The Seacroft: a love story (Paines Creek Beach Book 2) (9 page)

He obeyed, but didn’t open his eyes.

It beeped and she read the display with concern. One hundred and two point three.

“You need something to get that fever down.”

He shook his head. “Can’t drink. Can’t keep anything down.”

“We’ve got to try. Let me pour you just a little bit of this Sprite. You can take two Tylenol now, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll get you into a cool bath.”

He let her help him sit up, holding his ribs as if they ached and wincing when he moved. Reluctantly, he sipped the soda, swallowing the pills with difficulty.

“You’re sore from throwing up, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He slid back down on the bed, shivering now. “Cold. So cold.”

“Here.” She took the comforter off the floor, shook it out, and spread it over him. Later she’d bring him a fresh one and wash this one in hot water. Maybe twice. “There you go. Is that better?”

He fell asleep in minutes. While he rested, she brought him a damp, cool washcloth and laid it on his brow.

She peeked into the bathroom, stopping short in the doorway. “Oh, gross.” She held her breath, threw open the window, and switched on the overhead fan. Breathing through her mouth now, she packed all the dirty towels into a garbage bag and tossed them out into the hallway. She hung a few clean towels on the rack, and scoured the sink and toilet with cleaners and a brush she found beneath his sink cabinet.

“Better,” she said, able to breathe normally now. The fixtures sparkled, and after checking that he was still asleep, she found a mop and swabbed the floor.

Next she tackled his kitchen. It was clear the man didn’t eat much healthy food, and that he had a penchant for Dinty Moore beef stew. In twenty minutes she’d rinsed and recycled all the cans, washed his dishes, and run a mop over the kitchen floor.

“Much better,” she whispered to herself.

When Cody groaned and rolled from side to side, kicking off his comforter, she hurried to him.

“I can’t breathe,” he said, perspiration popping on his brow. “It’s so hot in here.”

He hadn’t visited the bathroom since she’d arrived, and she hoped that maybe his intestinal problems were over. Perhaps he’d drink a little? He needed to avoid dehydration. That she’d learned from her brother when he’d been sick after his radiation and chemo treatments.

“Can you manage to drink a little, Cody?” She filled a glass with ice and Sprite, bringing it to his lips. “Just try for me, okay?”

He lifted his head and took a sip, then lay back down on his pillow. “Tastes good.”

“I’d like to change your bedding. Would you be okay with that?”

“I can’t get up,” he said softly.

“No worries. I know how to do it with you right there in bed. I had to do this for my brother, so I’m pretty good at it.”

He gave her a feeble smile. “Okay.”

In ten minutes, she had the bed sheets changed. “There you go. Nice and clean again.”

“Except me. I must stink,” he said, reaching for the glass of soda. His hand shook, and he dropped back to the mattress.

“Let me help you.” She lifted the glass to his lips again, and this time he took a long swig.

She sat with him, making small talk—mostly on her part—while he dozed and woke repeatedly. He felt cooler now, and his cheeks showed more color.

“How about a little soup? Think you could handle that?”

He tried to sit up and opened one eye. “I’d rather clean up first. I feel so gross.”

“You’re still weak, Cody. How about I bring you a damp towel? We can give you a little sponge bath in bed.”

He closed his eyes again and flopped back on the pillows. “Okay.”

She took two clean facecloths from the bathroom, wetted both with warm water and one with soap, and brought them along with a dry bath towel into the bedroom. “Here we go.”

Memories of her brother lying in bed flooded back to her, and it was all she could do to keep from crying. She was thankful that Cody was so out of it, and busied herself wiping down his face, chest, arms, and legs. It wasn’t his whole body, but she didn’t want to overstep her bounds.

Suddenly, he clutched one of her hands. “Thank you,” he murmured, as if she’d just saved his life.

“Would you like to brush your teeth?” she asked. “I can bring you a basin.”

He shook his head. “Can you help me to the bathroom? I’d rather do it there.”

It took them ten minutes to get him sitting up so the room didn’t spin, and to shuffle across the floorboards to the bathroom. She set him up with his toothbrush with toothpaste already squeezed onto it, and left the room to give him a little privacy when he indicated he needed to urinate.

“You okay in there?” she asked when he’d been quiet for a minute.

No answer.

She gently opened the door, and found him sitting on the closed toilet seat leaning against the wall. He’d fallen asleep again.

“Come on, big guy.” Slowly, they walked back to his room, and she gently lowered him onto the fresh sheets.

“Thank you,” he said again.

She leaned over to kiss his forehead, without realizing what she was doing. He smiled, and she relaxed. He wouldn’t take it the wrong way. It just seemed like the thing to do.

“I’m going to throw your stuff in the wash,” she said, gathering up everything, including the comforter. “I’ll bring back a clean blanket for you, and whatever else you need. Back in a jiffy.”

“Mmmff.” His head lolled to the side and he began to breathe regularly.

She covered him with a sheet, smiled at her patient, and quietly backed out of the room.  

Chapter 15

Cody woke in his bed, inhaling the aroma of outdoors on his pillow. It reminded him of his childhood, when his mother would hang the sheets on the clothesline. He loved that smell. Rolling over, he pulled the covers higher and suddenly frowned.

Wait a minute. How did the sheets get changed?

It came to him in a flash.

Vivian.

That sweet girl had been tending to him all day. He heard rummaging in the kitchen, the clang of a pan, and running water.

“Viv?” he said, propping himself up on his pillows. “Is that you?”

She poked her head into the doorway with a smile. “It’s not the Easter Bunny.”

He choked a hoarse laugh, groaned, and grabbed his ribs, flopping back on the bed. “Oh. Please. Don’t make me laugh.”

“I’m sorry.” She walked to his side and fussed with the bedclothes. “Your soup is ready when you are. Just give me the heads up and it’ll be hot in a few minutes.”

“Wow. I don’t deserve this,” he said, watching her move skillfully around the bed to tuck in the corners. “Why are you so good to me?” The room seemed to swim, but he tried to stay focused.

“I couldn’t let you die in here. You were a wreck, Cody.”

He chuckled again, wincing. “Ow. That hurt. But you’re right about one thing. I felt like I was gonna die. For real.”

“Your fever’s down a bit,” she said, leaning over to lay her hand over his forehead. “I think the Tylenol helped.”

“My throat’s so dry,” he said, reaching for his glass of Sprite.

She grabbed it and brought it to his lips before his quaking hand could achieve the task.

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and downed half the glass, flopping back on his pillow. “Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome. You know, I’m kind of used to this job, anyway.”

He glanced up at her, and felt his heart break. “Oh. God. Your brother, right?”

One tear slid down her cheek. “Right.”

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to hang around me, you know. It’s okay.”

She sat on the side of his bed. “No, it’s okay. I kind of like it. Makes me feel useful.”

He watched her face, so humble and unassuming.
She really is a very pretty girl.
“You’re so much more than just useful,” he said, meaning it from his heart. “You’re smart, patient, and sweet.” Normally he wouldn’t be so open with his thoughts, but today, with his head still fuzzy from the fever, he just let it all out.

Her cheeks turned a rosy pink color, and she glanced down at her hands. “No I’m not.” She sighed. “Well, maybe I’m patient. I can deal with our boss pretty well.”

In spite of the soreness in his stomach, he laughed. “You sure do.”

“Speaking of which,” she said, glancing at her watch, “she wanted me to come get you this morning. Something about washing cars.”

He sighed. “Oh my God. Really? On my day off?”

She nodded. “Uh huh. And she went a little bit crazy, too. Throwing things and yelling for a few hours.”

“What? Why?” In his mind, he pictured her furious with him for not showing up in her bedroom last night. He knew he was expected, but he’d been too damned sick to care.

“Her husband canceled his trip home again.”

“Really? Again?”

She frowned, looking thoughtful. “I still wonder about that. The whole thing about him not showing up for ten years straight is kind of odd.”

“It is.” He watched her for a while, feeling drowsy, then reached out a hand to hers. “About yesterday. I wanted to apologize.”

She flushed again and shifted her glance away from his, saying nothing.

He went on. “I mean, I was a jerk. I practically jumped you. I don’t know what came over me. I mean, I know,” he rambled. “You just looked so gorgeous, so perfect, so damned sexy… ”

She lifted her eyes and stared at him with a haunted expression.

“I mean. I’m an idiot,” he mumbled. “I acted like a sex-crazed teenager.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“I hope I didn’t scare you too much.”

“Um. Well, I haven’t had much experience with men. That is,” she sighed. “I’ve had only one boyfriend. We only were close, um, a few times. I probably overreacted to you. I’m sorry, too.”

He stared at the delicate creature in front of him. “So, you’re practically a—”

She nodded. “Practically. Embarrassing, but true.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed. It’s a good thing.”

Before she could reply, her phone buzzed. She slid it out of her pocket and rolled her eyes. “It’s the boss.” She shot him a rueful smile.

“Guess you’d better answer her,” he said. “And tell her I’m sorry. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

She smiled at him and swiped the screen. “Uvi?”

Chapter 16

Vivian felt a mixture of guilt and annoyance, but tried to use her sweetest voice when she answered.

Uvi sounded furious. “Vivian. Where did you disappear to?”

Viv walked out of the bedroom and lowered her voice. “Um. I found Cody. He’s sick as a dog. Could barely walk when I got here. But he’s doing better. I gave him some—”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“It’s a stomach flu with a fever. Really bad news.”

Uvi seemed to soften a little with the news. “I see. Will he be okay?”

As if you care.
“I think so. His fever’s come down a little. I’m making him some soup now.”

“Really? I thought you couldn’t cook.”

“No, I really can’t. This is from a can.”

“Oh.” She seemed to lose interest. “Is his phone working? I’ve tried to call him all day.”

Vivian had powered down Cody’s cell in anticipation of this. Now she was glad she’d done it. And why the hell was Uvi so obsessed with Cody all of a sudden? “I think his phone’s dead, needs a charge.”

“Well, please see that it’s plugged in. I can’t be walking all the way over there tomorrow to give him his ‘to do’ list.”

Of course not, that would be too much to ask, wouldn’t it?
“He may not be better by tomorrow. If he’s still sick, do you want him to call you?”

“Of course. I need him to stay in close touch.”

“Okay.”

“I could use your help over here, Vivian. My room’s a mess.”

“It’s still Sunday,” Viv said, shocked at her own boldness.

“Argh! Why are you so fixated on having days off? I need you when I need you.”

Vivian didn’t respond.

“All right. Tomorrow morning, nine sharp. You show up in my room with the dustpan and broom. Got that?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Viv said the “ma’am” part on purpose, knowing Uvi hated it. She was getting sick of kowtowing to this demanding woman.

“And don’t call me ma’am. You know I hate that.” Uvi abruptly hung up.

Vivian snorted a laugh and went back into Cody’s room.

“That bad?” he said with a crooked smile.

“Yes.” She settled on the edge of the bed again. “She wants you to call her if you’re not better tomorrow. And apparently she’s been trying to get hold of you all day.”

He rolled his eyes. “Crap.”

Viv pointed to his phone on the bureau. “I powered it off so you wouldn’t have to hear from her. I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s perfect,” he said. “I honestly couldn’t deal with Mizz P’s neediness today.”

Viv smiled. “That’s what I thought. Now. You ready for that soup?”

“Sure.”

He gave her a million dollar smile, and she thought she’d melt on the spot. Her knees literally wobbled, and she laughed at her body’s bizarre response. Why was he so darned good looking? And why did her body react that way to someone she barely knew?

She heated up the chicken noodle soup and brought it in on a bed table she’d found under the sink, with crackers and more soda with ice. “Here you go. Be careful, it’s really hot.” She placed it across his lap and backed off, choosing to sit in a chair by the window this time.

“Thank you. This is what my mom used to make me when I was sick as a kid.”

“That must’ve been nice.”

“Yeah. Didn’t your mom make soup for you?”

Vivian couldn’t help it, but the mention of her mother brought her to tears. She tried to hold it back, but the sobs erupted and she turned her back to him and buried her face in her arms. “Yes, of course.” She convulsed a bit more, then the weeping slowed. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Viv?” He stayed in bed, pinned by the tray with hot soup balanced on top. “What’s wrong?”

She wiped at her cheeks, trying to collect herself. “I loved my mom, she was great when I was little. I just… I miss her.”

“I didn’t know,” he said softly. “When did she pass?”