Heal Me

by Grady, D. R.

  “Where’d these come from?”

  “They’re my dad’s or a brother’s, I can’t remember which. You’ll be more comfortable in them than your pants,” McCully answered. Owen just nodded and took the bag and himself off to the shower.

  Jenna remade her bed with fresh sheets, having showered before McCully arrived. She tumbled back into the bed, and was still cognizant enough to hear Owen’s groan of appreciation when he returned to the bed.

  “Thought we deserved fresh sheets,” she mumbled into his chest.

  “We did,” he agreed, his lips in her hair. She was happy the tresses were freshly washed.

  McCully started hacking and sneezing and Owen leaned over Jenna to check on her. His partner glared at him from her cot.

  “This is your fault,” she wheezed, reaching for yet another tissue.

  Jenna pushed him back on the bed and leaned over him to retrieve the packet of pills on the table beside him. She lifted a bottle of water from the stash they’d collected earlier and handed both to McCully.

  “Take two of these,” Jenna croaked.

  “Okay,” McCully croaked back.

  The three of them settled down and went to sleep. Periodically, Jenna felt Owen awaken and check on her before leaning over her to check on his sleeping partner. Then he’d tug Jenna closer and sleep again. Her fever broke around six p.m. that night, but her two companions’ remained. She woke both of them to feed them more pills and thought about soup, but like them, she still didn’t have much energy.

  When Emmy called around seven that evening and heard of their plight, she immediately hung up the phone, her resolve still echoing in Jenna’s ear.

  “Brace yourselves,” Jenna warned when, ten minutes later, she heard the lock give on the front door.

  “Why?” O’Maley asked hoarsely, moving restlessly on the bed.

  “The cavalry is here.”

  Two seconds later, they heard quick footsteps on the stairs and all three turned to stare at the doorway. Emmy Fields didn’t exactly fill the space, and she didn’t remain there long enough for any of them to think of what exactly she did for the frame. She bustled into the room, Damon behind her and surveyed them.

  Her eyes alighted on the nearly empty bag of shortbread cookies she had sent over and her brow soared. “That’s all you’ve eaten today?” she demanded of them.

  All three solemnly nodded.

  Emmy muttered something before she turned to her husband and began rapping out orders with all the skill of a pre-school director. “Set the basket down here, Damon. Find the thermometer and start taking temperatures. I’ll get the food ready.”

  “You’re both going to get sick,” Jenna protested.

  Damon glanced fondly at his wife. “Like that mattered.”

  “Owen and McCully both have fevers, but mine broke,” Jenna explained, still not believing that awful speaking voice was hers.

  “Like illness is going to bother Emmy,” Damon replied.

  “Pregnant ladies should not be in sickrooms,” Jenna said as firmly as her voice would allow.

  All movement in the room stopped as four sets of eyes turned on her.

  “Pregnant ladies?” Owen choked out, his green eyes swinging from Jenna to McCully to Emmy.

  “If I’m not mistaken, Emmy’s pregnant, probably about fourteen weeks along now. Haven’t you gone to a doctor yet?” she reprimanded her sister-in-law and best friend.

  “Yes, I was there yesterday. They took blood, and my doctor feels very strongly that I am pregnant, but I couldn’t let the three of you not eat,” she stated firmly, carrying a tray piled high with some things that smelled wonderful.

  “How did you guess Emmy was pregnant?” Damon asked suspiciously.

  “You wouldn’t know it to see me now, but I am a doctor. When you told me about Emmy’s reaction to your normal brand of toothpaste, and how she’s throwing up so much, and doesn’t care for the smell of coffee any longer, I began to wonder. Then she let slip some of the things she’s been eating, and I knew.”

  “You found out about the pickle, mustard, and pineapple sandwiches, didn’t you?” Emmy asked with an embarrassed smile.

  Damon started and swung around to his wife. “I didn’t know about those.”

  McCully groaned. “Eeewwww!” Damon and Owen both nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, that’s pretty much what confirmed my suspicions.” Jenna sent a commiserating look to McCully.

  She watched with interest as Emmy handed a bowl of soup and some crackers to Owen, who accepted the fare with enthusiasm. Even with a fever, the man apparently enjoyed food.

  McCully was no less eager when Emmy handed her a bowl. Jenna managed to swallow some of Emmy’s excellent concoction. She noticed chicken, carrots, celery, spinach, and pasta all intermingled with fragrant spices floating in the bowl. The crackers were delicious, as was the homemade bread Emmy dug from the basket.

  She also produced several bottles of sports drink for them, and watched each of them consume the amount she felt they needed. Jenna grinned at her friend. “We’re too sick to protest, you know.”

  “That makes you ideal patients,” Damon stated emphatically.

  Owen handed back his bowl, slumped down on the bed and was asleep in moments. Jenna put out a hand to check his temperature again, and upon feeling his burning brow, nudged him awake long enough to convince him to take more pills. He acquiesced, but only because he probably didn’t feel like arguing. She also made McCully take more medicine and since Emmy threatened to toss some down her throat, Jenna also willingly swallowed them.

  Damon and Emmy collected bowls, silverware, and glasses, packed them back into their picnic basket, and promised they’d return in the morning before leaving. Owen nor McCully noticed their departure. Jenna eased onto the bed and rolled until she bumped against Owen. He tugged her close and she fell asleep.

  They slept until the next morning when Owen’s phone shrilled into the quiet room. Groping along the nightstand, he didn’t even bother to open his eyes to locate the noisy device.

  “O’Maley,” he rasped into the phone. Jenna figured the caller must have mentioned that he sounded horrible by his answer.

  “Feel that way, too,” he said before he started coughing. Jenna had sincerely hoped he wouldn’t have the coughing to contend with. He soon caught his breath and apologized to his caller. Watching him, Jenna saw that the spasms had taken their toll. She leaned over him for the sports drink Emmy and Damon had left and handed the bottle to him. He accepted gratefully and slugged down a third of the contents while listening to his caller.

  “She’s right here, Chief, just a minute,” he said and handed the phone to McCully. She glared at him before accepting the phone.

  “No, I don’t feel well,” she agreed, her voice sounding as awful as she looked. “Okay,” she said. “We’d be worthless anyway,” she croaked. “Yeah, goodbye.” McCully ended the call and looked at her partner.

  “The Chief said we need to take the rest of the week off. He doesn’t want our germs,” she grumbled in her too nasally voice.

  “I figured he’d say that. We’re next to useless,” he admitted. His stomach growled.

  Jenna laughed. Or tried to laugh, but it set her off on a coughing spell. Owen fished around for the cold tablets and handed them to her along with the sport drink he still held. Jenna washed the pills down and handed a bottle and more pills to McCully who also took them. Then she passed some over to Owen. He took them and they all flopped back onto their beds.

  “I’m hungry,” McCully announced and Owen seconded.

  “Okay. Well, you two still have fevers, so you shouldn’t be hungry, but I think I can rustle up something,” Jenna replied. “You both stay here. I don’t have a fever anymore, so that means I’m the boss,” she stated.

  “Who died and left her in charge?” McCully darted a look at her partner.

  “Being in charge means she has to cook,” Owen reminded her, before he start
ed coughing again. Jenna rolled her eyes, but thumped him on the back, which helped to stop the coughing. She picked up his sports drink bottle and handed it to him.

  “Thanks,” he choked out, and finished off the drink.

  “Sure. Now relax. If I dawdle long enough, maybe Emmy will come and take pity on us,” Jenna speculated.

  “Good thinking,” McCully croaked before diving for the tissue box. “Why is my nose running so much?” she wailed.

  Owen lifted his head to pin her with a stare. “You have the flu,” he told her needlessly.

  “Thanks, Chester,” she said, before flouncing back onto her cot.

  Jenna left them in good spirits, if a bit feverish yet.

  By the time she perused the sorry contents of her refrigerator, she determined she’d have to call Emmy for help when her kitchen door whooshed open.

  “What are you doing out of bed?” Emmy demanded, loaded down with the picnic basket and two grocery bags.

  Jenna relieved her of the grocery bags before answering. “I’m not feverish anymore, and someone has to cook.”

  “That’s what you’ve got me for. You’re all going to be guinea pigs,” Emmy stated.

  “Oh, good,” Jenna enthused. She had yet to sample something inedible made by Emmy.

  “Of course, it would seriously help if you three could actually taste what you’ll be eating.”

  “Right. But at least we’ll be able to keep our strength up.”

  “True. Back to bed with you. I’ve got this under control.” She shooed Jenna back up the stairs.

  Owen opened an eye when she crawled back into the bed. He’d moved to the other side to give her room without crawling over him.

  “Emmy’s here, we’re saved.”

  “Thank goodness. If this cold doesn’t kill me, hunger might,” McCully spoke from the depths of the blankets she had piled on.

  “We wouldn’t dare starve with Emmy around,” Jenna assured her. “I’m still surprised the two of you are hungry with the fevers you’ve got.”

  “Did she bring more shortbreads?” Owen asked hopefully.

  Jenna groaned and rolled over to face him. “I don’t know,” she said, wincing at how awful her voice sounded. “But whatever she makes will be excellent.”

  “True,” Owen agreed and closed his eye.

  They dozed until Emmy entered the room. With her, she brought enticing dishes that had them all sitting up in bed eagerly. Even Jenna, whose tummy hadn’t particularly cared if it got fed or not, now rumbled with hunger.

  Emmy calmly handed a plate of what looked like baked oatmeal to each of them. Not a fan of oatmeal, Jenna eyed the offering dubiously.

  “Try a bite before you decide you don’t want it,” Emmy encouraged.

  Neither detective showed any signs of Jenna’s self restraint. Both of them dug right into the meal. She spooned up a bit of the mush on her plate and placed it into her mouth. While her taste buds were a bit inhibited by the flu, she still appreciated the cinnamon and allspice seasonings that burst onto her tongue. She tasted something sweet in the mixture and dug up a fresh chunk of peach, first. Soon she encountered strawberries and blueberries too.

  “I really wish I could taste this better,” McCully moaned.

  “I’ll make it for you again, when you’re well,” Emmy promised. “It is good to try some of these recipes on sick people. Because if you can tell this recipe is good, with limited taste bud power, then I know healthy people will also enjoy my concoction.”

  “I’m enjoying this, Em, and I don’t care for oatmeal,” Jenna offered.

  “Excellent.” Emmy looked at Owen with interest, but he was busy scraping his plate clean.

  Emmy handed him some toast and juice, which he accepted with alacrity.

  “Thank you,” he intoned in his too deep, grating voice.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ll have some juice, but no toast,” Jenna decided, and Emmy handed the toast intended for her to Owen. He smiled at her and Jenna watched her friend’s lips quirk.

  McCully relinquished her empty plate and took the toast and juice Emmy offered. Jenna wondered if she’d go into chocolate withdrawal. Neither cop had requested coffee, either. Both of them surely would have awful headaches if not for the medicine she pushed on them.

  Emmy collected the empty dishes and left them with a large bag of cookies. Jenna smiled when she noticed the bag contained shortbread cookies dipped in chocolate. McCully wouldn’t need to go cold turkey after all.

  The three took turns in the bathroom before attempting more sleep. Jenna curled into Owen, feeling like even though she was sick, she wouldn’t have given up these days together for all the medicine in America. There was just something about sharing sickness with someone to draw you closer to them. If she’d had to choose who to be sick with, Owen O’Maley would have been her top pick.

  Chapter 5

  As the week wore on, both Owen and McCully’s fevers broke and the three of them grew restless. Jenna had learned early on that restless patients made bad patients, so she wasn’t surprised when both detectives began spending a lot of time on the phone on Thursday. Checking in at the precinct and talking with those helping on the Gentleman Caller case. Jenna hoped both of them had lots of minutes on their phones, because they both talked incessantly into them.

  Of course she also did a lot of talking on the phone. She checked in with her office and tied a few loose ends from the comfort of her home. A novel idea. Some of the newer doctors on her team had gladly taken over the majority of her patient load and she discovered she didn’t have nearly as much waiting for her at the clinic as she first feared.

  She still intended to go to work tomorrow, but at least she faced a much shorter day than she initially feared. Jenna glanced over at Owen speaking quietly into his phone as his hand raced over the notebook in front of him. He wore a frown, and she wondered if that was his face for deep concentration. She had learned so much about him during their shared illness and she was grateful they had shared this time. In sickness and in health...

  Of course, she had thoroughly messed up their first date, but she didn’t regret the way things happened. She had known Owen O’Maley professionally for several months now. And she definitely liked all she discovered about this sensational man. Now, she knew him on a far more intimate level, and her new knowledge only made her want to learn more. The man was gorgeous, even sick. He could even make the act of coughing look sexy. Especially when he bent an arm to cover his mouth and those wonderful biceps muscles bulged. Mmm, yummy.

  That night, when she left the bathroom, it was to find him laying face down on her bed, his face buried in a pillow. She heard him groan.

  “We are definitely going back to work tomorrow,” he muttered.

  “But the chief told us to take the week off,” McCully argued, as she precariously leaned over to snatch up the bag of chocolate dipped shortbread cookies on the bedside stand.

  Owen turned his head, apparently to look or glare at her. The back of his head was toward her, so Jenna couldn’t see his expression. “You’re getting out of control, we’re going back to work,” he repeated.

  McCully liberated a cookie from the bag and held the treat aloft. “Ah ha, my pretty, I will eat you!” she declared in piratical tones, before taking a huge bite.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have introduced you to Fred.” His tone was introspective.

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’ll appreciate your...weirdness,” Owen returned with the devil in his voice now.

  “Too bad for you then,” McCully chirped through her cookie crumbs. “You’re stuck with me.”

  “That I am,” Owen agreed, turning onto his back. He reached out to snag a cookie from her stash. “And we’ve got a serial rapist to catch.”

  “That we do,” McCully replied, eyeing his attempt to filch one of her cookies with deep suspicion.

  Jenna grinned at the display. In the lamplight, their hair glea
med nearly the same shade and they lay, him on the bed, her on her cot, in nearly identical sprawls. They really did act like siblings, the way they bickered and fought, yet they were also fiercely loyal to each other. Wisely, she decided not to say anything about their similarities, because they grew uncomfortable when people commented.

  “I’m also going into the office tomorrow,” she commented.

  Owen swung around to stare at her. “Is that wise?”

  “Of course. I work with other doctors, so if they don’t feel I’m up to being there, you can bet I’ll be sent home promptly.”

  “I don’t know.”

  Jenna raised a brow. “You’re going in to catch a serial rapist.”

  “You’re going into a place where there are sick people.”

  “You don’t think there’ll be sick people at the police station?”

  McCully watched them, her head swinging back and forth like a tennis spectator.

  “Not like you’ll encounter.”

  “I promise to behave,” Jenna said and Owen started nodding his head in agreement. “As long as you promise to do the same,” she finished. He stopped nodding and started scowling.

  McCully laughed, although it sounded like the bark from a snippy dog. “We agree,” she said for her partner. Owen swung around to include her in his glare.

  “We do?” he inquired, his voice every bit as rough and raw as theirs.

  “Yes, we do.”

  “Okay,” he replied affably, and started coughing.

  Jenna laughed, which then set her off too.

  “So, obviously, we’re going to be mature and responsible about this,” McCully said, making it sound as though maturity was a bad thing.

  “Right,” Jenna agreed between coughs.

  Owen flopped back onto the bed after he stopped coughing. Jenna joined him. McCully looked over at them. “Slugs,” she said repulsively. Owen lifted his head off his pillow to shoot her a glare.