This is another really fluffy kind of thing that just kinda melts me. Enjoy.
12 Winter, Year 3
Flu
I wake up with a heavy head, dry mouth and throat, stuffed nose, and feeling generally miserable. I'm not worried about that – it's happened before, it'll pass like it always does.
For a moment I wonder what it is I'm hearing, and then I realize it's knocking. On wood. The door.
I don't respond.
"Evan?Are you in there?" Harvey's voice.
I sigh. He's going to be worried, of course. What's he gonna think if he can't find me at the farm? It's winter and he hasn't seen a sign of life from me for three days. He's going to get himself all dirty if he tries going into the stables, and he might just get really worried.
"Yes. Don't come in."
No response for a few seconds. Then the front door opens and closes. Footsteps coming closer. Then the one to my room cracks open too.
"You are aware," Harvey starts, "that as a medical professional, I am obligated to take flu shots every year?"
"Do those also include colds? Because I don't know which one it is."
"Do you have a fever?"
"Don't have a thermometer."
"You don't... How do you live without a thermometer? Do you have muscle aches?"
"No."
"Headache?"
"Yes."
"Sore throat?"
"No."
"That's a flu." Without further ado, Harvey comes in. "Half the village is under, currently."
He sits down on the edge of the bed and feels my forehead.
"And you don't need to be at the clinic?"
"I didn't hear a peep from you for three days. You could have died for all I knew."
This is accurate, I have to admit.
"Sorry. I didn't want to worry you... Or infect anyone else."
"I do believe you have a fever," Harvey says, undisturbed. "Do you have anything at all in this house that could be construed as medicine?"
"There's a weeping willow at the bridge to the forest."
"Excuse me?"
"Willow bark. Salicylic acid." In other words, paracetamol, straight from nature.
"Right. Please tell me you haven't been going outside."
"The animals don't feed themselves. I feed and milk the cows, feed the chickens and get the eggs, and then I go back inside. And there's heaters in their buildings so I'm really only exposed to the cold on the way there."
"Well. I would suggest you ask Marnie for help, but she's in it too, and older than you, so I guess there's no alternative. Just be careful... dress warm, keep your throat warm, and don't spend any more time outside than absolutely necessary. Please."
"Believe me. I don't want to be outside my bed."
"Have you been eating?"
"Trying to."
"Please elaborate."
"I have a lot of tea, and I finished the bread I had today... I'm eating mainly stuff I don't need to cook, cheese, I boiled some eggs to keep in the fridge, I have a stack of apples and a couple pomegranates left over..."
"Alright. It's not ideal but it's better than what some other people would have done. Look, I'm going to go get some supplies. You stay here."
"You don't need to do that. I'll be fine, there's a bunch of other stuff you can catch from trudging back and forth through the slush."
"The same goes for you. If you really need to go outside every day in this weather, I'm more concerned with preventing you from developing a full-blown pneumonia. Especially if you're not going to come get help."
"I don't need... pills, I'm young, I just have to sweat it out."
"Evan." Harvey pauses a moment, maybe to get as much of my attention as I'm currently capable of giving. "Some 60 years ago, there was an influenza pandemic that swept across the world and killed some 10 percent of the population. Of the world. And the patients who turned out to be most likely to die were the category between 20 and 25 years of age. In the disturbance caused by all this, some people were only found days or weeks after dying in their houses. You can never know what's going to kill you, and it can absolutely be a 'stupid flu'." His voice and volume are rising. "Just now while I was walking over here I was terrified of finding you somewhere out in the snow or something. At least let me know!"
"Okay. Okay. I'm sorry. I should've realized you'd be worried. I figured it would be better for everyone involved if I spent as little time as possible outside, but I get what you mean."
"I'm personally very in favor of taking you home with me right now."
"No, no, please don't do that. You want to give me pills, you go right ahead, just... don't make me get up. Any more than necessary."
Harvey sighs.
"Alright. I'm going to get you a refill on this," he picks up my empty mug, "and then get supplies. Do you have food that can be cooked?"
"Everything I own is in the freezer boxes, outside 'round the back of the house, and in the fridge. I have a bunch of eggs and milk, I'm not taking the time to make cheese and stuff right now."
"Good."
Harvey takes the mug to the kitchen, and the next thing I know I'm waking up and there's no one in the house but the mug is back on my night stand, steaming.
I hoist myself up onto my elbow to blow my nose for the fiftieth time today and take a sip. I can't taste anything, but the hot liquid feels good in my throat and stomach.
I doze off again, and wake up to noise in the kitchen. I reach for my handkerchief to relieve my stuffed nose, have another sip of lukewarm tea and call out.
"Harvey?"
"Just a minute," he answers, and appears in the door a little later.
"You're not... actually cooking, are you?"
"Can you smell it?"
"No, but I know the sound of my pots. You didn't need to do that."
"I want to. Let's just leave it at that. Now, I brought a few things." He reaches over to the nightstand and picks up a thermometer I hadn't even noticed.
"Oh. Er... Where do I put it?"
"In your mouth." He pushes a button and the thing beeps. I accept it, pop it into my cake hole and lie back. "Let me know when it beeps," he says, and goes back to the kitchen.
I dutifully comply. The thermometer says 103.8.
"Okay, so you're taking this," Harvey tells me, and grabs a bulky black bag out of the corner between my night stand and the wall.
"You actually brought the whole thing."
"That way, even if I don't think about bringing something, I'll have it." He pulls out a pill bottle. "Here."
I take one of the pills with a gulp of tea.
"Anything else, doctor?"
"As soon as I'm done with your food."
"I'm getting really curious now."
"It's a simple beef stew. I'll do more of an effort some other time when you'll be able to appreciate it."
"Very intelligent."
"So I'm going to finish that off now. Holler if you need anything."
"Thanks, Harvey."
He waves me away and disappears through the door again.
I wake up to Harvey's weight on the mattress next to me.
"You're going to want to sit up for this," he warns, and then I notice a steaming bowl of soup in his hands... and a plate with two thick slices of some dark bread on it.
"You even brought bread?" I push myself up and backward to sit against the headboard.
"What's stew without bread?"
"Granted. I haven't had the chance to bake bread these days," I admit.
"You bake your own bread?"
"Oh, yeah. It's easy, really. If you've been cooking I'm sure you've come across my starter." I try a spoonful of the stew. "Hmmm, delicious," I gush.
"You wouldn't know," Harvey answers dryly. "Do you mean the jar with the... weird-smelling mass inside? I was planning to ask about that."
"Yeah. It's a yeast starter. I feed it every day, and when I'm going to bake bread, I add a bit of that stuff. It's easier than buying new yeast for every bread."
"And you learned that how?"
"Cooking program on TV."
"You watch cooking shows?"
I shrug, chewing a piece of meat.
"I never really learned how to cook at home. My sister was always in that spot and I felt in the way. Now... I don't cook, I don't live. So yeah. I'm learning."
"I was always told making bread is an exact science and it goes wrong so easily."
"It does. I did something wrong with the starter in the beginning and I had to try with regular dry yeast a few times just to get a feel of what the dough is supposed to feel like and stuff. But at least the flour is free for me."
"Okay. Tell me about it later. Eat first. Sorry."
After I finish the stew and my tea, Harvey takes the bowl and my mug away and comes back again with new tea.
"Well, at least I'm not getting dehydrated today."
"That's the goal."
"Thank you, Harvey. I mean really. I know that you're the doctor and you don't want me to die and all that, but... Cooking and everything... I mean, it means a lot to me. Really. I'm really glad with your company, though I can't really appreciate it much right now."
Harvey puts a hand on my leg.
"You're very welcome. Now, you should sleep... and I should get back. Do me a favor and take your temperature again."
The thermometer now reports a solid 101.
"That should be fine. Eating raises the core temperature a little bit, but the pill is working. Now, I made a big pot of this stew. I couldn't find any containers to keep it in so I put the pot in the fridge."
"I tend to use the big mason jars. Trying to avoid plastic."
"Oh. Alright. Well, you should be okay with food for today and probably tomorrow, and I'll be coming back every day."
I refrain from telling him not to.
"Thank you. I'd... really like to hug you, but I guess I shouldn't stick my germs all over you. For the sake of others."
He takes my chin between two fingers, turns my face away slightly and gives me a peck on the cheek.
"Nobody's going to pick them up from there," he says.
"Aww, I'm going to melt."
"Take care of yourself, okay?"
"Should be a piece of cake with your help."
