Leave it to someone in my family tonotget that message. Or just ignore it completely.
Whatever, it hardly mattered now as they stood on the other side of the door. Sure, it was annoying they were here to baby me once again, but I was also sort of excited to see someone. And I was tired of fighting it—Tired of being alone.
Sometimes it took a catatonic sick nap and the feeling like someone had scraped you hollow to regret your decisions. I could restart my campaign to be strong tomorrow. But for now, if they were already here, what the heck right?
Several minutes of struggling to move finally deposited me in front of the door. I opted to slip on large socks first, as I’d rather chew my own fingers than touch the cold floor right now. And the wall was my best friend the entire way there, helping me to stay steady the entire time.
The door continued to pound even as I stood right in front of it. If I had the strength to bang back, I would. Turns out I barely had the strength to pull the dang thing open. Thank God whichever oneof my siblings that showed up had caught on, pushing it open as soon as it was cracked.
Exhausted, I leaned against the wall of the doorjamb, content to set up shop there for the night.
I should have known something was up when I didn't immediately receive an earful upon opening the door. It wasn’t like my siblings to be quiet aboutanything, and the goings on outside of the door was distinctly mute.
Still, even with this suspicious tipoff, it was the “Oh, baby,” delivered from the butteriest of voices that had my eyes wrenching open in surprise. And there, the sight of my every recent dream and my current worst nightmare was staring me right in my face.
“Harper?” I croaked. Woah, when had my voice turned intothat?
Yes, it was Harper, though he didn’t take the time to answer me. His eyebrows just pulled low on his face as he took me in. Was he glaring? I’d watched this man laugh for three days straight and now, on first sight, he was glaring?
Great.
“You look like shit, Boss,” were his next words.
Even better.
“I’m fine,” I lied straight through my teeth, or more accurately, through my golf ball sized throat. I think it was inflamed.
“Fine, my ass. You sound like a chain-smoker, and you look…”
I wasn’t so sick that I couldn’t glare back. This guy could really say the worst stuff sometimes. “I get it, Harper.”
“Alright.” He nodded, not taking his wary eyes off of me. When I just stood there, his eyebrows climbed his face expectantly, “So do you need help walking or…”
“No.”
“Then let’s get a move on,” he said, still lingering.
Blame it on the brain fog, but it still took another second for itall to hit me. When it did, I stood up straighter though it was difficult. “You want to come in?”
“Affirmative.”
“No,” I said, surprised he even wanted such a thing. “You can’t.”
“I have to,” he said. Slow. Simple.
My own eyebrows pulled together, confusion mixing with sickness and causing my head to throb. “Why?”
“You’re sick.”
“And that's not your business.”
“It’s exactly my business.”
“How is me being sick your business?”
His eyes narrowed, “Becauseyouare my business. Itake careof my business. I take care ofyou.”
My stomach rolled, and for the first time in a week it was not from nausea. But I still shook my head. “No, Harp. I don’t want you catching what I have.”
