked, I question, “Is it possible to lose your hearing without a reason?”
Peter shakes his head and then holds up his pointer finger, indicating for me to wait.
Okay. Walking to his bunk, he digs through his duffle.
He must find what he’s looking for because he makes his way back over to me with a notepad and pen in his hands.
He scribbles something down and hands the pad to me.
Are your ears the only thing bugging you?
I shake my head and pen my response.
I feel hot, I’m dizzy, and my stomach is upset too.
He nods and writes something else.
Do your ears feel achy, full, or clogged?
“Yes, all of those,” I blurt out. He grimaces. I must be louder than I intended because of my sudden hearing loss. Self-conscious, I go back to writing.
Do you know what’s wrong with me?
I’m not a doctor. I’m a father of four, two of whom had chronic earaches requiring the placement of tubes. What you’re dealing with sounds like an ear infection.
I’ve never had one of those before. Do I need medical attention?
At the doctor’s office months ago, I remember reading an article by a doctor who said that ear infections often go away on their own.
It also said only to see your doctor if the symptoms get worse or they last longer than three days.
Right now, I’m stuck on a boat in the Bering Sea.
Our plan today is to finish last-minute data collection and then head back toward Kodiak later.
With it taking over a day to get back, I realize there’s nothing I can do.
Did you bring a thermometer with you?
Peter shakes his head, then frantically writes something.
I bet the captain has a first aid kit, and he may have one in there. Let me go check.
“Thank you,” I call out as Peter heads out of the bunks.
I lie back in my bed too quickly, and my dizziness gets worse.
Taking my time to sit back up, I’m surprised to find Henrik at the door, looking concerned.
Hopefully, Peter has told him what’s going on.
I force a grin and wave at him. His posture is noticeably tight.
Clutched in his massive hands is an oral thermometer.
He pushes it at me. I look into his eyes, and they’re churning with worry.
Sliding the thermometer under my tongue, I wait.
I see Peter say something to Henrik and then leave.
He’s probably going to tell my colleagues I’m sick.
Sitting there, staring at my handsome boyfriend, a thought strikes me.
If he’s here, who’s captaining the boat?
My mouth opens to ask, and Henrik shakes his head and gives me the universal one-minute finger sign.
Closing my mouth, I keep waiting. If the thermometer beeps, I don’t hear it.
My only sign something happened is when Henrik reaches toward my face and pulls the thermometer from my mouth.
He looks at it and then turns it around for me to see.
No fever. Since it’s under a hundred, I breathe a sigh of relief.
With my mouth empty, I can finally ask, “Who’s captain right now?”
Henrik smiles and mouths, “Kai.” Then he leans forward and gently pulls me into his arms. Cradled against his chest, I feel safe and protected.
He turns slowly. Peter must have told him about my other symptoms. He walks toward his room and opens the door.
Then he lays me on his bed. Instantly, I’m surrounded by his woodsy, masculine scent, and I relax into his blankets.
Exhausted, I mumble, “I shouldn’t be in your bed. Cody forbade it.” I’m dizzy, and the need to close my eyes is strong. Trying to stay alert, I blink repeatedly.
Henrik leans closer and makes sure I’m staring at his lips before he slowly mouths, “I love you, and I’m taking care of you.
” Depleted of energy, I accept his words.
He kisses my lips. When he pulls back, he mouths, “I’m going to get you some things to make you feel better.
” I nod. Who would’ve guessed I’m a master lip reader, and that my gruff, grumpy fisherman is a caretaker?
Henrik is back in minutes with Tylenol and water. But that’s not all. His mouth is pulled into a smirk. What’s he up to? My gaze lingers on the unknown item he’s holding. Is that a sock? My feet aren’t cold. My ears hurt. He smiles as he holds up the weighted sock.
Confused, I ask, “What is that? You aren’t going to knock me out with it, are you?”
He shakes his head and looks to be laughing, but I can’t hear him. He grabs the notepad and scribbles something.
It’s a homemade heating pad. My mom taught me how to make them when I was younger. I already put it in the microwave, and all you do now is press it against your ear and it should help.
I take the meds and then place the homemade heating pad on the pillow. I roll to my side and lay my head on it. Heat warms my ear canal as soon as I come into contact with the rice pillow. The ache in my ear dulls, and I close my eyes.
For the next few hours, Henrik stays with me.
He shifts me every time he replaces the heating pad.
Exhausted, I barely remember it. Around noon, I finally open my eyes, feeling only slightly better.
I look to Henrik, who’s quietly reading a mystery novel.
Looking over the top of the book, he sees me, closes his book, and smiles. “How are you feeling?” he mouths.
I hold up my fingers and show him a pinch.
He motions his hands to ask if I’m hungry or thirsty.
I nod and pretend I’m drinking. He smiles and grabs the notepad.
Do you want a smoothie? It’ll kill two birds—food and drink.
“Please,” I say. He nods and leaves. I close my eyes again and snuggle deeper into his bedding.
A hand gently squeezes my shoulder a few minutes later. Assuming it’s Henrik with the smoothie, I open my eyes and slowly sit up. It’s Peter. “Hi,” I say with a smile.
He’s holding the notepad and hands it to me.
How are you feeling?
I appreciate his concern. He must be a great father. I think over my symptoms for a moment and then write my answer.
Captain Henrik has me using a homemade heating pad—his sock (thankfully clean) filled with rice—and that seems to have helped some. I’m still dizzy when I sit up, and I’m still somewhat nauseous too.
He reads my response and gives me the one-minute finger gesture before disappearing from Henrik’s cabin. He comes back with a giant smile on his face. In his hand is a round metal tin. He hands it over with the notepad.
This should help with the nausea. They’re ginger drops in both peach and pear flavors. My wife swears by them.
“Thank you,” I say before popping one into my mouth. The spice of the ginger hits my tongue and the back of my throat, making my eyes water, nose run, and lips pucker. Peter tilts his head. “They’re spicier than I expected,” I say.
He frowns and mouths, “Sorry.”
I wave my hand at him. “They’re great. I just wasn’t expecting it.”
He drops his shoulders, looking relieved. Again, he scribbles a note.
I better get back to work. Looks like Captain Henrik is taking good care of you.
I smile. “He is.” He nods and gives me a wave before stepping out. Groaning, I scoot myself over to prop myself against the wall. Why is moving so hard when you’re not feeling well? Henrik returns with an orange yogurt smoothie. It smells and looks amazing.
He climbs into bed next to me and then tucks me into his side. Having him close may not make my ears feel better, but it does wonders for my heart. Having to maintain such strict boundaries has been torture, and I’m glad to know in a few days we’ll be back in Kodiak.
He leans over and kisses my forehead, then points to the smoothie. I look up at him and he mouths, “Are you going to try it?”
Taking my first sip, the flavor explodes on my tongue, washing away the last of the ginger drop. Licking my lips, I gather the bit of smoothie that coats the upper one. “Thank you. This is delicious. It tastes just like a Creamsicle.” He smiles widely at me, and my heart skips a beat.
When he rests his massive hand on my thigh, my body reacts. From the point of contact, heat spreads everywhere, warming me completely. I look up at him, and he mouths, “I’m glad you’re getting in some calories.” I take another sip and smile.
Once my smoothie is done, he has me lie down so I can use the heated sock again. Warm and relaxed, I easily fall asleep.
Around dinner time, I wake to find Henrik still with me.
But this time, he’s asleep in a metal folding chair he’s brought in.
His massive frame dwarfs the chair, making it look doll-sized.
His size thirteen feet are propped up against the wall.
That can’t be comfortable. Quietly slipping from his bed, I do my best not to wake my caretaker.
Despite his sleeping position, he looks comfortable.
Checking the hallway, I make sure I’m stable before making my way to the bathroom to empty my screaming bladder.
Once I’ve relieved myself, I move over to my bunk and grab my blanket and book. I’m not tired anymore. Reading until bedtime sounds like a good plan. The blanket is for Henrik, because I know he’ll keep Cody’s rules and not share a bed with me.
Still off balance, I run the tips of my fingers against the walls, trying to center myself. With the rocking of the boat, I don’t need an excuse to fall. When I reach Henrik’s room, I cover him with the blanket before climbing back into his bed.
Hours later, when I’m lost in my book—a new romantic suspense—I’m startled by a shadow hanging over me. Looking up, I notice Henrik. “How are you?” he mouths.
Closing my book, I answer, “My ears are hurting again, and when I got up to go to the bathroom a while ago, I was still dizzy and nauseous. I’ve been sucking on a ginger drop that Peter gave me, and that’s been helpful.”
He nods, and that’s when I notice how tired he looks.
Reaching up, I cup his chin. “How about tonight you sleep here and I’ll go back to my bunk?
” He shakes his head. Instead of speaking, he again relies on motions.
This time, he uses his pointer finger. Wearing a stern look, he points to me and then to his bed.
“Then where are you going to sleep?” I question.
Again, with the finger pointing. This time, he points to himself and then to the chair.
I shake my head. “That’s not acceptable. I can’t take your bed and leave you with a folding chair. Even if it supported you, it isn’t comfortable.”
He crosses his arms against his wide chest, and narrows his eyes. When he aggressively points to himself, then out to the hallway, I’m really confused. “You’re going to sleep in the hallway?”
Frustrated, he shakes his head no. Spinning quickly, he scans the room and grunts. Picking up my blanket he dropped on the floor after he woke up, he finds what he’s looking for. The notepad. Hunched over, he scribbles furiously. When he turns back around, he shoves the pad at me.
You sleep in my bed, and I’ll sleep in yours.
I frown at him.
That’s sweet of you, but if all I’m doing is sleeping, it doesn’t matter where I am. Being the captain, you need to get good rest.
Henrik sits on the edge of the bed with me and tenderly pats my thigh.
Kai and Edgar are acting as co-captains right now. They’re bringing us back to Kodiak so I can be here with you.
I cover his hand with mine and rest my head on his shoulder. “Thank you.” Taking the notepad from him, I write my exact thoughts.
I wish we were in Kodiak now. Snuggled up in your bed. I love you, Henrik.
He shifts his body and faces me. His dark eyes stare into my much lighter ones as he mouths, “Me too.”
Twenty hours later, we finally reach Kodiak. Other than a quick shower, I spent the rest of the time on the Brina curled up in Henrik’s bed, alternately resting my ears on the make-shift heating pad.