Paper Cranes (17 page)

A
fter Lee’s response, I felt bad for putting the thought in his head. We didn’t talk for several days as I was swamped with work and with Mardi Gras coming up. This year the New Orleans Saints would be on a float in one of the parades. At least I had hoped. I was calling everyone to see how I could make it happen. The only problem, this damn cold was holding me back. So much for not getting sick!
You lied Patricia!

Finally, I was at a point of exhaustion and needed to finish my day at home. Details would have to wait for now. Currently, I needed R&R and bad! My body ached, my head was on fire and all I wanted to do was sleep. The struggle to keep my eyes open was real and when I did shut them, they felt as if they would burn out of my head from the fever crawling across my skin.

Parts of my muscles hurt already, but with this cold, it was exasperated tenfold. No wonder Patricia asked me to keep myself healthy. In actuality this was the single worst feeling in the world right about now.

The shot hadn’t effected Jo in the least, which made me all the madder. She opted to stay later at work tonight in order to avoid the dangers of my contamination. Smart girl.

Just as I had curled up into a cocoon on the couch, flicking on trashy television, a text pinged through. I struggled to grab the device as I lowered the TV volume as if we’re going to affect my typing or something. It was very much like turning down the radio when you’re trying to find your targeted location. Not because GPS was talking, but as a gut reaction.

It was Lee. I had missed talking with him, but with the workload and cold, I was swamped. It wasn’t intentional, but by the time I crossed the threshold of the house, I would head straight to bed.

Lee:
You okay?

Me:
Hardly, I’m sick :(

Lee:
Is this a brush off or a seriously ill-timed joke from the other day?

Me:
Unfortunately, poorly timed joke. I think it was the flu shot.

Lee:
Even sick, you are hilarious. Hate to break it to you, but you can’t get sick from the flu shot, Dove.

Me:
I just needed an excuse, truthfully. I was swamped with work and failed terribly to take care of myself.

Lee:
I know work can get crazy, but YOU are your number one priority, especially now.

Me:
Are you trying to parent me?

Lee:
If that’s what it takes :)

Me:
Oh, okay. Well, I’m exhausted and need to rest. Can we argue about my poor attempt of keeping a healthy regime later?

Lee:
We aren’t arguing, mon Cher, but I will let you go rest. Sweet dreams.

I may have been a little harsh on Lee. I didn’t have the willpower to argue semantics though. One thing I could hope for were sweet dreams of Lee dancing behind my lids. Just as I was getting to the good stuff, watching Lee strip down to his skivvies, I was out cold from the drugs.

I must have been out for a while, because when I awoke, the sun was setting. I sat up, a little light headed. The throbbing in my head resembled knocking.
Wait.
That
was
knocking. I looked horrible and had no intention of getting off the couch in my tiny boxers and oversized t-shirt.

When the knocks became persistent, growing louder with each pound, I knew it was unavoidable. I had to answer the door.

I unlocked the massive door and flung it open, “WHAT. DO. YOU. WANT?”

Standing behind the door was a pajama clad Lee. Gripped in his hands was a bag of takeout, and a tangling plastic bag filled with mystery goods. My heart skipped a beat as my mouth failed to communicate my apologies.

“WOW, do you always answer the door like that? How rude,” he smiled, giving me a hard time.

“Sorry, I just woke up,” I said defensive.

“I’ll give you a pass this time since you aren’t feeling well. But next time, oh hell no,” he chuckled.

I felt rude not to invite him in, but I wasn’t even sure I wanted him to see me this way.

“Cute ‘jammies, Dove.”

“You too,” I giggle for the first time all day. “I’m digging the Thor PJ’s.”

“I felt it only appropriate, especially if you were wearing those cute little Wonder Woman panties,” he chuckled.

“Nice try. Unfortunately, your dreams are short lived. I think you would be highly disappointed.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” he smirked.

“Yeah, right!”

“Granny panties.”

“What?” I exclaimed.

“You are undoubtedly wearing granny panties. It’s the only logical answer.”

“Whatever, so what if they are of the granny variety. I’m sick, that warrants a pass on the sexiness.”

“I agree, just as long as you don’t make it a habit. I don’t want to be able to use them as a tent should push comes to shove.”

“Why would you say that? We are friends and as such, you are not allowed to see them regardless of our hypothetical outdoors adventures,” I smiled.

“Yeah. Okay,” he retorted.

“So…what’s in the bag?” I asked as I crash-landed on the couch.

Taking a seat next to me, “It’s my emboli survival kit.”

“Your what?” I laugh, feeling woozy from the act.

“My ebola survival kit,” he stated with such a straight face it was actually comical.

“You do realize I simply have a cold; no emboli here, Doctors Without Boarders.”

“Well, shit! I guess I better take this soup and bag of goodies home then,” he stood to leave.

I grabbed his arm, pulling him back to the couch. Lee opened up the brown paper bag, extracting two Rubbermaid containers. Filled to the brim with, what looked liked, homemade chicken soup.

“Courtesy of Rene and Lette at Frissons. They miss you by the way.”

“I miss them too. When I get better, we need to pay them a visit.”

“Consider it a….good hell, an outing,” he grinned.

I felt awkward on what to say, but instead said the stupidest thing imaginable, “So, what’s in the bag?”
How selfish did I sound?

Lee leaned over his bag of treasures, eyeing my prying eyes. Clutching the bag to his chest, he denied me of my surprise. Finally extracting an item, he tossed me several chick magazines – Empire Magazine, Cosmo and People. Nothing like fashion, sex and celebrity gossip.

“Every girl deserves a little trashy gossip,” he quirked.

“And they’re new too! I’m impressed, Daniels.”

“Also, I brought a few movies to keep us occupied,” he removed several chick flicks. Sweet Home Alabama, Pitch Perfect 1 and 2, Burlesque and my absolute favorite - Clue.

“That’s a lot of movies you got there.” I felt for Lee. What man in his right mind would sit through five rom-com movies and lived to tell the tail?

“Yeah, but I need to get you better so we can knock out more bucket list items. Besides, Mardi Gras is only days away. That’s a big task right there,” he stated as he stood to pop in Clue for us.

“And you think magazines and movies are going to speed up the process?” I chuckled.

“A good attitude is always the way to fight off any cold. Plus, Rene’s chicken soup will take care of the rest.”

“What’s so special about chicken soup?” I said. Cracking the lid of the carton, I took a whiff of the heavenly broth. There was definitely a strong aroma about it. Not the familiar smell I was accustomed to.

“What’s in this?” I asked as my eyes started to water. The pungent smell of garlic and cayenne pepper flooded my nostrils.

“Oh, just a little secret bayou recipe guaranteed to clear those sinus’ out quicker than you can say Friends,” he grinned. “Here I also got you a special spoon to help.”

Lee had read my mind. I was beginning to worry if I was going to be able to eat soup in front of him without looking like a total fool. It was already difficult to cut, and shovel food, but soup was another beast all together. My hand would shake at just the right angle, precisely when I rotated my wrist to feed myself.

Lee’s gift was a Godsend. He had actually purchased me an adaptive spoon so I wouldn’t have to rotate my wrist to each soup. This would be so minor to anyone else, but for me, it was incredibly thoughtful.

“You’re lucky I have zero strength to fight you on that,” I stated as I removed the spoon from the plastic wrapper. Dipping the spoon into the soup, I blew over the contents before placing it on my tongue. As bazaar as it may seem, the concoction was amazing. Lee was right too. The broth alone did wonders for my head, clearing my passageways enough to breathe through my nose and not my mouth for once.

“Pretty good, huh?”

“Don’t let this go to your head, but yes, it’s pretty good.”

“If you’re a good girl, you can even have some of my grilled cheese sandwich.” The words just rolled off his tongue like honey – so natural.

“Is that so?” I bantered. Even sick, I could still flirt, “And if I’m not good?”

“You can’t say things like that, Dove,” he glanced at me as he ceased unwrapping the still hot sandwich.

“Then don’t set yourself up for answers you don’t want to hear. Besides, I was only joking,” I said, trying to recover as if it really were a joke.

“Just making sure. Here, open up,” he offered me a bite of grilled cheese as I finished my soup in its entirety.

“I thought I was going to have to force feed you,” he bulked as he gobbled the rest of his sandwich.

“I was starving. I haven’t really had a decent meal in days. That hit the spot,” I stated as I leaned back on the couch. Patting my tummy, I rubbed my illusive food baby. “Is baby happy?”

“Do you normally talk to your stomach like that?” He laughed, wiping his crumbed lips.

“Sure, why not. Just as long as she doesn’t talk back, I think we are good.”

“You are, by far, the weirdest human being on the planet.”

“Oh hush! Push play so we can see who killed Mr. Boddy. I predict Colonel Mustard, with the wrench, in the library.”

“Did you honestly just tell me the end of the movie?” He looked genuinely upset.

“I don’t know, let’s find out. Besides, there are three different endings. Wait, have you never seen this movie?”

“The selection seemed quirky, like your personality, so I took a chance.”

“What’s your prediction then?” I giggled.

Grabbing my feet, he placed them in his lap. Without being asked, he began rubbing my aching feet.

“I predict that it will be Miss. Scarlett, with a gun, in the study.”

“We’ll see about that,” I winked.

Lee scrunched my toes as we settled in for the hour and a half movie. Each scene was accompanied by gasps and giggles as the classic whodunit hilarity ensued. I hadn’t seen the movie in so long, but still loved the all-star cast of witty comedians. No one made movies like these anymore. It was a shame really.

As the plot unfolded, the banter wrapped up with the ever-famous “One plus two plus one plus two” scene – my personal favorite. The triumphant horns tooted the entrance of the Chief as Miss. Scarlett is apprehended by Wadsworth.

“Frankly, Scarlett, I don’t give a damn,” Lee and I said in unison.

“So you
have
seen this movie!” I screeched.

“It just so happens to be one of Jackson’s favorites as well. That, or he just likes it for Yvette the maid. That outfit really doesn’t cover much at all,” he joked.

“You sneaky little bugger!” I gently nudge his hand. “Where is Jackson now, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind you asking about him at all. He’s at a sleepover with one of his preschool friends. He’s very independent for his age. As much as I want to keep him little for as long as I can, he’s growing up so fast.”

“What is he like, Jackson, I mean?” I could feel I was tip-toeing across thin ice by asking this.

“He’s amazing. He’s incredibly self-reliant and a pistol, way more than I was at his age,” Lee beamed as he spoke of his son.

“Go on. I like hearing you talk about him.”

“He loves to chat your ear off, much like his dad. Oh, God, and so fearless. This one time we were riding bikes toward Girl Scout Lake and he took off down a pretty steep slope. I could see it happening in slow motion. His wheels kicked up underneath him, sending him down the steep hill virtually sideways. He caught himself just before the ridge dropped off into the lake. Scared the shit out of me. Guess what he said when I finally got to him?”

“What?” I grinned, waiting in anticipation.

“Can we do it again?”

“No he didn’t. You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I chuckled.

“Can you believe that? Even scraped up from head to toe, the little bugger wanted to do it all over again.”

“Sounds like he’s headstrong just like his dad.”

“We just don’t give up on what we want.”

Shying away, I couldn’t tell if it was the fever or my blushing that sparked a heat to course though my body.

“I think his wants and yours are two totally different things,” I laughed feeling ten times better.

“True. He wants a puppy and I… I want a lot of things I can’t have.”