29. Landry
CHAPTER 29
landry
My head pounds when I roll over in bed the next morning. At least I don’t have to go into the clinic today. And I’m not on call, since I told the other doctors I was going out of town for Thanksgiving.
Then my tonsils rub together when I try to swallow, and I whimper.
I’m definitely sick.
There was a strep outbreak in Camellia this week, and judging from the imaginary hammer hitting my head and shards of glass lodged in my throat, I’ve picked it up from one of my patients.
I attempt to sit up in bed, but the room immediately spins, and I’m forced to fall back onto my pillow.
I’m still breathing through the dizzy spell when my phone pings on my nightstand. It takes me a second to get to it, despite the short distance. There’s a message from Daisy. She’s letting me know that Rowan’s on his way to pick her up and take her to Baton Rouge to spend Thanksgiving with her family and not to expect her back until later this weekend.
I sigh and rub a hand over my face. I was supposed to bring her there myself, but I suppose she wasn’t in the mood to spend a two-hour car ride with me after our awkward interaction last night. I’m still not sure where I went wrong, but I really upset her this time.
Eh, maybe that’s not the whole truth. I think I know what I said to upset her. I’m just at a loss as to how to fix it or make it up to her. It turns out that Daisy’s much more sensitive about the whole virginity thing than she’s been letting on. She’d joked about it before, so I thought it was fair game. But I was wrong—very wrong.
To top it all off, the whole conversation only started because she’d walked in on me fresh out of the shower. It should have felt uncomfortable, but her reaction to seeing me was entirely too … flattering. It was also a reminder of my responsibility to protect her innocence, at least when it comes to our relationship.
It’s probably for the best that she’s gotten Rowan to bring her home, anyway. My back is starting to ache as much as my head, and Daisy doesn’t need to catch this, too. I’m still thinking over my reply to her when there’s a soft knock at the door.
“Come in,” I rasp, wincing at the pain in my throat again.
“Landry?”
I cough and try again, but my voice only gets worse. I end up having to text her.
She opens the door carefully and keeps her eyes on the ground. “Everything okay?”
“Fine. Just a sore throat,” I strain to get out.
“You don’t sound fine.” She looks up, and her brows draw in closer. “And you look terrible.”
I shake my head, but it makes me feel drunk again, and I have to close my eyes and lean back against the headboard to keep from falling out of bed.
“Do you have a fever?” she asks, her voice filled with concern. I feel her hand on my forehead a second later, and I reach up to push it away.
“No, stay back. I’m contagious,” I force out.
“Oh gosh, you’re burning up,” she exclaims. “Have you taken anything yet?”
I shake my head and realize I’m shivering. She clicks her tongue in annoyance and stomps out of the room, and I close my eyes again. Just before I drift off to sleep, the light flickers on. I flinch, and the movement makes my whole body ache.
“Come on, sit up and take this. We have to break your fever,” Daisy says. Her hands are on my shoulders, pulling me up to a seated position, but her voice sounds distant.
“Just let me sleep,” I whine.
There’s a beeping sound before she redoubles her efforts. “Your temp is almost a hundred and three degrees. If you can’t man up and take this ibuprofen, I’ll have to replace these blankets with ice packs.”
My teeth chatter when I whimper in protest.
“Then get your bubble butt up and take these meds right now,” she demands.
I’d smile at that if I wasn’t struggling just to comply. I barely manage to lift my head as she puts the pills in my mouth and brings a cup to my lips. It takes all I have to swallow it down.
“I know you’re already cold, but you need this,” she says and drapes a damp cloth over my forehead.
“Thank you, Daisy,” I whisper. And it’s the last thing I remember before I’m out again.
The next time I wake up, I find myself drenched in sweat. I groan and push the dampened sheets away, noticing the smell of eucalyptus in the air. My head’s still thick, but it’s not as bad as before, and my muscles are weak but less achy.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Daisy asks before I open my eyes.
I peek through a small crack in my eyelids to find her sitting at the edge of my bed. “Better,” I wheeze. “What are you still doing here?”
She lifts the washcloth from my head and replaces it with a fresh one. “I couldn’t just leave you here to die,” she replies dryly. “We did say ‘in sickness and in health.’ ”
“I wasn’t …” I stop and cover my mouth to cough before I continue. My throat still feels horrible. “I’m not dying. It’s probably just strep throat. And the last thing you need is to catch it.”
“You were so pitiful earlier that I considered calling someone to help me get you to the emergency room.”
I roll my eyes, but even that movement hurts. “It was just a fever. Obviously, the ibuprofen did its job.”
“When’s the last time you ate or drank anything, besides sipping water with your medicine?”
“That depends. How long have I been asleep?”
She frowns. “You took that first dose around nine in the morning. I woke you up at eleven to give you some acetaminophen because you were still running a temp. It’s nearly one in the afternoon now.”
“Well, shit,” I mutter. “I guess I haven’t had anything since yesterday.”
“You’re probably dehydrated. And I’m guessing you need antibiotics.”
I sigh. “Yeah. But it’s Thanksgiving. Pharmacy’s closed.”
“What about an injection? Can you get one from the clinic?”
“It can wait until tomorrow.”
She eyes me skeptically. “No, it can’t. What if I get sick, too?”
She’s right, even though I suspect she’s using herself as bait. She knows I won’t risk letting her spike a fever because it could cause a seizure.
I swallow and cringe. “I’ll get dressed and go in a minute.”
“You can’t drive yourself. You’re barely past the point of delirium, and you’re as pale as a ghost.”
“I can’t send someone else for it. I have to go myself,” I say, coughing again.
“Just let me drive this time,” she suggests. “I’m only a couple of months away from being cleared again.”
“It’s not worth the risk.”
“Yes, it is,” she holds.
“What about Rowan?”
“I told him not to come after I saw you this morning,” she admits quietly. “I couldn’t leave you like that.”
“But if I weren’t sick, you’d have left my ass behind, right?” I ask her, forcing a smile, and she smirks back at me. I lift my arm to adjust my position and realize how terrible I smell. I groan and scrunch my nose. “You could have at least given me a sponge bath while I was out. It’s not like you haven’t seen it all, anyway. And I bet it would have made for an interesting dream.”
She doesn’t seem to think it’s as funny as I hoped though. “Get dressed. The only thing I’m looking forward to giving you today is a shot,” she says, standing and averting her eyes.
I laugh softly, but she ignores me and moves to check the essential oil diffuser she must have brought in before she leaves me alone in the room.
I exhale and run my hand through my sticky hair. She’s still upset with me from before, but she stayed behind to take care of me anyway. I guess she felt like she owed it to me after the way I’ve been taking care of her.
I move slowly as I climb out of bed and slip into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. I can’t imagine it’s cold enough outside for a jacket, and it isn’t worth the energy to find one.
“Ready?” she asks when I stagger into the kitchen to meet her, and I nod. “Here.” She hands me a bottle of cloudy water. “Drink that first.”
I eye her skeptically. “What’s in it?”
“Electrolyte mix. It helps me stay hydrated and keeps the seizures away.”
“Right. Thanks.” I unscrew the cap and gulp down two-thirds of the bottle, stopping to catch my breath before going for the last bit. She stares me down and scrutinizes me the whole time, and I’m not sure how to feel about it. Being told what to do is new for me. But … I also like seeing this side of her. I don’t think I mind being bossed around by Daisy as much as I should.
I squeeze my eyes closed, bracing myself to swallow the last of the drink, and when they open again, her expression softens. “What’s next, Doc?” I ask her, drawing a hint of a smile from her this time.
She dangles a set of car keys in the air. “Now I get to chauffeur you around for a change.”
“Can’t we just ask my sister to take me?”
“And expose them and therefore the twins to whatever this is? Not to mention, I’d have to tell her why I can’t just drive you myself.”
“Shit. You’re right,” I concede. “Wait, I never let them know I wasn’t going to make it to dinner today. Although I’d honestly be surprised if they cared.”
She clicks her tongue. “Of course they care. I’ve been texting Loren about you since this morning, and your mom called your phone to check on you a couple of hours ago. I figured you wouldn’t mind if I answered it and gave her an update.”
“Oh,” is all I say.
“Well, allons ,” she calls, gesturing to the front door. “Let’s go, kid.”
I smirk and follow orders, though I nearly change my mind as soon as I step outside and face the sunlight. I groan loudly, but Daisy only rolls her eyes and urges me on to her little green Volkswagen.
“I can barely even fit in this thing,” I complain as I fold into the car.
“Oh, get over it. You don’t hear me griping about having to hike up my dresses to climb into your Jeep, do you?”
“I guess not,” I say quietly and ignore the image of her pulling up her skirt to reveal her legs as I flip down the visor. She hands me a pair of girly sunglasses, but I don’t hesitate to put them on. I catch her holding back a grin as she slips on another pair of pastel purple shades before she cranks her car and pulls out of the driveway.
“Daisy, if you?—”
“I’ll pull over if anything feels off,” she interrupts me and reaches out to raise the volume on the radio. Then she thinks better of it, probably because of my head, and turns down the John Denver song.
“You’ve missed this, haven’t you?” I ask after a while. “Take a right at the red light.”
“Yes, I have. And I know where I’m going, thank you.”
“For what it’s worth, you’re a surprisingly good driver for someone who hasn’t been behind the wheel in a few months. Then again, you’re driving a glorified Barbie car, so …”
She reaches out to backhand my arm, and I chuckle until it turns into a cough. Then her back tire scrapes the curb on the turn into the parking lot before she pulls up too far and catches her bumper on the cement divider. She winces adorably each time we hear the grating of plastic over concrete, and I stifle my laughter.
“How am I supposed to park straight with you watching me like that?” she poses.
“I’m not watching you,” I reply, amused. “I’m just being a passenger.”
She furrows her brow, but she’s still smiling. “You haven’t stopped staring at me since we left the house. I know you’re worried, but I told you, I’m fine. That six-month rule is just an arbitrary line in the sand, isn’t it?”
I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Sorry. I guess I didn’t realize I was doing that.”
“Come on.” Her cheeks darken, and she looks away. “We breaking into this joint or what?”
I laugh again before getting myself out of the car and leading her around to the staff entrance. I punch in a code and open the door for her before we slip into a supply closet to grab a strep test.
“Think you can stomach it?” I ask, holding up a long cotton swab and a tongue depressor.
She rolls her eyes and takes them both. “I spent half my childhood as a patient, getting poked and prodded, and the other half growing up on a farm. I’ve stuck worse things into grosser orifices, especially of the non-human variety.”
I nod approvingly and sit on the nearest table before tilting my head back and thrusting my tongue out. She doesn’t hesitate to go in and rub the swab over my tonsils, and I gag exaggeratedly, holding my throat when she backs away.
“Damn, woman,” I spit out between coughs. “That’s the wrong orifice.”
“You said to swab your throat, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but you didn’t have to go deep enough to touch my asshole from this end.”
She glares at me before she follows my instructions to set up the test. “You should probably be wearing a mask and gloves,” I say after a while. “Especially if you’re going to give me an injection.”
“I’m sure it’s too late for that. Might as well just have my prescription on standby for when I start showing symptoms,” she replies with a shrug as she sits on the table across from me.
“You might not catch it, since it’s not like we’ve been sharing drinks or swapping spit. But I’m not just talking about the strep cooties.”
She crosses her arms over her middle. “Shouldn’t you have told me about your other cooties before we got married?”
I huff. “I’ve never actually had an STD, for the record. I just meant that you should always wear gloves around sharp objects in a medical setting. You never know what’s lurking around.”
“Oh.” She relaxes a little.
“I didn’t think that would matter, anyway, since we don’t have the kind of marriage in which we could actually trade STDs.”
Her eyes dart down again, and a lightbulb goes off above my head. I think I’m starting to understand how I might make up for hurting her last night.
“There’s always the possibility of a blood-borne pathogen transfer during a kitchen accident. In fact, I was pretty close to drawing blood the day you moved in,” she mumbles.
“This is true.” I watch her expression carefully as I continue. “Or in the unfortunate event we’d run into one another outside the shower again but neither of us has a warm towel handy.”
Her face reddens again. “We can’t have that, can we?” she remarks, but instead of sounding sarcastic, her tone seems … sad.
I replay yesterday’s conversation in my head again, especially the last part when I told her that we have the perfect relationship because we don’t have to bother with anything physical.
I really am the world’s biggest idiot.
Because even though I meant what I said and have absolutely no intention of changing our dynamic, Daisy obviously wants more. Or at least she thinks she wants more. My guess is that she’s just longing for the romantic aspect and not necessarily for me, although I could see how she might mistake our mutual feelings of fondness, trust, and familiarity for something deeper. Hell, at this point, if I weren’t so vigilant about not letting my thoughts of Daisy drift into more-than-friends territory, I’m sure I’d be tempted to?—
The timer beeps just then, letting us know the test is ready to read. I watch as she clears her throat and hops down from the table.
“Two lines means it’s positive, even if the test line is faint,” I volunteer as she studies the strip.
“Well, congratulations. It’s a boy,” she replies, holding it up so I can see the positive result.
“Figured.” I rise to my feet to track down a syringe and a vial of penicillin. I attempt to draw up the medicine myself, but my hands are trembling, and I realize I’ve gotten weaker since we arrived.
“You’ll have to do it,” I say on a sigh, handing it over to her. “Have you ever given an injection before?”
“No, but I’ve been on the receiving end of plenty, so I’m sure I’ll manage. Do I really need gloves?” she asks as she takes the vial and syringe.
“Nah. This would probably kill most cooties of the STD-variety, anyway.”
She laughs and waits for my instructions to draw up the correct dosage while I find an alcohol pad, then I explain how to administer the shot. I’m about to reach for my sleeve when another stupid impulsive idea overtakes my already foggy brain, and I turn to face the table instead.
“You’ll need to wipe the injection site with that alcohol pad first,” I turn to instruct over my shoulder.
She stares at me in confusion. “Okay. Don’t I need your arm for that?”
I shake my head, barely holding back a smile. “Not enough fatty tissue there. Since you’re an amateur, it’s probably best if you hit me with it from behind.”
Daisy rears back and blinks a few times. “Y-you want me to put in your butt?”
“More or less.” I reach behind me to lift my shirt and pull my pants down on one side. Then I take the alcohol pad and wipe the upper edge of my left cheek. “See where I’m wiping? You can stick me right there, where my hip ends and my ass cheek begins.”
“Mm-hmm,” she squeaks, and I watch with amusement as her eyes run over the area I’ve exposed.
“Daisy?”
“Yeah, I’m, um … can you show me again, just in case? I feel like this is too important to mess up.”
I chuckle softly and reach back to grab her free hand, then press her index finger into the right spot. “Right about there. Just disinfect the site again before you administer the injection, okay?”
She nods quickly, her eyes still glued to the space. “Got it.”
I lean farther down, planting my elbows on the table. Although I’m not sure what I’m trying to accomplish with my tactics besides either grossing her out or giving her a small thrill. “This any better?”
“Uh, yeah, that’s … that works.”
She blinks and shakes her head with her fingertip still pinned to my butt cheek, and it takes all I have not to laugh again. Eventually, she reaches for the alcohol and moves her finger to clean the spot, then she inhales deeply behind me. “Ready?”
“Yeah, go for it. Make sure you take all your resentment out while you’re at it—” But I interrupt myself to blurt out a four-letter word when Daisy literally jams the needle between my glute muscles.
“Whoopsie,” she intones as she pulls the plunger back and pushes it down. “Didn’t mean to stick you that hard, but I wanted to make sure it took.” Then she presses a bit of gauze to the injection site to keep the medicine from working its way out, just like a pro.
“Sorry for the language, but I think you might have hit bone.”
“Oh, no.” She giggles. “Plenty of fatty tissue here, like you said.”
I scoff, and she replaces the gauze with a Band-Aid. “For the record, you lied to me before,” she continues, pulling my boxers and my pants up one at a time and making me gulp hard, which fortunately makes my throat hurt enough to distract me from the feeling of her hands on my skin. In fact, it’s not until this exact moment that I realize I’m literally bent over the table, baring my ass for her. We’re on a whole different level of trust now.
“Wait, I didn’t … when did I lie?” And now I’m the one who’s flustered.
“You said I wouldn’t like the view from back here because it was too hairy,” she reminds me, leaning in to whisper next to my ear.
I swallow again and wince at the pain. “If you think that’s completely hairless, then you need to get your eyes checked, Blondie.”
“It’s not as bad as you made it sound, though,” she replies before turning and backing away, leaving me to either force my tonsils together on purpose or start reciting a list of common streptococcus infection sites.
“I know you don’t want a sucker, so am I supposed to give you a sticker now?”
“What?” I ask, rising from my position at the table.
“You were a big boy today, Landry. You deserve a reward,” she adds with a smirk, and I groan.