Page 66 of A Crazy Kind of Love
“Are you sure you can’t come to Connecticut? Do some gambling? See a little rock show? Couldn’t you call it an interview?”
“I wish. My boss isn’t interested in rock shows. That’s for another section of the paper.”
“Well, why don’t you work for that section?”
“Too much competition.”
“I could put in a word.” He waggled his eyebrows as if the animals at the zoo could choose their own spectators.
“You are free to try. But I have to go serve out the rest of my punishment today.”
His winced. “Punishment?”
I grabbed his comforter and draped it over us. I’d started to feel a distinct chill. “It’s nothing. Andy wants to teach me a lesson, so he’s sent me off to cover the airports.”
“Why’s he teaching you a lesson?”
“He says I’m too soft. I’m supposed to grow a spine or something.”
Micah ran his hand across my back. “You have a nice spine. Solid.”
The shiver turned into goose bumps, and I’d started to sweat. “Micah?” I tried to stand up, but I staggered. I found the sofa and lay down.
He was up in a second. “Oh, shit. What do I do?”
“Juice.”
He left the room and returned, jabbing the plastic straw at the juice box, swearing the whole time. Purple liquid dripped from the puncture, and the straw had bent so badly there was a hole in it. I sucked it down and relaxed into a pillow. “Meter,” I said.
“Where?” His face was white panic, but I focused and pointed up.
He bounded up the stairs and came back with the meter. I fed the strip in, then pricked my finger and pressed the blood against the strip. It was low. “Can you bring me that pizza in your fridge?”
He ran and got it. I said, “I’m sorry for this,” and ate like a starving wildebeest. Then I curled up, wrapping my arms around myself. It hadn’t even registered I’d done all this butt-ass naked until he placed the comforter over me. But then again, so had he.
“Are you going to be okay? Should I call the doctor?”
“I’ll be fine. It looks scary, but you did everything perfectly. Could you just buy more food?” I offered a weak laugh to help lighten the mood, but it made me feel nauseated, so I closed my eyes and tried to wait out the dizziness and light-headedness and cold, clammy sweats.
Micah sat beside me for ten minutes, holding my hand with a look of serious concern on his face. “I’m going to kill you, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, but not how you think.”
“Huh?”
“Sorry. My sense of humor is off.”
“Should I stay here with you? What do you need?”
“I’m going to be fine in a few minutes. And then we go on with our day as planned. This is what my life is like. Usually not so dramatic. I’m going to have to figure out what I need to adjust. Maybe I’ll get to eat more now.” I tried to laugh again, and it didn’t make me want to puke, so I sat up and threw my feet on the floor. I took one more reading to make sure and then asked, “Can I use your shower?”
He must have run to the deli while I got ready. When I finished showering, he proudly displayed the various things he’d bought, from an apple to a breakfast sandwich with egg and cheese and bacon.
“I should be going. I’ve got to catch two trains to get to the airport’s air train.”
“No, you don’t. I’ll call my driver. So sit down and eat something.”
I liked bossy Micah. “Show me what you got.”
