Many thanks to TeenyTinyIrishPerson for beta reading.
We had gone mostly unscathed through the winter only for Sam to catch a nasty flu in early March. The full package: fever of 38.8°C, headache, sore throat, pain in the limbs, coughing, sneezing, her red nose a slimy waterfall.
I had asked her this morning if she wanted anything to keep her busy: her tablet, something to read, her phone... I even jokingly offered to carry the TV into her room. But she just grunted spiritlessly and shook her head, wincing and clutching her temple immediately after that movement. A heart-breaking contrast to her usual, joyful self. I couldn't leave her alone like this, so I'd taken a few days off from work. I'd made a trip to the chemist and supermarket with a stop at a book store when she'd taken a nap around midday.
I just entered her room with a glass of fruit juice for her when Sam blew her nose, opened the hanky and stared into it making a disgusted noise. Frowning, she whispered in a hoarse voice: "Who you gonna call?" Looking at the handkerchief-filled dustbin close by, she added: "I bet I can power Vigo up all by myself." Groaning, she threw the wadded tissue, but it missed the bin joining all the other hankies scattered on the floor.
As I put her drink on the night table, Sam lay back in her bed again and pulled the duvet up to her chin. I took a flannel out of a bucket with cool water, wrung it out a bit and ran it over her burning forehead. Leaning in, I gently pressed my lips on it while tenderly stroking her cheek. I had to smile into her skin when my endearments were rewarded with a happy sigh. I replaced the cloth onto her head before sitting down in a chair next to her bed. I picked up the book I'd brought from the night table and inspected it again, studying the cover and turning it around to read the text on the backside.
"Are you gonna teach me about the bathroom customs of servants in the Heian period now?"
"Good idea," I pointed out looking up from the book to see Sam giving me a worried glance. After a moment of deliberation, I stood up and Sam's gaze followed me as I rounded her bed to walk up to her computer. I booted it up, opened the browser and started some long mix of eerie music on Youtube on low volume. When I sat down again and opened the book, Sam's hand brushed my arm.
"Hey, Lara... Thank you, hon." She gave me a weak smile.
"Anytime, sweetie." I took her hand into mine and squeezed it gently.
Sam rolled onto the side to face me and closed her eyes when I playfully cleared my throat and began to read: "The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon..."