Listed: Volume IV (3 page)

They
went back into the house, and the heat inside swallowed Emily up. She really
wanted to go home. Now that the emotion was resolved, she felt shaky and
totally drained. It would be rude to leave the party early, though, since the Masons’
had planned it just for her.

She
told Paul she needed to go to the bathroom, and while she was there she
splashed some water onto her face to cool down and revive herself. They only
needed to stay another hour, and then they could go home.

When
she returned to the living room, she saw first thing that Paul was talking to Mrs.
Mason across the room. He was smiling, and it seemed to be sincerely, and Emily
was glad to see it.

Laura
came over to ask if she was all right. She thought maybe Emily had been upset
by what she’d said earlier.

Emily
had absolutely no energy for such a conversation. She tried to assure Laura she
was fine, but she was having trouble putting together an articulate sentence of
more than a few words.

She
couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her. Maybe the emotion had taken more
out of her than she’d realized. Maybe she was just tired from a long day. Maybe
it was just too hot in the room. She felt flushed, she was sweating a little,
and she felt like she was swaying on her feet.

Laura
was expecting her to respond to something she'd said, but Emily couldn’t even
remember what had been said.

She
took a few deep breaths and suddenly realized she needed to sit down. Her knees
felt like they were going to buckle. Her vision blurred over and then darkened.
She swayed forward. Would have fallen had strong arms not caught her around the
waist.

Emily
leaned against Paul, who must have pushed people out of the way to get to her
so quickly. He put a hand on her forehead, then on her cheek, then back on her
forehead. “Oh baby,” he murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She
blinked up at him blankly, having no idea what he was talking about. “Is
something wrong with me?” she asked, wondering why she couldn’t seem to stand
up without Paul’s support.

“You’ll
be all right.” Paul turned to Mrs. Mason, who must have followed him across the
room. “We need to get home.”

Mrs.
Mason nodded, her eyes full of sympathy and understanding. "She can lie
down here if she needs to."

But
Emily tried to pull away. “We can’t leave. The party’s not over yet.”

“You
have a fever. I don't know how it spiked so quickly.” Paul stroked her hair
back from her face. His other arm was still around her waist. “Thanks for
offer," he said to Mrs. Mason. "But I need to get her home.”

“Oh,
no,” Emily mumbled, realizing that feverish was exactly how she was feeling. A
surge of dread and disappointment overwhelmed her.

She
really didn’t want to have another fever. She’d been hoping to have sex with
Paul again when they got home, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen now.

Now
everyone at the party was looking at her like she was a freak, like she was an
object of pity, like she was on death’s door.

All
of which might be true.

She
knew she said goodbye to people and thanked the Masons’ for their hospitality,
but she couldn’t really remember any of the conversations.

Then
they were walking to the waiting car—or Paul was walking and Emily was
stumbling along, leaning on him.

They
must have gotten home, but Emily had no memory of it.

***

Emily’s body ached, and
she felt like she was trying to break through a thick fog of heat and pain as
she fought to open her eyes.

Before
she could do so, she felt something cool and wet stroke her face. “Paul,” she
breathed weakly. She wasn’t anywhere close to thinking coherently, but she
somehow associated the sensation of relief with that name.

She
managed to force her eyes open, fuzzily expecting to see a handsome, familiar
face and deep gray eyes.

Instead,
she saw a woman with a plain, square face and brown hair pulled back in a
single braid. “Sorry,” the woman said with a quick flicker of her lips. “Just
me.”

Amy.
Emily managed to connect a name with the face. “Hi, Amy,” she croaked, aware
enough now to realize that it would be rude to express brutal disappointment
over the fact that her nurse was tending her rather than her husband. “How are
you?”

“I’m
doing just fine—thanks for asking.” She wiped the damp cloth over Emily’s face
again and added, “He’s sleeping, but he said he was to be woken up if you need
him. Would you like me to get him?”

Emily
shook her head, wishing it didn’t ache so much, wishing she wasn’t so feeble.
Now that she was awake, she felt absolutely miserable. “He should sleep.”

She
had no idea what day or time it was, but she was certain Paul needed rest.

She
shifted in the bed, which she discovered was the big four-poster bed in the
master bedroom of Paul’s house in the neighborhood. The covers were pushed down
to her knees, something she’d probably done in her sleep. Since Amy was cooling
her off, Emily felt a little chilled, so she reached down to pull the covers up
again.

She
was wearing boxer shorts and a tank-top that she had no recollection of putting
on. Her hair was pulled into two, low ponytails, but she didn’t know how it had
gotten that way.

The
clock on the bedside table said it was 6:05 in the morning. Then the memory of
the previous evening—the Masons, Laura, getting struck by a sudden fever—came
rushing back into her mind.

She
groaned, as the full consciousness of what was going on made her body ache even
more.

“It’s
time for some pills,” Amy said briskly. “They should help you feel better.”

Willing
to do anything that might make her feel better, even raise her pounding head,
Emily let Amy help her up enough to swallow some pills with cool water.

“When
did you get here?” she asked, after she was able to drop her head again.

“An
hour or two ago. Your husband didn’t think you were fit to travel back downtown—which
was absolutely right—so he called to see if I could come out here instead.”

Emily
stirred restlessly under the covers, hoping the pills would take effect soon.
She didn’t really want to make conversation, but it was only polite to try. “It
was nice of you to come all this way.”

“It
wasn’t so far. Your husband even offered to send a car. I guess you all had a
bad experience with that other nurse the agency sent, and he didn’t want to
risk a stranger.”

Swallowing
back another groan at that memory, Emily managed to say, “I’m glad you came.” A
wave of heat washed over her, and she pushed down the covers again impatiently.
Then she realized that she was in Paul’s bed, in Paul’s room. “Where’s he
sleeping?” she asked, without any segue.

“In
one of the guest rooms. He’d stayed up with you until I arrived, and he looked
totally beat.”

Emily’s
eyes strayed over to the door of the bedroom, vaguely hoping to see Paul there.
She felt strange and disconnected—in the house that didn’t feel like home the
way the apartment did—and she wanted to make sure he was all right.

She
just wanted to see him.

“I
can wake him up,” Amy said mildly, evidently catching her gaze and interpreting
it correctly. She’d picked up the thermometer from the bedside table and
reached over to take Emily’s temperature. “He said I could wake him up for any
reason.”

Emily
shook her head. She wasn’t needy enough to allow Paul to be woken up just
because she missed him.

“Your
fever is starting to go up,” Amy said. “Do you feel up to taking a bath? I’d
like to keep your temperature down as much as we can.”

Emily
didn’t want to get out of bed. She didn’t want to take her clothes off. But she
was also feeling so sickeningly hot that she couldn’t stop wriggling. So she
said, “Okay.”

*
* *

Emily was so hot it
felt like she was smothering, like she couldn't suck any air down her lungs.

With
a surge of panic, she arched up and cried out instinctively for help. “Paul!
Paul!” It felt like she was screaming it, but her mouth and throat were too
parched to generate more than a broken gasp.

Then
wet coolness was being wiped over her face, and she took a shuddering breath of
relief. Then there was water at her lips, and she gulped it down desperately.
More coolness. More water.

Then
she was finally able to relax back onto her pillow. “Paul,” she breathed
hoarsely.

When
she opened her eyes, she fully expected to see her husband leaning over the
bed, cooling her down. She saw Amy instead.

In
spite of all the other aches in her body, she still felt a sharp pang of pain
in her chest as she wondered why Paul wasn’t here when she needed him.

Amy
pulled back the wet cloth she’d been wiping Emily’s face and neck with. “If
you’re all right for the moment, I’ll run get him for you.”

Emily
was aware enough now to think coherently, and she managed to shake her head,
despite how much she wanted Amy to do exactly what she’d offered. “No. Don’t.
I’m fine.”

“He’s
just down the hall in the library. It won’t take a minute.”

Emily
just shook her head again.

Amy
soaked the wash cloth in the bowl of ice water on the table beside the bed and
wrung it out with professional efficiency. “Are you sure? He said I was to get
him immediately if you needed him.”

“I
don’t need him.” Emily desperately wanted to see him but also desperately
didn’t want to be any more of a burden on him than she already was. “He needs
to catch up on work.”

Amy’s
brown eyes were uncharacteristically gentle. “I don’t know how much work he’s
actually getting done today. He’s really worried about you.”

Emily’s
face twisted with emotion, and she writhed on the bed.

“He
was in to check on you a little while ago,” Amy added.

It
seemed unfair that she kept missing his visits. It felt like she hadn’t seen
him in ages. “I didn’t know he was here.”

“You
were asleep. It’s the medication—makes you druggy. But that’s got to be better
than being wide awake and miserable.”

Emily
nodded, tossing her head on the pillow. It was much better this time, with
consistent doses of the good medicine Dr. Franklin had prescribed to her during
her last fever, but she hated feeling so out of it. And she hated not being
aware of Paul at the few times he was with her.

“Are
you up for another bath?” Amy asked, putting down the wash cloth and
straightening up. “Your fever spikes in the afternoon, and I don’t want it to
get any higher.”

Emily
didn’t feel up for anything, but she let Amy help her sit up on the side of the
bed. She breathed deeply to fight the waves of dizziness.

When
Amy returned from the bathroom, where she must have been drawing the bath,
Emily said, “At least I haven’t been delirious yet.” She tried to be grateful
for whatever she could so she wouldn’t feel sorry for herself.

When
Amy just helped her to her feet and didn’t answer, Emily asked, “I haven’t,
have I?”

“No.
You’ve talked in your sleep some, but that’s normal. You haven’t been truly
delirious.”

Emily
limped through the large bedroom, leaning heavily on Amy. When she got into the
bathroom, she was greeted to the soothing scent of lemon and eucalyptus. That
bath was still running, and the large tub was half filled. “I talked in my
sleep?” she asked, feeling a stab of anxiety. “What did I talk about?”

Amy
tsked her tongue and helped Emily pull off her tank-top and shorts. “Now don’t
be worrying about that. I’ve learned to not even pay attention in such cases,
since it’s just a lot of disconnected words and thoughts.”

“Was
I talking when Paul was in here before?” Emily asked, realizing she sounded
almost childish but absolutely incapable of doing otherwise. The idea of
babbling out her private thoughts in Paul’s presence was mortifying. Waves of
heat slammed into her, and she wasn’t sure if it was the fever or
embarrassment. “What was I saying?”

Assisting
Emily as she lowered herself into the tepid bath, Amy started to say something,
which Emily guessed was another attempt to brush off the subject. But maybe the
nurse could tell that it was going to fester in Emily’s mind if she didn’t
answer the question, because she paused, restarted, and said, “You were talking
about camping and
Anne of Green Gables
.”

That
didn’t sound too terrible, and Emily was able to relax as she stretched out in
the tub, the water blissfully cool against her hot skin. She breathed deeply
and closed her eyes.

When
she’d determined that Emily was all right, Amy left the bathroom and went into
the bedroom, probably to straighten up the room and remake the bed, which she
usually did while Emily was in the bath.

As
Emily’s body cooled down, it also started to ache more. She tried not to think
about feeling this way for three more months.