The next week saw her miserable and stranded on the couch, the constant low-level agony and wooziness brought on by cough syrup temporarily chasing out the constance of grief. If Bill's absence made things less bearable, at least for once she was not aware of the cause.
Margo came to see her, and commandeered the kitchen to make soup. Nora watched her from the couch, sniffling into a Kleenex, vaguely aware of how tentative Margo's movements were, how slow. She poked at the lopsided bready spheres floating in the broth when Margo finally set down a bowl before her. "Dumplings?"
"Matzah balls. My mom used to make these for me when I was sick. They're not as good as hers, but..." Margo shrugged.
Nora tasted the objects. They were pleasantly bland and had the consistency of Jell-O. She set the bowl aside, curling up until she felt Margo's body slide next to hers, felt her friend's arms around her. "You don't know of any obscure Peruvian plants that can cure the common cold, do you?"
"Not that won't turn you into a werewolf or something." Margo stroked Nora's forehead. Nora closed her eyes, feeling tired and a little dizzy even lying in Margo's arms. She felt something soft and moist on her forehead...Margo's hand, her lips, a wet cloth? She was so warm, so sleepy, it was hard to tell.
"Don't worry, though." Margo's voice was in her ears, weaving itself into the strands of sensation that surrounded her. "I'll take care of you."
When Nora woke up a few hours later, dehydrated and sweaty, Margo had fallen asleep. Nora rested her head on Margo's stomach, listening to the evenness of her breath and the small noises her stomach made. She pressed her mouth to Margo's stomach, idly tasting her skin.
~o~o~
The infection passed, but somehow the sickness remained. The snow, when it fell, made her throat ache and her mouth taste like blood. It seemed as though it snowed for weeks. The ache and the cold settled into her, and one day she woke up and it seemed normal.
She went out of the apartment one day in February, and was surprised to find that the air tasted like spring. She wiped her nose, coughed, lifted her head, and saw a familiar figure in black striding down the sidewalk, the wind making his long coat whip around his ankles.
His skin wasn't quite the color of the snow, she noticed. It was warmer, a faint tinge of petal pink adorning the tip of his nose, his cheeks. "Do you want to come inside?" she asked, thinking of the chill that was already attacking the tips of her fingers. She tucked her hands inside her arms, conscious of the wind seeping through the thin cotton of her T-shirt.
"Please," Pendergast said, and he took off his coat and put it around her shoulders. It was only a few yards back to the warmth of the building, but she tugged the garment tightly around her anyway.
She made him tea out of the last of the bag he'd bought for her so long ago. She'd grown to like the blend, and had saved it for special occasions, when she really needed to drink something that had cost $200--it didn't taste any different from Tazo if she hadn't remembered the price, the gift, the confusing whirl of time when she'd been furious at Bill and chasing down a nearly-immortal serial killer. She could buy another bag. It wouldn't be the same.
The heat from the tea chased away the pink in his cheeks, and soon he was as pale as before; he seemed alien, hunched over slightly on the sofa. "How have you been?" he asked softly.
Nora sighed. "I'm sick," she said, "I don't know what with, and I hate it here. I don't know why Bill liked it so much--I thought I understood it when I took the job at the Museum, but I don't anymore. It's crowded and cold and I barely know anyone and it's so f*cking lonely--" She swallowed a sob. "I'm sorry," she said, and sipped at her tea, barely tasting it. "Things have been like this for a while. How was New Orleans?"
"Not what I'd expected." Pendergast set his tea down and considered her, blue eyes bright and unreadable. "I've never liked New York in the winter, either. The climate doesn't agree with me."
Nora smiled crookedly. "We're a couple of hothouse flowers, huh?" She saw the trace of a smile on Pendergast's lips, obliterated by his rising teacup. He sipped deliberately, clearly turning over something in his mind.
At last, he set the cup down. "You haven't been well," he said, a statement of fact. "A change of environment would be very beneficial."
"Really," Nora said. "What kind of change of environment do you suggest?"
"Somewhere hot," he said. "Dry, but by the ocean--the sea air is very good for those with mysterious ailments. Somewhere you've never been." He sipped at his tea again. "Morocco, in fact, would be ideal."
"Really," Nora said again, smiling a little. "Why Morocco?"
"Because it is beautiful this time of year," Pendergast said, "and because I have two plane tickets to Tangiers. We leave on Monday, if you're willing." He finished his tea and got up, nodded at Nora as if in thanks.
"Wait," Nora said, and put her tea aside. "I know you're not just going to Tangiers for fun. And I know you're not just asking me for my health." She cocked her head. "What am I going to have to do, and how much danger am I going to be in?"
Pendergast sighed and began to pull on his coat. "You're partially correct. There have been several mysterious disappearances in the city, all of American expatriates, and I am really not at liberty to discuss the case further. I doubt you will be required to do anything, and that is where your second assertion is wrong--your physical condition could be cured easily with the daily use of a Neti pot, but that will not alter the underlying condition. You need a change of scenery, and I know this from experience. When my--when I--" He stopped, looking as though he'd swallowed something unexpected. For a moment, his face looked drawn, older than he really was, and then he turned away.
"If several weeks of leisure in a city with a rich cultural heritage and history isn't enough of an enticement," he added, "I'm meeting Viola Maskelene there. She's been working on a dig a few miles outside of the city. She'd very much like to see you."