Chapter 32

I woke late into the morning underneath the blankets, and after a moment I remembered shivering during the night and being coaxed to slip my feet underneath the sheets so I could be covered.

I also recalled the compress on my forehead being changed twice and having my temperature taken again early in the morning.

I opened my eyes and then closed them again against the bright light of the window.

I still felt unbearably hot, and after a moment of mental persuasion I kicked the covers off and lay still, letting the weariness wash over me. I felt so weak, and I didn't even bother to open my eyes when the door opened quietly and then closed.

I listened as the figure crossed the room and then sat on the side of the bed. The person leaned into me and softly kissed my cheek, and I took in his scent.

"Ignazio," I whispered weakly, comforted by his presence.

"Hey, my dear, how are you feeling?"

I groaned feebly.

"That's what I thought. Here, take the thermometer."

I opened my mouth and let him slip the thermometer under my tongue.

"Ignazio, please let the curtains down. It's too bright."

He immediately obeyed, and then came back and sat next to me, taking my face in his hands.

"Your cheeks are red, and you still feel hot."

"I feel as though someone has used my body as a tea steep and dunked me in boiling water a few times."

"Hmm…good metaphor."

I didn't bother to tell him it was a simile.

"This is really going to last a few days?" I groaned.

"Shh…shh…you're okay. It'll be okay. Just relax. Wait a few minutes and we'll see what your temperature is. Are you hungry?"

"Far from it."

"Okay. Just relax."

He took my hand and held it quietly as I lay on my back, eyes closed as I bore the stifling heat.

Soon he took the thermometer from my mouth and shielded my eyes with his hand as he pulled back the curtain over the window to read it.

"Back up to one-hundred three," he said softly, and then dropped the curtain. "I'll get you some medicine from Barbara."

When he closed the door behind him and the room was dark once more, I opened my eyes and looked around. I lifted my head slightly and saw a blanket and a pillow on the carpet beside the bed, Ignazio's shoes beside mine next to the door.

I smiled softly and lowered my head back onto the pillow, and after a minute he was back.

"Here," he said, and I weakly took the pills he offered me and then handed him back the glass of water, which he set beside the bed.

We were quiet, with him sitting beside me and gently smoothing my hair again and again, gazing down at me.

I felt hot and weak and tired, and I didn't feel like doing anything other than lying there in the dim room with Ignazio beside me. But as I closed my eyes and let Ignazio stroke my hair, I thought about what having the flu would mean for the next few days.

"Ignazio?" I asked wearily, "We have to go tomorrow morning."

"What?"

"Il Volo has to leave for Nicaragua tomorrow, for the next round of interviews."

"No, Tamzin."

"Yes, early tomorrow morning, we have to go, remember?"

"Yes, I know that's the plan, but…"

"What will happen?"

"We'll change the plan. I'll talk to Michele…We'll figure something out."

I didn't understand this, and I felt like he was just trying to get me to stay calm, but I relented.

"Okay."

I really didn't feel like thinking, and I hung onto the promise that they would figure something out, a plan that I'd be happy with as well as them.

I felt listless and exhausted, and neither the ideas of landscape photography or working for Il Volo appealed to me at the moment, which was how I knew I was really sick. I only wanted to feel better.

Even so, I knew that when I eventually was better I would regret the working opportunities lost to days of illness, and so I said softly, almost in a whisper, "I should work."

Ignazio leaned closer to me.

"Hmm?"

"I should work. Can you bring me the laptop?"

"No."

I was quiet, thinking about that, and it didn't bother me. I didn't feel like working, anyway. But then I sighed and opened my eyes to look up at him.

"I really should do some work. There's so much to be done…pictures to post, responses to see…"

"It can wait, my dear. You should just rest."

"I don't know…"

"Tamzin, it's okay. It can wait a while."

"You think so?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

I closed my eyes, exhausted from the conversation, and he leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"I don't think I've ever given up so easily," I said quietly, and he laughed softly.

"Well, you're sick. But it was a nice try, anyway."

"Thanks. Ignazio, I just feel so horrible…Everything hurts…"

"You're okay, Tamzin. You're alright…Just relax…"

Listening to his comforting murmuring, I fell asleep, with him still sitting beside me and stroking my hair. He was tracing my hair back from above my temple to behind my ear over and over again, the motion gentle and comforting.

It wasn't long before the doctor was there, being led into the room by Barbara and Michele. They came and sat beside the bed, and I wearily watched the strange man come to the bedside and look down at me.

"Hola," he said, smiling at me.

"Hola," I responded weakly.

He put his hand on my forehead as he began to speak in rapid Spanish, and I watched his lips moving, wondering how someone could speak so fast. Then he paused and looked expectantly at me.

"Uh…no hablo espanol."

He smiled and looked up at Barbara, who began to speak in rapid Spanish back to him. It was somewhat dizzying to listen to, and I looked up at Ignazio, who smiled softly back down at me, and I tuned out the conversation.

After a minute everyone left the room, and I was left alone for a few minutes.

I opened my eyes and watched the people moving around outside through the crack in the door, listening to the faint snatches of conversation. Soon it opened and Ignazio came back in, shutting the door quietly behind him.

"So?" I asked, when he was sitting beside me again on the mattress.

"You have the flu."

"Well, I knew that already."

"But now it's confirmed."

"Brilliant," I muttered sarcastically, "What else is new?"

"Gianluca and Piero want to see you."

"They do?"

"Yes. They're worried about you."

"Okay. Send them in, I guess. I'm not stopping them."

But even as I whispered it, my eyes were closing, and I was feeling very drowsy. Ignazio leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"Sweet dreams, Tamzin."

When I awoke again, I heard people talking outside the closed bedroom door, and one by one I identified the voices of Michele, Barbara, Piero, Gianluca, and Ignazio. I opened my eyes, confused, and found that I was alone in the bedroom, the door shut completely. I was surprised to hear another voice, and this one I couldn't identify. I listened, confused, and then heard Ignazio start to speak again, but this time his voice was raised, and Barbara hushed him after a moment.

Michele began to talk again, calmly but rapidly, and I lifted my head and looked at the closed door. After a minute of mental persuasion and arguing with myself, I sat up and then slowly got up from the bed, tiptoeing to the door and leaning exhaustedly against the wall to wait for the dizziness to fade.

Their voices were clearer, and I could hear Michele saying something about staying in Costa Rica for a few extra days.

I placed my hand on the cool doorknob, and after a deep breath I turned it as quietly as I could and opened it a crack, putting my eye to the slit and peering into the living room.

The five of them were gathered around Michele's cell phone, which explained the unfamiliar voice. It was flat on the coffee table, on speaker phone, and Michele and Barbara sat together on the couch in front of it. Gianluca and Piero sat in chairs nearby, looking deep in thought as Piero chewed his tongue and Gianluca bit his lip.

Ignazio was pacing back and forth beside their circle, running his hand nervously through his hair as he did so.

"Look," the voice on the phone said, "Michele, the interviews are already scheduled and all the travel is set up. Surely you don't want to waste the trouble you put into arranging all that?"

"No, of course not, but we need to think of priorities here," Michele said, and Barbara nodded approvingly.

"Priorities. Right," the voice said, "Michele, think about it. It's not reasonable to hold back the whole team in Costa Rica for a few days, miss all the interviews, waste all the travel, throw away all the preparations just for this girl! If you must have someone stay with her, then have Barbara take care of her, but don't hold back the whole team!"

"No, we need Barbara with us," Piero said immediately, and Gianluca nodded sympathetically at him.

"Alright, then leave the girl by herself. She is an adult after all, and she'll be alright. Just let her stay behind until she's better, and then she can meet up with you in wherever you are at the time."

Michele sighed and leaned back into the sofa cushions, rubbing his face with his hands.

"No!" Ignazio protested, stopping his pacing, and Michele looked up at him. "We're not leaving her! We can't! Michele, she's a part of our team! We can't just leave her behind!"

"Ignazio, honestly," the voice said, "You need to do what's best for Il Volo. Think about your career."

"She is part of my career!" Ignazio snapped, his voice rising again, "She's a part of the team, and we can't leave her!"

Michele looked at Barbara, who looked back at him, and them Ignazio moved closer to the circle, getting everyone to look up at him.

"Michele, if one of us were sick, we'd have to stop and wait until that person was better!" he said pleadingly, gesturing to himself, Piero, and Gianluca, who watched him quietly. His voice was getting louder and louder, more insistent as he went on, "Why is she any different!? She's done so much for us, and I refuse to just leave her here! How could we even discuss leaving her behind!? No matter what the record company says, I'm a crucial part of Il Volo, and I'm not going anywhere! I refuse to go without Tamzin!"

"Yeah, me too!" Piero said angrily, jumping up beside Ignazio and crossing his arms definitively.

"Me too!" Gianluca said, getting up and standing beside them.

"See! We're not leaving her! We're going to stay here until she's better, no matter what arrangements we have to throw away. I don't care what the TV programs think, and I don't care what the radio shows think! Call them and tell them WE'RE NOT COMING! WE'RE STAYING HERE!"

"Yeah!" Gianluca and Piero agreed.

Barbara looked fearfully up at Ignazio, who was yelling now, and then Michele stood up too, his face angry.

"HEY!" he hollered over the boys, and they all quieted. "BOYS! SIT DOWN!"

Gianluca and Piero immediately sat, and even Ignazio backed up at hearing Michele yell.

I opened the door a little wider to see better, peering out into the bright living room.

"WE ARE NOT. LEAVING. HER. HERE!" Michele shouted, and they were all silent for a moment. Barbara reached out and touched Michele's arm, and he sat back down on the couch, looking warningly at the boys.

"Really!?" Ignazio asked, his face immediately brightening, and Michele nodded.

"Michele, really?" came the voice dubiously on the phone, and Ignazio smiled triumphantly at it. "Think about it. Is this really a prudent decision?"

Ignazio started to pace again, back and forth in front of the coffee table, and Gianluca and Piero followed him with their eyes, back and forth.

"I don't care whether or not if it is prudent," Michele insisted, and Barbara nodded approvingly at him, "The boys are right. Besides, it'll only be a few days. We won't miss too much. We'll try to reschedule the interviews for after we return from the U.S., and if not… oh well. It'll be okay."

"You know these interviews will be very helpful to the sale of the CD, and if you just left tomorrow like you planned to, you wouldn't have to worry about rescheduling or losing them. Boys, your concern for this girl is very charming, but think about it…She's not a crucial part of the team. She's just the photographer."

I opened the door a little wider and leaned against the doorframe, feeling very drained and struggling to stay on my feet.

"NO!" Ignazio shouted, and I jumped as he whirled and slammed his fist on the coffee table, "She is so much more! You don't have a clue how amazing she is! She never stops working, never stops thinking of us, and we need her! Do you know how we got all those interviews in the U.S.!? Because she got them for us! Do you know why we've gotten so much more social media popularity!? Guess who's managing our accounts for us!? You can't even begin to understand her! Yeah, she's the photographer, no "justs" about it, but she is so much more than that, too!"

He slammed his hand down angrily on the coffee table again, and then the room fell quiet, shocked into silence.

"I'm sorry," Michele said after a moment, reaching forward and picking up the phone, "the boys refuse to leave without her, and there's nothing we can do about that. We'll do what we can to help her get better, and then we'll be on our way when she's ready. I'm sorry if it's not what you wanted, but you'll have to accept it. Besides, the gain in sales she won us in the U.S. makes up for any loss her illness will cause. Good evening, sir."

Then he hung up and smiled at the boys, and Gianluca and Barbara smiled back, but Ignazio still looked angry. I then noticed Piero looking at me from across the room, and as I watched as he nudged Ignazio from behind and motioned to my doorway.

They all turned and looked at me leaning heavily against the doorframe, and I realized in embarrassment I was crying. Ignazio's eyes widened, and for once he was speechless.

"I'm sorry I'm causing so much trouble," I said weakly, my voice trembling as I struggled to speak, "I could travel, if I must. It's okay."

"Oh, sweetheart," Barbara said softly, and Ignazio stepped around the coffee table and quickly crossed the room to me.

"Tamzin, you shouldn't have gotten up. You're too weak."

He came beside me and wrapped an arm tightly around my waist, taking my elbow with the other, steadying me and helping me to forsake the doorframe.

"It's okay, Ignazio. I'm fine."

"I'm sorry we woke you up," Michele said earnestly.

"I guess I did quite a bit of yelling, didn't I?" Ignazio asked, blushing and watching me intently.

"I can travel," I insisted again to Michele.

"Tamzin, you can't travel. You're not strong enough."

"No, Tamzin," Ignazio agreed. "A valiant proclamation, but no, you cannot."

"Yes I can!"

"Alright, then I won't let you," Ignazio said, "How's that?"

I felt light-headed from standing for so long, and I held my hand to my forehead and weakly closed my eyes, beginning to lose my balance.

Ignazio let go of my elbow and then bent to wrap his arm around my legs, blessedly picking me up and allowing me to stop standing.

"Relax, Tamzin."

His voice was mercifully gentle and soft, and when I looked up at him he tenderly kissed my hot forehead and then looked up at everyone.

"Everyone say goodnight to Tamzin."

Everyone softly murmured their goodnights and get-well-soons, probably still stunned from the whole scene, and Ignazio turned and carried me back into the bedroom, shutting the door with his foot.

He brought me to the bed and gently laid me down in it, and I sighed as a wave of fatigue and heat washed over me. Ignazio moved to sit in his usual spot beside me, and he took the thermometer from the bedside table and shook it, and then tapped my cheek wordlessly with it to let me know that he was about to put it in under my tongue. While I waited to hear the height of my fever, Ignazio wiped my tearstains gently with his thumbs and then took my face in his cool hands, and I opened my eyes and looked up at him.

When he saw me looking at him, he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"For waking you up, for yelling, for making you cry."

"It's okay," I said, and I reached up wearily to take his face in my hands, which I knew were not cool and comforting.

Still, he closed his eyes for a moment at my touch, feeling my hands on his cheeks.

"Thank you for saying those things," I said, and he opened his eyes and smiled.

"I couldn't leave you."

"Thank you. It means a lot to me."

I let my hands fall from his face onto the mattress beside me, and after a minute he took the thermometer from my mouth and got up, going to the door and opening it.

There was still low murmuring going on outside, and I heard the distant voices of Piero and Gianluca. No one had left yet.

"Give her an Ibuprofen, and hopefully it'll be lower in the morning," I heard Barbara say, and Ignazio agreeing. I heard Gianluca ask something softly.

"Okay. Just be quiet," Ignazio said, granting him permission.

"Of course," Piero agreed, and I heard the door open wider and people enter, softly treading across the carpet to the bed.

"Goodnight, Tamzin. I hope you feel better," Gianluca said, the deep cadence of his voice low and comforting. Then he kissed my cheek and stepped away.

"Goodnight, Tamzin. I hope you feel better, too," Piero said, leaning down beside me, "If it makes you feel any better, your illness has won us a few vacation days in the beautiful Costa Rica!"

"Don't worry Tamzin, I'll hit him for you later," Gianluca reassured me softly, and I couldn't help smiling.

"Yes! I made her smile!" Piero said softly, and then kissed my cheek and left.

"Goodnight, Tamzin," Michele said from the doorway, and I waved weakly without opening my eyes.

Ignazio returned with an Ibuprofen and some medicine from the doctor, which I took.

Then Barbara came in and told me she'd be in the living room again, and I told Ignazio to make her go back to her bed, which he was unable to accomplish.

"I'll go back when your fever goes down, deal?" she asked, and then laid her hand on my forehead and kissed my cheek.

"Okay, deal," I said softly, and she left, closing the door behind her. Ignazio got a cold cloth and washed my face and neck, and then laid it on my forehead.

"I love you, Tamzin," he said gently.

"I love you too, Ignazio."

He sat beside me and took my hand, and everything was still and quiet in the suite.

Then he kissed my cheek and whispered, "It's not something I usually sing, but I like it."

Then he began to sing as he stroked my hair, his voice soft and handsome and beautifully comforting, "Just close your eyes…The sun is going down…You'll be alright…No one can hurt you now…Come morning light…You and I'll be safe and sound…"