Page 41 of Loved By Tandy

A cat jumps into the front window, and I’m not sure if it’s Chip or Dale. It’s hard to tell those two apart.

I ring the bell and listen for movement inside. Even though I have a key, I hesitate to use it. It’s early, and if she’s not expecting me, barging in could make things awkward.

The kitty is now meowing in the window, and my concern ramps up.

“Tandy.” I rap on the door. “Open up, honey. I brought donuts.”

There is a loud thump, followed by footsteps and coughing.

Tandy says, “Coming.” But she sounds off.

As soon as the knob turns, I push the door open, and Tandy tumbles backward. The donuts fall as I reach out to catch her. “Whoa there.” It doesn’t take a doctor to see that she is sick. “You need to lie down. Bed or couch?”

She narrows her eyes and stares at me. “I am not going to bed with you, Matthew. If you didn’t like me before, there is no way you’ll like what’s under my clothes now.”

Fevers make her honest, apparently. But now is not the time to discuss what she said.

“Couch it is.” I guide her to the ugly sofa and ease her onto the cushion. “Stretch out. I’ll go grab you a pillow.”

When I step away from the couch, the cats run into the kitchen. They probably need food, but they’ll have to wait. I need to get Tandy settled first. There are medicines on her nightstand, all over-the-counter stuff. But there’s no indication of when she last took anything.

I grab two pillows and hurry back out to the living room.

Tandy is curled up on the floor, and there is a cat sitting on her hip. The other is staring Tandy in the face and meowing.

As I lean down to lift the cat off her, Tandy coughs, which startles the tabby. So I use that moment to lure the cats away from her. I tap my leg as I walk to the kitchen. That’s all the convincing these cats need to follow me. I fill the food bowls and make sure they have fresh water. Now that their needs are met, I can focus on Tandy without their interference.

She’s still curled up on the floor and turns her head to look up at me. “Did you say donuts?”

“Yes, and I should grab them off the porch. And maybe close the front door.”

Her eyes widen, and she pushes up. “My cats. Did you let them out? They can’t be outside.” Sitting up, she blinks. “Please find them.”

I set the donut box aside and kneel beside Tandy. “Chip and Dale are in the kitchen, eating their breakfast. They did not get out. Now, let’s get you on the couch. It’ll be much more comfortable than the floor.”

She nods, then starts coughing. “I don’t feel good. And I blame the stupid shoppers who wouldn’t cover their mouths.”

“Me too. Come on. Put your arms around my neck.”

Shaking her head, she rolls onto all fours. “You can’t lift me, Matthew. I’m too heavy.”

“No reason for jabs about my lack of strength. I’m trying to help.” I hold out my hand.

She waves me off, then climbs up onto the couch. “I can do it.”

I stay by her side, ready in case she starts to topple. And once she’s curled up on the couch, I make sure the pillows are in the right spot, then cover her with a blanket.

“Thank you, Matthew. You don’t have to stay. Just give me a donut, and I’ll be fine.”

“Hogwash. I’m not leaving.” I help her sit up and hand her a donut. “Want something to drink?”

“Just water. But you can make yourself coffee. You know where everything is.” She hands me the half-eaten donut. “I’m done.”

I tuck the blanket around her, then head to the kitchen and brew a pot of coffee. With the Shakespearean insults mug full of coffee, I ease onto the floor beside the couch. My task today is to be here when and if she needs anything.

Tandy runs her fingers through my hair. “You might get sick if you stay.” She sounds barely awake.

“A risk I’m willing to take. When did you last have medicine?”

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