“Hey.” I clear my throat, realizing I sound like a man who’s been smoking for two hundred years. “It’s actually not Mark.”
There is a long and pregnant pause on the other end. “And who is this?” she asks, sounding a little accusing. I wince, not blaming her for turning a little bitchy when she heard my voice.
“It’s Alicia, his neighbor,” I reply, hoping it will keep him out of trouble with her. “I think Mark is sick. I mean I know he’s sick. He has a really high fever.”
“How high?” she asks.
“One oh four point two. And it hasn’t dropped after two Tylenols.”
“I’ll be there in a few.” The phone goes dead.
I look at it, confused as to what happened. She didn’t sound like a girlfriend would, even though I wouldn’t know how one might sound. Maybe they like to call each other motherfuckers. Maybe it’s just some sort of foreplay.
Putting his phone on the coffee table, I wonder if I did the right thing. I mean, she clearly knew something was wrong if she asked if he went to the doctor’s, right? And besides, I’d be calling nine one one anyway in about thirty minutes if the pills didn’t work.
I let Ghost inside, and he instantly takes a spot next to the couch. He tries to climb on top of Mark a few times, but I don’t let him. He gives me a stink eye but stays on the floor.
I check Mark’s temperature again, and it hasn’t changed. Now I begin to really worry. Ghost picks up on my mood because he starts moving around the couch and trying to climb on top of Mark, and I send him on his merry way outside to the back yard, because quite honestly, I don’t know how to deal with a worried dog atop of worrying myself.
In about twenty-two minutes—I’ve been checking the time nonstop—a car pulls up outside. I run to the door and open it. It’sher. The same gorgeous woman stands before me, the porch light absolutely glowing off of her beautiful dark skin. Her shiny hair is even prettier in person. She seems to be in her early thirties. After a moment, she comes rushing in without even a second glance in my direction. She’s carrying a huge bag with an unmistakable cross sign.
“Hey,” I greet her, feeling super uncomfortable. What do I do? Do I go home? “He is on the couch.” I point in Mark’s direction and go to leave, but she stops me with a firm tone.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Home.” I point at my house. “You’re here. I can go.”
“Hell no,” she answers as she shoves a thermometer into his mouth. “I’m not moving his huge ass alone. C’mere.”
Stunned, I obey. I wouldn’t want another woman with my man in the same room when I was about to take care of him. I go back to the couch and watch her, blinking. “Do you know what he’s got?”
“Scared to catch it from him?”
“No. Just worried.” I shrug, a little offended.
“Why are you here, by the way? This seems pretty bad.” She bites her lower lip in concentration.
“It would be unfortunate if I got it, but what can we do?” I shrug again. “What was I supposed to do? Leave him here alone?”
“Yeah, his whole problem is he’s alone,” she mutters, and I get the feeling it was not meant for my ears.
“Alone. What do you mean?” My brows draw together.
“I mean he’s got no one. That’s what I mean.” If I didn’t watch her face so carefully, I would miss the way her lips twitched.
“But—” I clear my throat. “He’s got you.”
She stands tall, hands on her hips. “Who do you think I am?”
I suddenly truly understand how a deer caught in a headlight feels. “His girlfriend?” Why did it sound a question? I let out a loud groan. Mentally.
She chuckles. “Nope, he’s got no one, and I’m just his dear ol’ friend.” She directs her attention back to him. “Help me here.”
“You know what happened to him?” I ask as I step closer to help her lift Mark up to a sitting position. He’s totally out of it.
He is totally out of it.
Totally out of it.
