Eric stared down at the clock on his computer screen. It was 12:00 noon and he was already wanting to call it a day. Sighing, he clicked off of the screen and glared at a stack of paperwork that seemed to be growing higher by the second. Why did he ever agree to take the athletic director position? So much more responsibility for not much more pay than what he had before this.
"Hon, you wanna go grab something to eat?" The voice of his wife startled him, but he was glad to see her walk around the corner. "Good to see you made it in to work. Were you late?" She sat down on the couch across from his desk.
"Yeah, a little bit. No big deal, we still got done what needed to be done." He paused and straightened some papers that were falling out of a manila folder. "Where did you want to eat?"
"I guess none other than the famous Alamo Freeze. I'm a little burned out on cafeteria food."
He grabbed his keys and sunglasses and followed her toward the Explorer. "Sounds good to me." Though deep inside, he wasn't hungry at all.
"What gives Eric? You haven't even touched your cheeseburger." Tami wiped her mouth with her napkin and replaced it back down into her lap. "Am I actually going to finish eating before you?"
Motioning to their waitress, he smiled and held his glass up. "Can I have another glass of water?" He turned back to Tami, his stomach churning like a washing machine at the sight of the greasy heaps of food in front of them. "I'm just not hungry."
Tami's stare made him feel self conscious so he sat back and folded his arms over his chest, trying hard to keep his cool. "Why does it matter if I'm not eating, Tami? Have you ever not been hungry?"
"Hon, I just made an observation. You just seem like you don't feel good lately, that's all. I mean, last night was odd. It's so unlike you to stop right in the middle…"
He put his hand up in front of him, stopping her before she could say more. "I don't want to talk about that." His voice was low and he adjusted the baseball cap on his head. "I think I'm just coming down with a cold or something. And no, I'm not going to go to the doctor so don't even suggest it." He grabbed his glass of water, the condensation dripping down his wrist as he took a long sip of the icy cold liquid, savoring it as it cooled him to the core. "I'll be fine."
"As long as it doesn't get out of hand."
He sighed and ran his hands over his face, feeling the stubble he had failed to shave off that morning under his fingertips. "What is the doctor going to tell me that I don't already know? Get some rest. Drink fluids. Take a few days off from work." He stopped himself, noticing how worked over he was getting.
"Uhh, he could give you medicine to help you get better for one thing."
Nodding, he reached for the check. "What a fun lunch this has been. You'd think my health was a fascinating subject." Sarcasm was thick in his tone as he stood up and threw some dollar bills on the table. "I'll be waiting out in the truck." He had regretted his outburst the moment it happened, but his pride didn't allow for him to turn around and apologize. Tami was just caring for him and he had blown it way out of proportion.
Eric wasn't sure what he wanted to do for practice. The sun beamed down on him as he weaved in and out of his players as they stretched and warmed up before their workout. A part of him wanted to just work with weights, but since Westerby would be there tomorrow it would be career suicide for him to not focus on the new plays he had drawn up.
His head pounded, and with each beat the pain accentuated down his neck and to his back. Even the backs of his eye sockets were sore from the discomfort within his skull. It felt like the beginning of a migraine and the four ibuprofen he had taken were not taking the ache away.
What would Coach McGill think if he went home early, leaving him to finish up the practice? It wouldn't be a good response from his staff, much less the fact that Buddy Garrity was in the stands along with some of the other boosters. He'd be reamed for sure.
"Gentlemen, let's get this done right so we can all go home." He grabbed a cup of water, drinking it down, missing the absence of his appetite. The last true meal he had was the night before when Tami made her meat loaf and he still felt full from it. "Riggins, call 'em out!"
Glancing down at his watch, he was caught off guard when McGill approached him. "You got somewhere to be, Coach?"
Eric shrugged. "No, why?"
"You keep looking at your watch."
Anger singed through Eric. "Maybe I'm just curious as to what time it is. What's it to ya anyway?"
"I was just making an observation." McGill walked away, mumbling something under his breath. Eric fought hard not to follow him and reprimand him in front of everyone and if it wasn't for the fact that he was feeling so horrible he probably would have.
Ducking his head, he stood in front of the team huddle, his eyes squinting through his sunglasses. They just weren't shielding the brightness enough. "What do ya boys say, we just run a couple of these new plays and hit the showers? I don't want you getting too tired before game day."
A few yes sirs could be heard throughout the crowd. "Okay then, let's get them right so we can get going. First string get up on the line." He caught a few glares as he walked back to the sideline. He swore he could hear a few snide comments as well, but they were inaudible and he couldn't be sure they were toward him. He knew wanting to let out early was out of character but he was to the point now where he didn't even feel like standing up.
Turning to Mac, he hunched over on a near bench. "You know these plays, right?" Of course he did, he was the offensive coordinator.
McGill nodded. "You alright?"
Eric ran his shoe through the white paint that marked the out of bounds area. He searched for an excuse but nothing came to mind. "I uhh…" He trailed off, eyeing his athletes that were not aware of his conversation with his assistant. "I think I'm going to head home. I'm not…" He didn't want to admit that he didn't feel good, but any idiot could tell that from the way he was acting. "I need to rest up for tomorrow. Can you take care of…"
Before he could finish, McGill cut him off. "Of course I can finish up. You think you should go to the doctor? Flu season is starting early they say. That's the last thing you need right now."
"Aw hell, Mac, it's nothin'. I just need to take it easy. I caught this before it got bad." He stopped himself, worrying about what the team would think about his early dismissal. "Just tell them I had a personal matter with the family."
"You got it, Eric."
It was only 3:45 when he got home which meant he had at least an hour to himself before the girls were home for the evening. Kicking off his shoes, he leaned over for a moment, almost too tired to even make it to his bed. He stared at it from the doorway for a moment, the mounds of blankets looking so comfortable.
It was so hot out that he tore his shirt off and stripped down to his boxers. The ceiling fan above him was running on low so he reached up at the chain and changed the setting to high. He fell backward into the middle of the bed, his eyes stinging as he squeezed them closed. He could smell the scent of Tami's perfume beside him, his mind racing to their conversation at lunch, and how she was pleading with him to see a doctor.
He grabbed the pillow and wrapped his arms around it, his body quickly jerking as he dozed off. A doctor. Tami knew him well enough to know that he hated doctors. He hated the waiting rooms with the annoying kids that ran around like chickens with their heads cut off as the parents sat and read magazines, ignoring the fact that their children were annoying the hell out of everyone else cramped in the small area. He hated the stupid paintings and posters up on the wall, put there to soothe the person that was about to be examined. Who were they kidding? The redundant sayings made him more angry than relaxed. And most of all, he hated sitting on the exam bed in the exam room with the same annoying posters plastered in his face.
What was the point of making an appointment with the office in the first place? He always arrived on time and still had to wait another hour just for the doctor to take one quick glance at him and tell him that he had a common cold and send him on his way.
His eyes jolted open and he quickly looked to the nightstand. It was 4:15 and he had probably slept all of five minutes. He tried to clear his mind from his frustrations but couldn't help but wonder what was truly going on with himself. He had been sick before, and never once did it drag him down this bad.
Moaning into the cotton sheet, he buried his face deep into the pillow and finally relaxed long enough to fall into oblivion.
"Jules, can you get Gracie out of her car seat? I've got a some groceries in the trunk I need to get out before the ice cream melts." She didn't notice Eric's truck in the driveway at first, but her stomach sank when she saw that he had beaten her home. He was never home this early, especially the day before a game.
"Mom, why is dad home?"
"I don't know, hon."
She strode through the entryway and put the ice cream and milk up. Still no sign of Eric. "Eric, are you here?" It was silent aside from Gracie and Julie in the living room. Peering into their bedroom, she saw his body sprawled out across the bed, his head under all of the pillows. "Eric?"
He didn't move at first so she sat down beside him, taking note to his near naked body. Sometimes he slept with just shorts on, but not in the middle of the afternoon with the chance of someone walking in on him. His breathing was deep and his nose whistled slightly as he exhaled. She ran her fingertips down his arm and over his chest, parting her lips as she said his name one more time, this time closer to his ear.
"Eric, hon? What time did you get home?"
He finally moved at her touch, his body shivering. "Tami?" His voice was thick and low. He didn't move his head out from under the bedclothes.
"Yeah. It's like 5:30. When did you get home?"
He lifted the top pillow off of himself and propped his head up with his hand. His appearance caught her off guard. His hair was shooting in every direction and his whiskers were much thicker and dark than she had thought they were at lunch. Maybe she just didn't notice. What scared her the most was how pale he looked. It was so unlike Eric to be so white in the middle of August. He tanned so easily and she had always envied his warm glow he obtained from just being outside for ten minutes. Right now he looked like a shut in.
"I got home around four or so. I left practice early." He slammed his head back into the mattress. "I thought I'd try and get some rest before the game before this cold gets out of hand."
She arched her eyebrow, her patience wearing thin. "A cold? Since when does a cold pull you away from work like this?" She stood up, throwing a pair of his sweats on the bed along with a T-shirt. "The girls are home, I suggest you get dressed."
He didn't move and his eyes were closed again. "Tami, what are you so mad about? Dammit, you should know I hate the stupid ass doctor! I'm not going!"
"How could you be so careless about your health?" She ran her hands through her hair, debating on leaving the room or staying there to argue with him about a lost cause. He could be so damn stubborn. "I need to go get dinner cooked. If you want to come see your family I suggest you put those clothes on and get your ass up."
She slammed the door behind her, wiping away a stray tear that had gathered in the corner of her eye. She knew something wasn't right and she hated the fact that Eric was denying it.
"Tami, I'm sorry. I'll see how I feel tomorrow. If things haven't gotten better, I'll make an appointment." He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She was cooking stew and normally his stomach would growl just at the sight of it, but it didn't look appealing to him. He'd have to choke some down to not worry her more. "I got some good sleep in today. I think that's all I needed."
Tami reached behind his head, her fingers streaming through his hair, her touch soothing his mild headache. "You do this every time you get sick. You let it get really bad before you do something. The idea is to catch it before it gets out of control."
He sat down on a barstool and stared down at the sports section of the Dillon Chronicle. There was much anticipation about the game tomorrow night, but he usually tried to stay away from media hype. "How much longer 'till supper?"
"It's actually ready. Can you set the table?"
He stood up, feeling the urge to drink down more water. No matter how much liquid he put away his tongue still felt like sandpaper.
Julie helped him set the plates and silverware out and to his surprise, he ate a decent meal. He skipped over the potatoes and carrots and picked out most of the meat, which caused a spat between he and Julie. Her favorite part was the meat as well, but he beat her to it, leaving a few scraps in the bottom of the pan. His body literally was craving it, and it felt so good to get something solid in his gut.
Thankfully, Tami didn't say much more about it the rest of the night, and he snuggled in beside her on the bed, his lips caressing the nape of her neck as his hands skimmed down the small of her back. "You forgive me for last night?" He buried his face in her hair that flowed over the pillow, the scent of fresh flowers relaxing him.
"I forgive you for last night. I'm just pissed that you could be so careless about your health."
"Dammit Tami, can we not talk about that?" He grabbed the TV remote, flipping the channel to the news. "It would be nice to go five minutes without you bringing it up." He pulled away from her. The TV wasn't interesting and judging by the silent treatment that Tami was giving him, she wasn't up for talking it out so he pulled the covers up over his head and instantly went to sleep. Something told him he probably wouldn't feel any better in the morning, but he definitely wouldn't tell her that.
