Page 70 of Landing Love

“Grew up together. We couldn’t stand each other when we were young. I used to pull her pigtails and put frogs in her lunch pail. And she gave as good as she got. One time she put hot pepper in my lunch sandwich, and oh, you should have heard me scream!” Joe laughed but descended into coughing.

“Have a drink.” Bill poured him a glass of water from the pitcher on the table between their beds.

The old man took it and gave him a wink.

“When I asked her to marry me, she asked if I was sick in the head,” Joe continued. “It took me two whole years to wear her down, but she came around at last.”

“Sounds like she’s very special to you.”

“She’s the love of my life. Can’t imagine life without her, though she’d be just fine without me, I’m sure.”

“And I’m sure she’d be just as lost without you as you are without her.”

Joe coughed and took another sip of water. “Maybe I’m not up for canasta after all.” He leaned back and putting down his cards. “Pardon me. I think I need to close my eyes for a bit.”

Bill decided he would do the same. This illness seemed to sap all his energy. He could sleep a year, and it wouldn’t be enough.

He closed his eyes, the hot afternoon sun coming through the window and glowing through his eyelids.

As he drifted off, he wondered what Ann was doing that moment. He knew she had to quarantine, so she would be in the apartment with Junior. Perhaps she was crocheting a doily or knitting a sweater. So industrious, his new wife was! He longed to get better so that he could enjoy her heat and energy at length, preferably with their clothes off.

If only he’d been feeling better when he got home from DC, they might have enjoyed themselves. Ah, well…

Sleep claimed him and he let himself drift off.

After dinner that night, Joe was in the mood to chat again. “So tell me about the little lady you just married.”

Bill smiled. “She knows how to fix her own leaky faucet.”

“What?” His eyes widened.

“I know. It’s one of the first things I learned about her. She’s a war widow. Her husband was a pilot. When she lost him, she had to fend for herself, so she checked out a book from the library and fixed her own faucet.” There were plenty of men who would have found that off-putting, but he thought it was marvelous. “She’s a wonder.”

Joe whistled. “Sounds like a handful to me.”

“Not at all. She has this gorgeous auburn hair that she always pins up so neatly, and then I come along and mess it up. I can’t help myself. I love touching it.” He wished he could dig his fingers into her soft locks right now and smell her scent of apples and soap as he devoured her smooth porcelain neck.

“Fiery spirit, fiery hair. I’m starting to get the picture.”

Bill smiled. “She’s also the sweetest, kindest, most considerate person I know. Always thinks of others before herself and never wants to impose on anyone for anything. And the cake she baked me after I finished fixing her roof for her—it was a work of art. Michelangelo couldn’t have sculpted a prettier cake, and it tasted as good as it looked.” And the way she looked at him when she brought it to him was something he’d remember for the rest of his life.

“Lucky man. A woman who can bake is worth her weight in gold, in my opinion. My Bess can bake, and I can’t say I’m sorry about the pounds I’ve put on because of it. I’ll keep eating her cookies until I’m in my grave.”

Bill laughed and coughed. “Say, how long have you been here in the hospital?”

“Just got here a few hours before you did.”

“We’ll beat this thing. No mere flu bug can take us down.” Maybe his confidence was excessive, but he couldn’t imagine this being the end of Bill O’Donnell. He had too much to lose. He had to make it through. And so did Joe. Thirty-six years of marriage! A track record like that couldn’t end because of the flu.

“I’m with you, Bill. I’m a tough old coot. It’ll take more than a teeny tiny germ I can’t even see to break me.”

“Gentlemen, it’s lights out now,” said a nurse who flipped the switch. “Goodnight.”

Bill closed his eyes and tried to drift off despite the rattling snore coming from Joe. It sounded like he was trying to breathe under water. Easy, Joe. Keep breathing. Stay with me.

Turning over, Bill let himself drift off to sleep.

In the morning, Bill woke up to the song of a bird right outside his window. It took him a moment to remember where he was and why. Ah, yes. Hospital. Spanish Flu. He turned to Joe to see if he was awake, but the bed was empty. A nurse came in to bring him breakfast, and he asked, “Where did Joe go?”