Getting Burned: Part 2
"What are we supposed to do?" asked Farid.
Upstairs, a feverish silvertongue was shivering, feverishly under her covers. Downstairs, a fire eater and his apprentice were sitting at the kitchen table trying to figure out exactly what to do with her.
"Back in the Inkworld, many of the strolling players got a sun sickness during the summer. The physicians would use herbs to cool the skin, but I can't remember their names. Surely you're familiar with these types of burns." Dustfinger said, his fingers idly playing with a matchbox.
"No. I remember the burns but never any sickness." he replied.
Dustfinger looked at Farid. He sometimes forgot that Farid had been in love with Silvertongue's daughter, it was so long ago. Occasionally he caught a glimpse of that old spark between them, like last winter when Meggie had tripped down the stairs, twisting her ankle so badly she was laid up in bed. Farid had been more than happy to play the roles of butler and messenger. Nowadays, for the most part, they were more like siblings than anything else.
"Well I suppose we should take turns sitting with her to make sure she doesn't get worse." Dustfinger responded. "And I suppose I should call her parents and let them know how their daughter is."
It was only when he heard Farid climbing the stairs that he reached for the phone and the card with Mo's number. Dialing the number, he held his breath. Normally Mo was very easygoing however when it came to his daughter's health and well being...
"Hello?" Mo's voice asked over the phone.
"Hello." Dustfinger said awkwardly.
"Dustfinger?" his voice sounded nervous. Dustfinger didn't just idly pick up the phone to chat. The modern technology still foreign to him. "Is everything alright? Where's Meggie?"
"She's fine. Everything's fine." Dustfinger paused. "Well for the most part."
"What do you mean?" Mo asked sternly.
"She's sick. It's sun sickness." Dustfinger explained. "Before you get all worked up she's lying down and other than a fever she seems to be alright."
'Except for the vomiting and the chills and the pain.' he thought, wincing. Despite what others might think, he didn't like to lie to Silvertongue, but he knew Meggie would hate it if her parents came home to baby her. The girl could be independent to a fault.
"Should we come home?"
"You know as well as I do that if you come home early she'll be upset. Farid and I can make sure she's fine. She can take care of herself."
"I suppose so." Mo sighed. "There's aspirin in the cabinet above the bathroom sink and- what is it Resa? Resa says that there's lotion- ah yes, there's aloe lotion in there too. Should help with the pain from the sunburn."
"Alright."
"Thank you."
Dustfinger hung up and sighed. The sound of Meggie vomiting again prompted him to go to the refrigerator and look for a water bottle. He found one in the back, behind the jam jar. He climbed the stairs and made his way to Meggie's room. Farid was holding her hair back with an expression of mild disgust on his face as Meggie wiped her mouth with a tissue. There was a bottle of mouthwash next to her and she rinsed her mouth out with it, spitting it into the bucket. Dustfinger told Farid what to get out of the cabinet and Farid nodded, looking relieved to be able to get away from the sick girl.
"Here." Dustfinger handed Meggie the bottle and she cringed when she moved her arm. "How are you feeling?"
"Gross." Meggie groaned. "Sore. I've never had a sunburn this bad before."
Farid came in an handed Meggie the aspirin. She dumped two in her hand and handed the bottle back. Meggie looked thankful and her could see his hand lingering on her arm just a little too long for his comfort.
'Stop it, Dustfinger. Why do you feel so protective of her? Have the years under this roof made you soft?'
After they ate dinner, Dustfinger was very good at heating up soup, Farid went to sleep and Dustfinger sat in the armchair by the window. Meggie hadn't gotten sick again but he wanted to keep an eye on her. After a while Meggie gave a groan of frustration and reached for the lotion, grunting in pain when her movements hurt too much.
"Not the smartest idea, huh?" Dustfinger asked, chuckling.
"It itches when I'm still and burns when I move. Can you put some of this on my arms?" Meggie asked. Dustfinger nodded but his mouth felt curiously dry. What was the problem?
"Your mother said it would help." Dustfinger said idly, sitting on the edge of the bed. When he felt Meggie's eyes on him he paused. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Do you still love my mother?" she asked.
"What?" he exclaimed, startled.
"I see the way you look at my mother sometimes." Meggie reasoned. "I was just wondering."
"Do you still love Farid?" he asked in reply.
"You're dodging the question." She laughed, but the expression didn't quite reach her eyes. "I think the way we feel someone, it never really goes away. Sometimes I think I still love him, yes. But I know that we can't live in the past."
Dustfinger laughed ruefully. "I've spent most of my life living in the past, princess."
Without warning, Meggie leaned up and pressed her lips to his scarred cheek, then to the corner of his mouth. Dustfinger turned and pressed his lips to hers. Her lips were chapped and some of her hair had gotten caught in between them and they were both frozen with shock at what they were doing. It was the most awkward kiss either of them had experienced but it felt somehow right; exactly as it was supposed to be. They pulled back from each other and stared. Then, without another word, Meggie turned and vomited.
