Waters Fall
Page 21
27
The next morning, she awoke to a pressure between her temples that pulsed against the backs of her eyes. She sat up groggily, her head weighing a thousand pounds.
She had the morning to herself while Jake and the kids were at church, so she took another shower, hoping the steam would open her sinuses and wake her up, but it didn’t help much. She poured herself a glass of cold soda water, afraid to even try coffee, and took some pills to combat her headache. She couldn’t remember what the plan was this afternoon, but the way she felt, it wouldn’t matter. Whatever they did would be torture for her.
After locking up, she fumbled in her purse to find her shades, the sun like daggers in her eyes. She sat in the car for a few minutes, actually considering calling Jake and telling him she couldn’t make it, but after the way things had ended last night, her guilt overrode her misery. Surely the medicine would kick in soon.
Jake was out in the garage when she arrived, fiddling with the lawn mower. He glanced up as she pulled up in front of the house, acknowledged her with a wave, and bent over his task again. She was greatly relieved when he didn’t rush out to meet her; all she wanted to do was lie down again. There was a bomb ticking away inside her head, and she felt flushed and chilled at the same time. She hoped the kids were in the back yard, or at least uncharacteristically calm.
She dropped her purse on the coffee table and curled up into the corner of the sofa, dragging the throw from the back of the couch around her shoulders. Several minutes went by before she heard the front door open and close, and Jake’s footsteps approaching.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she replied, not opening her eyes.
“What’s up with you?” It wasn’t kindness in his voice, but at least he wasn’t ignoring her.
“I think my head is going to explode. Not feeling so well today.” She cracked one eye open and peered up at him, unable to read his expression.
He stood looking down at her for such a long time that she finally closed her eye again and pulled the throw up over her face. She heard him walk away and sighed heavily, wishing for all the world that things were different.
“Nora?” He was back with a glass of water in one hand and something cupped in the other. “I brought you some medicine.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t know how much time had passed since she’d taken the pills at the cottage, and she murmured from under the blanket. “Just put them on the end table.”
He sat down on the coffee table in front of her and waited until she poked her head out to look at him again. Apparently, he wanted to talk, so she pulled herself a little more upright, bringing her feet to the floor for balance.
“Mmm,” she moaned quietly. She was feeling worse by the minute, not better.
“I’m sorry about last night.” Jake spoke without preamble, straightforward, and to the point. “I was out of line trying to pressure you to stay here, but I still want you to consider going to see Pastor Rob with me. Will you think about it?”
“I have thought about it, Jake. I think you should go to him yourself for now. I’m just not ready. I don’t care what you tell him. You can tell him everything and anything. I mean it. I’m not interested in hiding anything; I just don’t feel like talking about it myself.” She leaned her head back on the cushions behind her and closed her eyes again. “If you think he can help you sort some things out, then I absolutely encourage you to go.”
Jake didn’t speak. She could sense his physical closeness even with her eyes closed, and she drew her legs back up on the couch, tucking them under her. She wasn’t put off by him; she just didn’t want to be touched by anyone right now. Her skin felt like every nerve ending had worked itself to the surface and was just waiting to be stimulated, to cause her discomfort.
“I think I need to go back to bed,” she muttered. “Where are the kids?”
“They’re next door at the Buckners. Their grandkids came home from church with them, so I let Leslie and Felix go over there to play until lunch. Do you want me to call them?”
“No, that’s all right. I think I should just go back to my place and rest some more.” She sat forward, trying to work up the energy to stand. “Can you tell them I’m not feeling well and that I’ll be back tonight?”
“Sure, but you look pretty awful. Are you okay to drive?” Jake stood and offered her his hand. She took it, finding momentary comfort in the way her hand felt so familiar in his, and pulled herself upright. He didn’t resist when she pulled away.
“I’ll be okay. I just need to go get some more sleep.” She found her sunglasses in the top of her purse and slipped them on as he followed her out the front door to her car. “I’ll call you when I wake up. Stop worrying,” she said when she saw his look of concern. “I’ll be fine.”
Jake stood on the curb watching as she pulled away, but she didn’t pay too much attention. She needed all her efforts focused on the road in front of her.
She barely made it in the front door and raced to her bathroom where she vomited what little there was in her stomach. She hated throwing up. She hated the uncontrollable violence of it, the way her body felt like it was going to turn inside out, and especially the way it seemed to increase the pressure in her head. What was wrong with her?
Nora exchanged her jeans for baggy sweats, slipping a pair of thick socks on her feet. June was as hot as ever in the middle of the day, but a fever was making her teeth chatter and her skin goose-bump. She burrowed beneath the covers of her bed and waited to get warm.
Her throat hurt, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the fever or from vomiting. Every inch of her body was hypersensitive to touch; even the sheets rubbed against her painfully when she moved, and every single muscle group ached inside of her.
“I’m so sick,” she whispered pitifully. There was no one to hear or care. She was truly alone in her quiet little sanctuary.
~ ~ ~
Jake sat at the kitchen table, his coffee cup empty before him, staring at the wood grain beneath his fingertips. He’d been sitting there for almost an hour, listening to the silence of the house around him. The kids would be back soon for lunch, but he couldn’t stop thinking about his wife.
If he didn’t know any better, Jake would have thought she looked hung over. Nora had her favorite wines, but she never drank more than a glass or two in a sitting. She didn’t like not having control, and inebriation to her was the epitome of no control. She hated throwing up—he’d learned that with her first pregnancy when he’d found her in the bathroom one night, weeping and clutching her stomach, desperate to keep from vomiting.
But if she wasn’t hung over, then Nora really was sick. And if the suffering on her face this morning was any indication, then she was really sick, indeed.
Should he call her? Should he offer to help?
His initial desire was to go to her and take care of her. He could make her hot tea, chicken broth, make sure she drank her water and took her pills. But why? Why should he do anything to help her feel better? She should suffer, and suffer, and suffer some more, until everything inside of her was torn to shreds. Why was he even considering it? Besides, she hated being rescued and she’d told him so many, many times. Oh, she didn’t use those words. No, she called him clingy, and smothering, and suffocating, but all he’d ever wanted was to make her happy.
“Ah. Let her rot over there in her little hovel,” he growled, shoving his chair back as he stood. “She doesn’t need a knight in shining armor. She needs a poison apple.” He wrenched open the refrigerator door and began pulling out ingredients for the dishes he’d planned on cooking for their Sunday lunch together, then slammed it with even more vehemence, as he laughed scornfully at himself. On the counter was everything necessary for her favorite Italian meal. He’d even taken the kids to Panelli’s Market Saturday morning for some authentic Calabrian sausage and another bottle of Moscato. Maybe he should just get the gun out again. Maybe he should use it on himself. What a fool he was!
Jake had to lean against the counter for support, the thoughts coming at him like flying fists. How could he survive? How could he endure yet another day with this much pain? This morning, he sat in church listening to Pastor Rob speaking from John 15 about what it meant to lay down your life for your friends. He explained that laying down one’s life was not about being acknowledged, it was not about expecting a life in return, but about loving unconditionally. Yet, it all seemed so unrealistic to him. Sure, he’d heard this message before. He’d even taught on it during their Bible Study. In fact, up until now, he always thought he lived out what it meant to love unconditionally. But he never really considered how things might change if Nora didn’t love him unconditionally back.
What was she doing right this very moment? Was she with him? Was he there with her? He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, desperate to squeeze out the images behind his lids. He couldn’t take it another moment. He picked up the phone, and when the neighbor answered, he made things up on the spot.
“Hi, Mrs. Buckner. I have a huge favor to ask. Nora is at work today, but she isn’t feeling well and needs me to bring her some medicine. Can I leave Leslie and Felix with you just a little longer? I shouldn’t be gone too long.”
Edie Buckner agreed readily. “In fact, why don’t you take her some lunch and I’ll keep Les and Felix here. The kids are making hopeful plans for a picnic as we speak, so I know they’ll be thrilled.”
Jake thanked her and shoved everything haphazardly back into the refrigerator.
He didn’t care that she’d given him strict instructions to call first, that he wasn’t allowed to simply show up at her cottage unannounced. He was going over there to find out what she was up to. In fact, once the decision was made, he found the idea rather invigorating. Suddenly, he wanted more than anything to meet this Tristan. He wanted to see first-hand what he was up against.
By the time he pulled up outside her little place, Jake had worked himself into a rage. He burst out of his truck, slamming the door behind him, and charged up to her front patio. He’d already used his fist to pound on the door, before it occurred to him that hers was the only other car there. It didn’t slow him down too much, though. She probably picked the guy up and brought him home with her.
“Nora! Open up!” He thumped a few more times before trying the door, and was surprised to find it unlocked. He threw it open so that it banged against the wall behind it, and stepped inside her secret lovers’ hideaway.
It was shadowy and cool inside with all the blinds drawn and the lights off, and it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust. He’d only been in here two other times before, both during the week she’d moved, because she needed his truck and manpower to move her furniture. He’d left everything in a pile in the middle of the floor, so the artfully arranged room made him pause as he looked around at all her stuff. Everything here was uniquely Nora; her trinkets, the artwork she loved, the fabrics, the colors. And the fragrance. There was that erotic fragrance again.
“Jake? What is it?” Her voice, quiet and shaky, came from behind the two-paneled divider separating her sleeping area from the rest of the room. “The…the kids?”
He heard the pain in her voice, and he stood, suddenly uncertain, suddenly deflated.
Suddenly wrong.
“Jake? Is something wrong?”
Peering through the space between the divider’s panels, he could see the outline of her form huddled beneath the blankets on her bed.
“I… I came to check on you, Nora.” He cursed himself inside for where his mind had taken him, and now for having to lie about it. “You looked terrible when you left. I was worried.”
She didn’t say anything in response, and he added lamely, “Sorry I didn’t call first.”
When she still didn’t respond, he began to feel defensive. “Come on, Nor. Don’t give me the silent treatment. I was just worried about you, okay? Geez.”
Then he heard the sniffle. She was crying. He’d blown it again. Jake turned around and walked out, pulling the cottage door closed quietly behind him.
He crossed her little river rock patio and gazed down into the water, wishing it would wash away the last half hour. She really was sick. And he really was ridiculous, as Nora so often said, charging over here like a bull in a china shop, barging in on her like that, making all kinds of false accusations. Even though he hadn’t verbalized them, he was pretty sure she’d heard his thoughts in the way he knocked on the door and hollered for her. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t over here checking up on her out of concern for her well-being, and he knew her well enough that he should have known she wasn’t faking the dark circles under her eyes and the bright pink fever splotches on her cheeks.
“Why should I believe her, though?” he asked himself out loud, trying to justify his behavior. “Why should I believe anything she tells me? She doesn’t deserve my trust.” But his reasoning didn’t make him feel any better, and the fact that she actually was sick, and now crying in there, made him feel even worse.
Swallowing his pride, he headed back inside and poked his head around the screen. Nora was sitting up on the side of her bed blowing her nose, her blanket pulled tightly around her shoulders. “Go away,” she mumbled between sniffles.
“I’m sorry, Nora. What can I do to help you?” Her skin was so blanched, she almost looked blue to him, and he was becoming quite concerned. “Have you taken anything? Do you need some water?”
“I can’t keep anything down, not even water. And pills just come back up with the water.” She rested her forehead in her hand and closed her eyes again. “My head. It’s in a vice. I can’t think. I need to sleep but it hurts so much.”
The way she spoke in choppy sentences around long pauses scared him, and he reached out and pressed the back of his hand to her neck. “Oh, Baby, you’re burning up. I’m getting you a cold washcloth.” He hesitated briefly, not really comfortable digging around her domain. “In the bathroom, right?”
“Oh no, please. I’m so cold.”
“Nora, you need to break that fever. It’s really bad. I can feel your heat from a foot away.”
“I just need to sleep.” She lay back down, groaning as she pulled her legs back under the covers. “Go home. Tell the kids, okay? I’ll see them tonight. Or tomorrow.”
Jake stood undecided for another minute, then made up his mind. “You need to come home, Nora. You’re really sick, and I’m not leaving you here alone.” He found her sandals by the door and brought them back to the bed. She still didn’t respond, so he slipped his hand under the blankets and reached for her feet. “Come on, Nor. Let’s go.” She didn’t resist when he pulled her feet out and took her hand to pull her back up to sitting. She even let him slip her sandals on.
“Thanks, Jakey.” She croaked, then patted him on the head. “I don’t really want to die alone.”
“Don’t joke like that. Not cool.” He stood up and pulled her with him, not caring that she’d called him Jakey today. In fact, it was the most tender she’d said his name in a very long time. He tucked her blanket more tightly around her, scooped up her favorite pillow, and shuffled her out the door, grabbing her purse and keys on the way. He helped her up into his truck and settled her in, grimacing at the thought of blankets in the ninety-five degree weather.
She sighed pitifully. “This heat feels so good. I’m freezing.” He left the air conditioner off, and by the time they reached home, his back was drenched in sweat against the seat cushion. She was curled in on herself, her burning cheek against his shoulder, sound asleep.
Jake helped her to bed, then he made her take more pain killers with some hot tea he brewed for her. She managed to keep it down this time, and fell asleep with a hot water bottle on her stomac
h and a cool washcloth on her forehead.
He headed to the neighbors to fill them in on Nora’s condition and was relieved when the Buckners asked if the kids could go with them to a matinee movie. That would keep them busy for the afternoon, and Nora could sleep undisturbed for a while.
Back at home, he made himself a quick lunch, then he returned to check on her. She was still asleep, but seemed so restless. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently stroked her hair away from her face. She murmured something unintelligible and turned on her side, curling her body around him where he sat. She opened her eyes briefly, peering up at him from behind a haze of sleep, and smiled sweetly. “I love you, Jakey.”
28
Nora tried to open her eyes, but it felt like her lids were weighted down by sandbags. She moaned as she turned onto her side, every muscle resisting her with pain, but she felt certain she was over the worst of it. She’d been in bed for nearly a week, getting up only to use the bathroom. Jake made sure she always had fresh water, cool washcloths, and something for her headaches on hand. He brought her hot tea, and chicken noodle soup when she could handle it. Otherwise, he left her alone.
She preferred it that way; it was another way they were so different. When Jake was ill, he lay on the couch where he could be surrounded by people he loved, and be loved on in return. She, on the other hand, holed up when she felt poorly, rarely showing her face until she was ready to get back to real life. This time was no different in that respect, but she knew she’d been sicker by far than she could ever remember, at least as an adult, and she was glad Jake had made her come home so he could take care of her.
Jake slept on the couch all week, converting the bedroom into a sick bay. The kids poked their heads in periodically, but he usually made them keep their visits brief. He fielded her work calls, rescheduled everyone in her appointment book, and called Jo to ask her to check on things at her office. Nora let him call the shots on just about everything except taking her to the doctor. She refused to go anywhere, certain that this was nothing more than a bad case of the flu, complicated by her overly-stressed immune system.