Page 27 of Chasing Storm
“Better today, thanks. It really hit me hard.”
“I know. Sometimes it happens, outside factors and all that. Have you been under any stress lately?”
“Not really,” I muse. “Unless you count the Angela and work thing.”
And JP and Josh.
“Okay, well, hopefully you will bounce back soon.”
“Okay. See you in a bit.” We hang up, and I roll over to crawl into in the shower. Ten minutes later, I’m feeling slightly more refreshed and remarkably more normal.
Once dressed in a fresh set of jammies, I strip the bed and dump the sweat-covered sheets in the washbag to take to the laundrette. That’s the only downside to this place, but the laundrette is only on the next block, so generally speaking, it’s not that big of a deal. I usually handwash my delicates anyway, so I never run short of my underwear.
Soon, it’s time for my mum to show up, and she does on time, having probably been standing outside on the pavement for the last fifteen minutes, making sure to give me the full hour. Early bird down to a tee.
I let her up, and we hug quickly.
“You look worse than I expected,” she says.
“Gee, thanks, mother. Very supportive of you.”
She snickers. “You know I speak the truth. Here.” She thrusts a chemist’s paper bag at me. Opening it, I find vitamins and tonics to boost my immune system. Nothing like having a doctor as a mother. No chicken soup here.
“Thanks. Here,” I say, crossing over to the side table and placing the bag down before I pick up the book and the black credit card.
She takes the book but frowns at the card. “Keep it, please. Just so I know you have something, anything, if you need it. You don’t have to use it, but I need to know you are taken care of.”
“That’s precisely my issue with this. I want to take care of myself.”
“Please?”
I figure it’s probably easier just to give in. I don’t feel as exhausted anymore, but I’m not a hundred per cent yet, and picking my battles is the best way forward for a few days.
“Fine,” I grouse and slip it into my purse. I don’t really want to leave it lying around in case I’m burgled or whatever. “Can you stay for a cuppa?”
“I need to get going,” she says. “But we can catch up at the weekend?”
“Okay.”
She waves the book at me, and then she is gone, leaving me alone for a few moments before my phone rings again.
“Cass,” I say when I answer. “What’s up?”
“You okay? I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’m getting better. Spring flu sucks.”
“Hmm,” she murmurs. “You sound better than you did the other day.”
“Thanks, I guess. You okay? You stayed here the other night. I don’t want you to get this as well.”
“I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”
“Good.”
“Okay, well, I’d better go. I was just checking on you.”
“Thanks, babes. I’m good. Hopefully, be back at work the day after tomorrow.”
