Many thanks to AKA Parfait and Dazed.in.life for the reviews!! I can't tell you how much I love them!
My trusty computer is getting a few repairs so the next drabble, Moving-in-Day, might be a few days off. Sorry!
10. Health
Noses were extraordinary things. Elizabeth understood that. But when hers continued to run, growing considerably more red and puffy with each passing day, it became a problem.
It wasn't that she refused to get sick. It was merely that she refused to get sick three days before her wedding.
She'd tried every cold medicine in the drug store and all it had accomplished was to leave the taste of overly-sweetened grape in her mouth. Her nerves quickly frayed and, adding the stress of arranging the last details, she was an emotional mother lode.
Tissues surrounded her in a halo of self-pity and tall glass of orange juice was her only hope of recovery.
She was huddled in the center of her sofa with an Audrey Hepburn movie playing in the background. A fluffy blanket kept her toes warm as she hadn't the energy to turn off the air conditioning.
She heaved a soft sigh and sank farther into the cushions. Maybe she could postpone the wedding…make-up certainly wouldn't hide the fact that her nose had adopted the size and shape of a poodle. Feeling utterly miserable, she took a sip of her orange juice and reached for another tissue when the doorbell rang.
"Oh, go away." She mumbled.
The doorbell rang again and she moaned, refusing to budge.
It didn't ring a third time which made Elizabeth think that the caller had relented, something that she wasn't sorry at all to assume. She heard the quiet tread of shoes and turned to see who was entering her apartment uninvited. A bit unnerved, she snatched up her tissue box and prepared to bash it over the intruder's head.
"Hello beautiful." Will stepped into her living room, a full bouquet of flowers in hand.
Elizabeth dropped the tissue box and promptly covered her nose. "Don't say that."
"Why not?" he seemed amused.
"It isn't funny." She grumbled, fixing her eyes on the television.
"Ah, baby, you'll get better." He laid the flowers on the low table in front of the television and sank down next to her.
"No, I won't," she moaned. "The wedding's three days away and I'll be stuck with a nose as bright as a tomato. Tell me how that's okay."
"Well…" he trailed off, eyes settling on the film playing. "You know, Elizabeth? I've always liked tomatoes…"
She wasn't taken in. "But I don't! It's my wedding and I want it to be perfect!"
"Elizabeth, it will be perfect. Just relax. You have three whole days to recuperate. Besides," he stood and headed for the kitchen. "Nobody stays sick when Will Turner makes his famous chicken noodle soup."