Romance Through the Ages

by Amy Harmon

  “I’m open to anything that will let me design instead of being a bank teller,” I said.

  “I’d like to call you one of our designers. You’d probably have to keep working your second job for the time being, but we’d call you ours. The advantage of that for you is that any business you come up with will be yours and you’ll be able to use this showroom and our connections to get discounts and special orders. You’d keep all your own business and I wouldn’t take a percentage of what you charge. I think being able to use our name would help you if you want to generate business and I’m sure our connections could make any job you do more profitable. The reason I’d do this is because in exchange for that, I’d want to have first chance at having you work full time for us. If someone else offers you a job, I want the chance to meet their offer. What I’m hoping for is that some time down the road, business will have picked up enough that I can just hire you outright.”

  “That sounds like a reasonable offer,” I said.

  “I want you to take a few days and think about it. I don’t need an answer immediately. I want this to be mutually beneficial.”

  “It would have been nice to have your connections on my first two jobs,” I said.

  “I didn’t realize you’d done another job besides the Kellers,” Emma said. “I’d love to hear about it.”

  “I just finished The Children’s Room at The Pink Salamander.”

  “The bookstore?”

  “Yes. By the college.”

  “So you do residential and commercial design?”

  “I guess technically, I do. I hadn’t really thought of it that way.” I laughed. “I just do whatever I can.”

  “I’d love to see it sometime.”

  “I’m sure you could stop by any time,” I said.

  “I’d rather see it with you, if there’s a time we could stop by together. Do you know if they’re open evenings?”

  “They’re open until seven.”

  “Do you have time to stop by when we leave here?”

  And so Emma Cho followed me to The Pink Salamander. At the sound of the bell, Meg glanced out from the parlor but when she saw it was me, she disappeared.

  Emma liked what I’d done and loved what Sam had done. “He’s brilliant,” I said.

  “And you’re brilliant for commissioning him. Once again, I’m really happy with what I see.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Emma left a short time later with the understanding that we’d talk about her offer in the next week or two. When she had gone, I pulled out one of the little chairs and sat down. I didn’t feel well. I was so tired. I rubbed the back of my neck. The headache had returned—it had never completely left—and a dull ache was settling into my joints. I leaned over and rested my head against the cool table. It felt so good not to move. I knew I should go home. Several times I thought about leaving but lifting my head off the table was too difficult to think about. So I stayed there.

  Matt found me forty minutes later—asleep and burning up with fever.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  “Elizabeth?”

  I heard Matt’s voice but it was too hard to respond.

  “Elizabeth? Are you okay?”

  It took all my strength to slowly lift my head off the table. Matt was kneeling beside me, his hand heavy on my arm. “I don’t feel good,” I said.

  “Tell me what’s wrong.” Matt’s voice was gentle but his hand felt so heavy on my arm. He was crushing it.

  “Everything hurts. I’m so tired.”

  “Meg. Can you come in here?” Matt yelled.

  “Shh. It hurts.” I rested my head back on the table.

  “I’m sorry. Just relax. We’ll get you home.”

  “Did you call me?” Meg asked from across the room.

  “Elizabeth is sick. I’m going to drive her home. Can you follow me in my car and bring me back?”

  “I guess so,” Meg said. “Do you think it will take very long? I’ve got a nail appointment in less than an hour.

  “I’ll get you back for your appointment.” Matt sounded exasperated.

  “I can drive myself home,” I said weakly. I dragged myself to an upright position and slowly stood up. The crown of my head felt like tribal drummers were beating a war dance inside it.

  “I’ll drive you home,” Matt said. “There’s no way I’m sending you off feeling like this. Let’s get you home and to bed.”

  I pulled my car keys out of my pocket and handed them to Matt. I leaned against the door while he got his car keys, too weary to hold myself up. Matt tossed his keys to Meg, put his arm around me and walked me to my car.

  I leaned my head back on the seat and closed my eyes.

  “Just relax. I’ll have you home soon.” Matt squeezed my hand after he started the car, crushing the bones together until they felt like they were sawdust. “How long have you felt sick?”

  “My head started hurting this morning but I took some Tylenol. I’m just so tired.”

  “Hopefully you’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep,” he said.

  Matt parked my car and walked me to my apartment. He used my keys to unlock the door and turned on the lights.

  “Do you want to go get ready for bed?” Matt asked.

  “I’ll just wait here until Janessa gets home,” I said.

  I curled up on one side on the couch. Matt tucked a pillow under my head and covered me with a throw. “I’d wait with you for your roommate, but I’d better get Meg back for her appointment. Just try to get some sleep,” he whispered and kissed me on the forehead. I heard him drop the keys in the bowl before he locked the door from the inside and left.

  I must have fallen asleep. I moved my head to look at the clock on the DVD player. My skull felt thin and fragile and I thought it might shatter if I moved it too quickly. I delicately lifted it until I could see the numbers. 2:47. I carefully laid my head back down and tried to think.

  Had I really slept that long? Where was Janessa? Had she come home and gone to bed? With slow movements, I lifted myself back up and looked around the room. Every joint felt tender and brittle. I slowly made my way to Janessa’s door and peeked inside. The glow of the streetlight outside illuminated her untouched bed. Janessa hadn’t been here.

  And then I remembered.

  Janessa had left this morning for her buying trip to New York. She wasn’t coming home for four more days. I shuffled to the bathroom where I took two Tylenol with several swallows of water. A few minutes later, I was under my covers. I’d taken my shoes off but I was still in the skirt and blouse I’d worn to see Emma Cho.

  I missed Janessa. I wanted my mom. Scorching tears burned down my temple and into my ear. I hadn’t felt like this for years—not since I was a junior in high school and had missed six days of school with the flu. It didn’t take long to fall back asleep.

  My clock said 10:06 when a quiet chirping woke me up. Why didn’t I have my phone with me? It had stopped by the time I made it to the living room, where I found my phone beside my purse and keys on the entry table. It took me a minute to remember how I’d gotten home the night before. Then I remembered Matt had driven me.

  I looked at the missed call. It was the bank. I was supposed to be at work. I hit the return call button and a moment later Delia answered the phone.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Is this Elizabeth?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I should have called.”

  “You sound terrible. Are you okay?”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I just got really sick last night. I’m pretty sure I have the flu. I don’t think I can come in.”

  “Of course not. We don’t want you sharing the flu.”

  “I’m sorry, Delia. I’ll try to come in tomorrow.”

  “No, sweetie. That’s not a good idea. You stay home until you’re well.”

  I took my phone with me and went back to bed and slept until the late afternoon sun was slanting through the blinds, making br
ight stripes on the bed. Matt called sometime before it got dark. “Hey Elizabeth. How are you feeling?”

  “Crappy. I think I have the flu.”

  “Have you been able to get some rest?”

  “That’s all I’ve done today.”

  “Good. I was worried about you last night.”

  “Thanks for bringing me home.”

  “No problem. Is your roommate there?”

  “She’s in New York.”

  “So you’re alone?”

  “It’s okay.”

  Matt let out a long breath. “Elizabeth, I’d come over but with the Grand opening next weekend, I don’t want to catch anything.”

  “I hope I’m better by then.”

  “Me too. I want you to come.”

  I don’t know if Matt said anything for a minute. I think I dozed for several seconds.

  “I think I’ll go back to sleep,” I said.

  “Of course. Good idea.”

  “Goodnight, Matt.”

  “Elizabeth, be sure to call me if you need anything.”

  “Good night.”

  * * *

  My sleep was restless and filled with strange dreams. When I’d stir, I was so disoriented I didn’t know if I’d been asleep for several hours or a couple of days. When I had enough clarity I’d use the bathroom and take more Tylenol. Sometimes I woke up sweaty and hot. I’d throw my covers off and go back to sleep only to wake up sometime later shivering and cold. My phone showed I’d missed three phone calls—one from Janessa and two from Mom.

  I dialed Mom’s number.

  “Hi Lizzie.”

  “Hi mom. I saw you called twice.”

  “I did, but it was last night. Dad and I called to see if we had time to run over and see the room you did in the bookstore.”

  “You called last night?”

  “When we didn’t get an answer, we just stayed home and watched some television. We saw the best documentary about Abraham Lincoln.”

  “That’s great, Mom. Sorry I didn’t answer.”

  “Where were you?”

  “I was here.”

  “You don’t sound good. What’s the matter?”

  “I’ve been sick. I think it’s been a couple of days.”

  “Why didn’t you call me? Do you need anything? Would you like me to make a doctor’s appointment?”

  “That’s okay, Mom. I’ve just got the flu. I’ve had it a couple of days so I think I’m probably on the mend.”

  “Honey, I can come pick you up and bring you home, if you want.”

  “No, Mom. That’s okay. I’ve just been sleeping. I’ll be fine.”

  “Just call me if you change your mind. I’ll come right over and get you.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Be sure to drink plenty of water and get plenty of rest.”

  I looked down at my crumpled skirt and blouse. How many days had I been wearing them? Was this the second day or the third? I checked the date on my phone. Ugh. Three days in the same clothes and there was no way to know how many times they’d been soaked with sweat and then dried.

  My stomach rumbled and I realized I was starving. Had I eaten anything?

  I rummaged through the kitchen trying to find something that looked good. Nothing did but I knew I needed to eat something. I was weak with hunger. I threw away an overripe banana and drank a glass of orange juice. When I couldn’t find anything I wanted to eat, I dropped one of Janessa’s strawberry Pop Tarts into the toaster and laid my head down on the counter while I waited for it to pop back up. I forced myself to finish it even though the cloying sweetness made me want to gag.

  The crumb of energy the Pop Tart provided and my crusty blouse were enough to drive me to the shower. I stood under the water, keeping my balance with a hand on the wall. I managed to wash my hair and soap my body before exhaustion made it almost too difficult to rinse myself completely. I tried to brush my hair but my arms ached at the effort so I went back to bed without finishing.

  A little after five, my phone woke me up.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi Lizzie. Can you talk or are you still at work?”

  “Chad?” My mind was muddled and foggy.

  “Is this Lizzie?”

  “It’s me. I didn’t work today. I’ve been sick for a few days.”

  “A cold?”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s just the flu.”

  “Just the flu?”

  I smiled. “Just the flu.”

  “You don’t even sound like yourself,” Chad said.

  “I promise it’s me.”

  “You poor thing. My mom swears a bowl of hot soup fixes everything. Tell Janessa to make you a bowl of soup.”

  “I’ll tell her when she gets back in town.”

  “She’s not there?”

  “She’s in New York.”

  “Have you been alone this whole time?”

  “It’s okay. I’ve just been sleeping.”

  “Have you eaten anything?”

  “I had a Pop Tart earlier today.” Chad was quiet for so long I finally asked, “Are you still there?”

  Chad sighed. “I’m here.”

  I was suddenly afraid he was going to hang up. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to hear his voice until I fell back asleep. Somehow I had to keep the conversation going. “Did you need something?”

  “No, I don’t need anything,” Chad said.

  “Well, you called so I thought…”

  “Oh, right. I wanted to see how your appointment with Emma Cho went.”

  “It was pretty good. I’m supposed to think about her offer and let her know in a week or two.”

  “She made you an offer?”

  “Sort of.”

  “I’m sorry, Lizzie. You sound tired. You can tell me about this another time.”

  “No! I mean, that’s okay. I don’t mind telling you now.” I told Chad about the meeting with Emma.”

  “She must really be impressed.”

  My thoughts were coming slower. “I’d really like to work with her.”

  “Lizzie, I’m going to let you sleep now.”

  “Oh.” My mind was too fuzzy to think. “Are you sure?” That was a dumb thing to say.

  Chad laughed. “You sound tired.”

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s not quite five-thirty.”

  “Okay. Thanks for calling Chad.”

  “Take care, Lizzie.”

  I turned off my phone and rolled over.

  I’d been asleep for about an hour when a knock at the door woke me. I thought about ignoring it but then the knock came again. By the time I reached the door, whoever was on the other side was knocking a third time. Or was it a fourth?

  I looked through the peephole.

  It was Chad!

  I cracked the door a few inches. “You should have told me you were coming. I look like death.”

  Chad laughed. “Lizzie, I don’t care what you look like. I’m here to keep you from starving to death. Can I come in?”

  I swung the door open for him and stepped aside. Chad walked through holding two bags.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “In this one is chicken noodle soup and rolls from the Soup Pantry. In this one is a chocolate cake.”

  “Mmm. That sounds delicious.”

  “And,” Chad said as he reached into the second bag. “I thought you might be bored so I asked myself what movie would make you feel better. How did I do?” He held up a DVD of Pride and Prejudice.

  I smiled. “You did good.”

  “You go sit down. I’ll bring this in to you.”

  Instead of sitting down, I went to the bathroom. Horrified, I looked at my reflection. I looked ready for Halloween. My skin was sallow with dark circles under my sunken eyes. My hair looked like a clown wig from the bottom of a box, flat in places and a disheveled, frizzy mess in others. My sweatshirt and flannel pajamas hung loosely on my hungry body.r />
  I tried to tame my hair and then gave up and pulled it into a messy bun instead. I considered a little makeup but the effort I’d exerted on my hair left me weary. I gave up and went back to the living room.

  Chad walked in just after me. “You don’t have any trays so I used a cookie sheet,” he said.

  On the cookie sheet was a bowl of steaming soup, a buttered roll and a glass of ice water. “This looks so good,” I said.

  “Eat up. There’s plenty. I bought a gallon of soup.”

  “Are you having some?”

  “I’ll get mine in a minute. I wanted to get you all situated.”

  Chad put the cookie sheet on the coffee table and covered me with a throw before placing the tray on my lap. “Don’t wait for me. Just eat.”

  The first bite of soup tasted like a spoonful of heaven. The noodles were thick and substantial and the broth was rich and flavorful. I moaned in delight.

  “You like it, huh?” he said walking back in the room with his own bowl of soup.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so delicious.”

  We ate in silence. I was glad. I was too tired to talk and I didn’t want to stop eating anyway. I felt like a survivor on a desert island who hasn’t tasted real food in months. That wasn’t that far from the truth.

  “Do you want more?” Chad asked as he took my tray.

  I shook my head. “Maybe later.”

  “What about cake?”

  “Maybe a little piece if you’re having some.”

  “I’ll eat cake with you,” Chad said.

  A short time later he walked in with two slices of cake. I’d only planned to eat a couple of bites but it was so delicious I couldn’t stop, even though each bite was an effort to lift my fork to my mouth.

  Chad took my dirty plate. I snuggled back on the couch and pulled the throw over my shoulders. I drifted in and out of sleep to the sound of Chad washing dishes in my kitchen.

  “Lizzie,” Chad whispered and I opened my eyes. “I’m going to go.” I shifted to sit up and he patted my shoulder. “You don’t have to get up,” he said.

  I didn’t want him to leave. “No. Please. I want to watch the movie.”