Page 38 of Reuniting with Lucy

A day later, she woke sweating and shaking. Her temperature clocked in at 101. When she called work to let them know she wouldn’t be in, she asked them to do an extra careful job of sanitizing everything—especially the booth where the Three Musketeers sat. The three of them spent so much time together, Gene and Walter would come down with it too. She’d have to ask one of her sisters to take care of them.

After spending the morning in bed, vacillating between burning up and freezing, she heard a knock at the door. Too weak to get up, she ignored it. Ten minutes later, Lizzie texted to say she’d given her key to Jack, and he was on his way to check on her. Five minutes after that, the deadbolt clicked.

“Lucy,” he called out softly. “It’s Jack.” He tapped on her bedroom door before pushing it open.

She pulled the covers over her head. “Don’t look at me,” she said, her voice muffled by the comforter. “I’m hideous.”

He chuckled and sat next to her on the bed. “I’m sure you look fine,” he said, laying a hand on her hip. “I didn’t come for a beauty show. I came to see if you were all right and if you needed anything. How ya feeling?”

She peeked out from under the blanket, and he gasped and jumped back. “Ack!”

Despite her misery, she laughed. “I’m not only ugly, I’m probably super contagious. Don’t breathe my air,” she said, waving her hand between them. “I’m serious. I was only with Archie for a second. Did the other two catch it?”

“Yes. Your mother’s making a big batch of soup, and your sisters are working out who will deliver to who. I’m sure you’re on the list.”

She smiled. Even as a grown-ass adult, the thought of her mother caring for her was a comfort.

“Can I get you something? You hungry?” Jack stroked her sweaty, messy hair. She was too sick to worry about how greasy it might be.

She plopped back down on the pillow. “No, but I could use another dose of Tylenol. Could you bring me the bottle and a glass of water? Might as well make use of you while you’re here,” she said.

“Do you have a fever?” he asked, putting his hand on her forehead.

“Last I checked, it was a hundred and one. I’ve been swinging between feeling like an iceberg and an inferno all morning. The medicine doesn’t seem to do anything. I also have a cough and a headache.”

“Sounds like what Gene and Walter were complaining about. The good news is, Archie feels better, so hopefully, this won’t last long.”

“Thank goodness. Emma’s bachelorette party is this weekend. I have to be better before that. You were at The Drip this morning?”

“Yeah. I went in to say hi, and they told me you were sick. I came over and knocked, but you didn’t answer, so I called Lizzie.”

“Sorry. I heard you, but was too tired to get up.”

“It’s okay. I’m going to get your medicine and then put you to sleep.”

After she took the pills, he laid down next to her and wrapped her in his arms. Even as miserable as she was, it soothed her.

He’d left her to go back to work for a few hours but returned at dinnertime with soup. Her mom’s magical chickeny elixir fixed her right up, and by the next morning, she was better. After a shower, she felt like a new woman, but came out of the bathroom to find Jack curled up into a ball, shivering.

“I warned you not to breathe my air,” she said.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, attempting to sit. He swayed and grabbed his head before laying back down. “Maybe I’ll stay here for a bit after all.”

“Oh, Jack. I’m sorry I got you sick.”

“Could have been one of the three,” he said. “Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?”

“It’s you.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he said, closing his eyes.

“Just in time to take care of you. Lay down. I’ll get you some medicine and orange juice.”

“Do I have to turn in my man card if I ask for another blanket?”

She laughed. “Of course not. Stay there.” She piled up the extra blankets she’d used to keep warm, burying him under two feet of fleece.

“Thanks, Luce,” he mumbled before falling back to sleep.

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