7. Amberlee
Chapter 7
Amberlee
I wake the next morning, burning up. My throat is killing me and I feel like I'm about to die. It hurts to move, my body aches all over. Crawling out of bed, I take one of the throw blankets laying over the back of the chair in the bedroom and wrap it around me before heading to the kitchen. I'm dying of thirst and hope something cold can cool me off.
Stumbling into the kitchen, Maddy stands at the sink, loading the dishwasher. Didn't they do that last night? It's at that moment I break out into a coughing fit and my throat screams in pain.
“Well, look who finally woke up,” she says as she turns around to face me, stopping dead in her tracks. “Oh, shit. Amberlee, you look like crap.”
“I feel like it too,” I softly croak, the few words killing my throat.
Something is wrong. I've caught the flu or something. All I know is I feel like death won over and it's given me a one-way ticket to hell.
“Come on, I'm taking you to urgent care.”
“I can't. I haven't started the new job yet, so my health benefits haven't kicked in,” I remind her. Yeah, I could pay for it. I have money saved. But it's probably nothing some sleep and cough syrup won't cure.
“Do I look like I care? We'll take care of it if it's a money issue. Now go get dressed. I'm going to call Sally next door and see if I can drop RJ off until we're done.”
I know I won’t win with her, nor do I want to hear her mom voice, so I turn around and go back to the bedroom. I pull on a pair of shorts, bra, and a tank top. Then wrap the blanket back around me. Turning around, I slowly make my way to the bathroom and brush my teeth and hair. Once I’m done, I pick up my purse and head to the living room, where RJ is already waiting with a backpack in hand.
“Mommy says you're sick, so stay far away,” he tells me. I know he didn't mean to, but damn, he came off bitchy. I shouldn’t be thinking that word about a kid, no he came off like a smart alec. “Maybe you should wear one of them face masks.”
“You're right, RJ. Maybe I should.” That's all he needs to hear before he runs down the hallway, returning a minute later with one, handing it to me.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
“Okay, let's go,” Maddy announces as she holds a small bag in her hand along with her keys.
It only takes a moment to get RJ over to Sally, who lives two houses down, and then we're off to the urgent care. Crossing my fingers, I say a little prayer that they're not busy. Sitting in a waiting room full of sick people with a four-month pregnant woman with twins isn't what I'd call the highlight of my day. What I wanted to be doing was unpacking my apartment, making it more my taste.
As we drive, Maddy takes the time to point out different spots. Sadly, I’m barely paying attention, but make sure to give an okay occasionally, so she thinks I am. The more we ride, the worse I feel, and the harder it is to even swallow. I'm about to ask her how much farther we have to go when she makes a right turn into the urgent care parking lot and pulls into a vacant spot right in front of the door.
“You know you can take that mask off. It was sweet of you to put it on for RJ's sake.”
“No, I think I'll keep it on. Just in case what I have may be contagious, I don't want you catching it.”
“Okay then, let's get inside and see what's going on with you.”
We both get out of the car, moving at a snail's pace. We really are a pair.
It doesn't take long to get checked in and called back to triage. A hundred and three fever, holy shit. She sends me back out to the lobby to wait for a room to open. It seems like we have been waiting for hours, but I know it’s only been about thirty to forty-five minutes so far. The whole time Maddy is busily going through all her travel sites looking for the best deal for our trip.
Finally, I'm called to the back and Maddy follows close behind me. We step inside the small treatment room and I take a seat on the bed, while Maddy sits in the chair.
“Hi there, Amberlee. I'm just going to do a quick recheck on your vitals before the doctor comes in and we’re going to do a throat swab, since you're complaining about throat pain.”
“Okay.” It's all the energy I have to say.
She goes about checking everything and my fever has risen slightly as well as my blood pressure is high. The nurse, I can't even remember her name, and for some reason Ratchet is the only thing I can think of, moves over to the counter and opens the drawer, pulling out the supplies to swab my throat.
“Okay, open wide. This may be uncomfortable, but I'll try to be as quick as possible.”
I nod and do as she says. Fuck, my throat hurts.
“Okay, the doctor will be with you shortly.” She smiles sweetly before stepping out of the room and I lie back on the bed. I just want to sleep.
The doctor comes in about ten minutes later. He's an older man, with bifocal glasses and a round belly. He has a friendly smile, reminding you of a favorite grandfather, nothing about his appearance sets off alarms for me as he pulls up the rolling chair next to where I'm sitting.
“Good afternoon, Miss Michaels. It seems you have a severe case of strep throat along with being extremely dehydrated. We're going to start you on some IV fluids so we can get that blood pressure down and some IV antibiotics. I'll send you home with a prescription and you should feel better in a few days. I need you to make sure you take the medicine until it's all gone, even if your throat starts feeling better.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, the nurse will be in shortly to get it started.” He stands, shakes my hand, then leaves the room.
A few minutes later, the nurse comes back and starts the line, and I lie back and drift off to sleep.
My heavy eyes slowly open as I try to focus on the room I'm in. It takes me a minute to remember where I am—in the spare room at my brother's house. The last thing I remember was being discharged and getting in Maddy's car. I’m not sure how I got in here. I look down to see I'm still in the same clothes and exhale a sigh of relief.
I go to sit up, but I don't have the strength and let out a groan.
Heavy footsteps sound in the hallway, just before my bedroom door flies open. A frazzled Ryan stands there looking back at me as he flips the lights on, causing me to flinch as the bright light assaults my eyes.
“How are you feeling?” he blurts as he comes in and sits down on the bed beside me.
“Like death. And blind since someone felt the need to turn the lights on without warning.”
“Well, it seems you still have your horrible sense of humor. Hold tight. I'm going to get you some water and your antibiotics. It's time for you to take it, anyway.” He rushes out of the room, leaving the lights on.
He's back just as quickly as he left, a glass of water in his hand and a pill bottle. He hands me the water and I slowly take sips from it, the coolness refreshing against my throat. Opening the bottle, he pulls out a pill and hands it to me. I put it in my mouth and take another sip, swallowing it. I feel it the entire way as it scratches against my throat.
“How did I get inside?”
“I carried you. But I drew the line at undressing you.”
“Thank goodness for that. What time is it?”
“It's almost one in the morning. Now go back to bed.” He kisses my forehead and heads to the door, looking over his shoulder to make sure I'm lying down. Once he knows I've followed his orders, he switches the lights off and shuts the door.
Snuggling deeper under the blankets, I close my eyes and drift back off to sleep.
It's three days later when I finally start feeling better. I was almost positive the doctor had misdiagnosed me but when I woke up this morning and could swallow without pain and didn't feel like someone had run me over, I changed my mind. Maybe he did know what he was talking about.
I stayed in bed the whole time, but I knew Jeremiah had been over a couple times to visit and check on me. His sex-on-a-stick voice danced throughout the house, but every time Maddy or Ryan came to my room to check on me, I pretended I was asleep. And I kept up that game until he left. As much as I wanted to see him, I also didn't.
But now that I'm feeling better, it's time to move into my apartment. I still have so much work to do, and I need to go to the grocery store so that I'm not always encroaching on Ryan's family. They need time together, without me always having to be factored into their plans.
I head to the bathroom, shower, and brush my teeth before packing all my toiletries. Stepping back into the bedroom, I put on a sundress and go about packing up all my clothes that somehow have gotten strewn all over the room. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, I have them all picked up and stuffed into my bag.
Lastly, I strip the bed, not wanting anyone else to touch my bedding. There's no telling how many germs are crawling around, waiting to infect their next host. I bundle them in my arms and head for the laundry room. The bedding is going straight into the washing machine.
“What are you doing?” RJ asks me as he steps around the corner, a banana in his hand.
“Putting the bedsheets in the washer. Why?”
“Just curious. Are you feeling better?” he asks.
“I am.”
Content with my answer, he turns and runs away, his feet pounding against the tile floor as he goes.
“I could have done that,” Maddy tells me, as she drops a handful of white clothing into a hamper that, funnily enough, is labeled white. Taking a second look, I see they're all labeled. Colored. Red. Towel. Sheets. Man, she is organized. A little too OCD for me. If I wash the towels separately from my clothing, I consider them sorted.
“I know, but I wanted to. I'm going to head over to my apartment and get settled in.” She smiles and her eyes get a little watery. “I'll just be right at the end of the driveway. You can come and visit me anytime you want. I mean, it is yours.”
“You're right, it is. And I have the key, so you can't lock me out,” she jokes as she wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “I'm going to miss you, though. It's not the same as having you two doors down from me. I'm so happy you're here.”
“Me too,” I say back to her and I am.
Once we're finished with our bonding moment, I go back to the guest room to get my bags, purse, and keys and head out of the house to my new apartment. As I'm climbing the steps with the bags, I wish I had an elevator. Carrying groceries and laundry up these stairs is going to be a pain in the ass.