"One nice big bowl of chicken soup," said Piper, placing a tray with food on it in Phoebe's lap. "Made with my special secret ingredient."
"A healing potion?" Phoebe questioned.
"Love," said Piper. "Grams always said that was the best ingredient you could put in anything you make."
"Well, around here the phrase 'secret ingredient' can mean something altogether different," said Phoebe.
"You feeling any better?" Piper asked, putting her hand to Phoebe's forehead. "You're a little warm."
"I don't know," said Phoebe. "Yesterday I was just feeling out of sorts. This morning I actually feel sick. Maybe Prue is right. Maybe I should go see a doctor."
"Thursday at six," said Prue coming into the room and handing Phoebe a piece of paper. "Here's the address. I took the liberty of making you an appointment with my doctor. When you seemed to be worse this morning I figured it was best not to take chances. A lot of people don't know that the flu can be dangerous. Thousands die from it every year in the United States alone."
"Thanks, guy," said Phoebe. "You've both been so nice since I came back. Now all this. It's almost like Grams is still here."
"Well, you are our sister," said Piper, glancing at Prue. "We may fight like cats and dogs but we take care of each other. Now, you just rest and eat all the soup. I'll check in on you later."
"Thanks," said Phoebe.
"I'll take her to the doctor's office on Thursday," said Prue. "She really is beginning to look bad."
"Yeah," said Piper. "I know how she feels. Remember when I had the flu a few months ago? I thought I was dying."
"You should have gotten a flu shot like I suggested," said Prue.
"Every time I get one of those shots I get the flu," said Piper. "Besides, you know how I am about needles. I think I'd rather just take my chances."
"Suit yourself," said Prue. "Well, I'd better be getting to work. Mr. Buckland is on a rampage this week about something or other. Don't want to give him anything more to rant about than he all ready does."
"Okay," said Piper. "I'll call you if anything comes up."
"Whatever it is," said Prue, "let's make it mortal. With Phoebe down I really don't feel like fighting demons right now."
"I'll do my best," said Piper smiling at her.
"Well, now let's see what we have here," said the doctor, taking a seat at his desk.
He had all ready given Phoebe an examination and confirmed her suspicion. It looked like a case of the flu. When they had come into the office Phoebe noticed several other people in the waiting room with symptoms similar to hers. It didn't make her feel any better that she wasn't the only one suffering, though.
"Now," said the doctor, "I've given you two prescriptions. One is for an antibiotic. That should help with the infection."
"Infection?" questioned Phoebe. "I have an infection?"
"The flu is an infection," said the doctor. "That's why you have a low grade fever. A fever is the outward indications of an infection. Nothing to worry about. It's perfectly normal when you have the flu. Now, the second prescription is for a painkiller. It should help with the aches and pains normally associated with the flu."
"Anything else she needs to do, Dr. Phillips?" Prue asked.
"Just take it easy," said Phillips. "Get plenty of bed rest and drink plenty of fluids. Don't overexert yourself any more than you have to."
"No chance of that happening," said Phoebe. "I don't feel like I could do much anyway."
"Dr. Phillips," said Prue, "you seemed to do a lot of tests on Phoebe. More than I remember I took when I got the flu. Is there something else?"
"Probably not," said Phillips. "You know how doctors tend to be overly cautious. I just ran a few extra tests to rule out anything else it might be. I wouldn't be concerned too greatly about it. Usually these tests come back negative."
"Okay," said Prue. "Well, I should be getting Phoebe home."
"Make sure you get those prescriptions filled on your way home," said Phillips. "They'll start making her feel better soon. And call me if there's any chance in her condition. It may only be the flu but it could become aggravated. Best not to take any chances."
"We will," said Prue.
"You think he was telling the truth?" Phoebe asked as Prue drove them home. "About the extra tests, I mean?"
"Probably," said Prue. "I've seen seeing him for years. He was Gram's doctor, too. He's very good and he's right. Doctors tend to be overly cautious. I wouldn't worry about anything until there's reason to."
"Okay," said Phoebe. "I feel like I could sleep for a week."
"Well, once we get home," said Prue, "you can sleep all you want. We'll stop by the pharmacy on the way home. I'm sure the medication he prescribed will fix you right up."
"I hope so," said Phoebe. "Being sick is no fun."
Prue just smiled. Phoebe had changed somewhat in the six months she had spent in New York City. Before, she would have been complaining as fast as she could talk about being sick. Maybe little sister was finally growing up, Prue thought.
"Okay, Dr. Phillips," Prue said over the telephone as Phoebe was coming down the stairs still in her robe. "We'll have her there. Thanks for calling."
"Was that the doctor?" Phoebe asked.
"Yes," said Prue. "Those test you took the other day came back. He wants to see you the day after tomorrow to discuss the results."
"Really?" Phoebe questioned. "Why couldn't he just tell you the results over the phone?"
'"I don't know," said Prue. "He didn't sound very enthused."
"It's something serious, isn't it?" Phoebe questioned. "If it wasn't serious he'd have told you over the phone. If he wants me to come into his office it must be bad news."
"What must be bad news?" Piper asked, coming out of the kitchen.
"The doctor just called," Prue said. "He wants to see Phoebe about her tests results. And, Phoebe, don't go getting all worked up. There's no reason to think it's bad news just because he wants you to come in. Maybe he just wants to show you the results so you'll feel better."
"Really?" Phoebe asked. "You think that's what it is?"
"Probably," said Prue. "Now why don't you go back to bed? You need to get our rest."
"Okay," said Phoebe turning and going back up the stairs.
"You don't believe that, do you?" Piper asked Prue after Phoebe had gone back to her room.
"No," said Prue. "He did the same thing with Grams, remember? When he told her about her heart condition. Phoebe's right. If it were good news there would be no reason for her to come into the office. He could have told me."
"When is the appointment?" Piper asked.
"The day after tomorrow," said Prue, "at two o'clock."
"Okay," said Piper. "I'm going with you. I'll arrange for Myles to cover my shift."
"That might be a good idea," said Prue. "Something tells me Phoebe is going to need all the moral support she can get."
Piper went back into the kitchen to finish lunch. Prue sat on the living room sofa thinking about the phone call. Grams had tried to hide her heart condition from them. But Prue had found out about it. Grams wouldn't didn't want the girls to worry about. This time, Prue thought, they were going to be there to give Phoebe the support she might need.