Chapter 52

By the time the end of the week rolled around John was quite sick. Sneezing, coughing, aching. Despite all his attempts to deny he ever became ill, that he was immune to just about everything, he was growing physically weary more and more all the time. A poker game was arranged for the evening, he and Billie hosting the event in their apartment. He had thought it would have been a familiar thing for Billie; that it might help to settle them in some. By the time the gang was gathered together, all sitting around the table talking and arguing, John was dreading the evening ahead. He felt hot, his throat burned and his head ached. He was having trouble paying attention or even caring at all, he playing bad cards and being the butt of everyone's jokes.

Aside from John's state Billie was looking forward to the evening. While the men played cards she and Jane would be in the kitchen whipping up an experimental dessert- butterscotch pie. The recipe was on a small slip of paper, it now placed on the counter and surrounded by bowls of ingredients and cooking utensils. They talked and laughed merrily, perhaps the best thing about the experience being that Mairy wished to have nothing to do with it. She either hated butterscotch, or thought it more important to stay by Pete's side. It always appeared as though she were watching him, but what kind of temptation could he have surrounded by a table of men? Billie didn't care too much; the two women weren't near one another.

The couples time was occupied separately. John had remained in the other room playing cards well into the time that smells of the baking pie began to fill the apartment. Jane and Billie severed the pie, small slices to everyone in the room. The men took a break from the game munching appreciatively on the pie. Comments were made that the dessert was too sweet or not sweet enough, but the general reaction was positive. Mairy had only a bite and refused to show any kind of reception. The two women were still pleased, exchanging a satisfied smile, when Billie looked over to John. His pie had barely been touched.

She stood behind him, bending to wrap her arms lightly around his neck. "Don't like it, love?"

He smiled as he always did when Billie came near or called him an endearment. "No, doll. It's great," he spoke quietly. "I just don't seem to have much appetite."

That was rare for John, a true indicator that he wasn't at all feeling well. In truth, even the very smell of the pie, so sweet and rich, was an assault on his body. Any other moment he would have devoured the treat but now even soup made him feel nauseous.

"I'll take yours," Homer mumbled with a mouth already full and John gladly let him take it.

There was a small mess in the kitchen that the two women went about cleaning. It wasn't until later, when most of the dishes were clean, that John sauntered slowly into the room, announcing himself with a sneeze. He had missed out on two hands, opting to watch instead of play. Now in the kitchen he threw himself into a chair, gazing down lifelessly. Again Billie went to him, drying her hands and drawing one maternal palm to his forehead. He was sweaty and looked rather pale. "Well my love, I think you're really sick now."

"Yeah," he grumbled uncomfortably.

"Why don't you go to bed?" she suggested softly, letting herself into his lap where she searched his heavy eyes. "Rest. I can take care of-"

She was interrupted by a sudden presence. Mairy stormed into the room, frowning as usual, carrying a large stack of dirty dishes. Instead of Homer running errands for the gang it looked as though Mairy caught the dirty end of the deal that night. The woman didn't speak but placed the dishes rather nosily into the sink, rinsing them off roughly. John was uninterested in her attitude, looking back to Billie.

"Yeah, doll. That sounds good. I'll probably be out for a couple days..."

The statement had barely been made before plates crashed in the sink and John flinched slightly. Mairy drew all the attention in the room while hers was pointed directly on the couple. "What?" she asked, looking near Billie for the first time and expressing some kind of sudden concern for John that no one entirely believed. "You mean you won't be well for-"

She stopped herself but the words had already been said, at least almost, and that was enough. Billie frowned sternly, her whole body reacting to the suspicion she felt. She drew up from John's lap, starring pointedly at Mairy, no longer afraid of eye contact or communication. When she was that angry she felt strong, as if fueled by the passion. Mairy no longer looked tall and intimidating. "For what?"

Mairy held her eyes, startled and unaware. The tension between the two women was felt at all times, but never had Billie turned on her in this way. Maybe, for just a moment, Mairy was daunted. "Nothing."

It was a lie, plain on her face and in the quiver of her rebuttal. What she meant, what she had almost said, was that John wouldn't be well enough for the robbery. She obviously had some interest in the matter, it affecting her in some way, and Billie felt overwhelmed with the other woman's audacity. John was a big part in the robbery. Not the whole part, but without his involvement, without his healthy participation, the men couldn't quite go through with it. Mairy only cared for John's well-being when it affected her; perhaps Pete wasn't the only one in it for the money.

"For what?" Billie pressed again, standing straight before her with her arms crossed over her chest. At that time her eyes were dark oceans of feeling. Mairy's own gaze faltered downward and that was all Billie needed to feel a sense of victory. "Did you mean the robbery?"

When guessing correctly Mairy met her eyes, alarmed. The woman didn't like to think she was vulnerable or that her emotions, her intentions, were that easily placed. Especially by this young, naive Billie Frechette. She tried, foolishly, for redemption. "Well, I just meant that...it wouldn't be good for him to be unsteady...for anyone...it wouldn't be safe...for all the men."

Billie's tongue pressed into the side of her mouth. She wasn't buying it. Behind her John sneezed violently, then sniffing endlessly.

"Oh, John, you're just so sick! This isn't good at all. Why don't you stay with Pete and me? We'll get you better right away..."

"Excuse me," Billie's voice rose, now on the brink of being outraged. Somewhere during the conversation Jane had slipped out of the room though no one really noticed her absence. The others could likely hear all that was being said no matter where they were in the apartment. "He's not going anywhere!"

Mairy liked being smug. "Well, it's just that you know how men are when they're sick...and you wouldn't know about that and it'd be less of a burden to you..."

"He is my man and I'll be taking care of him," Billie said vehemently, speaking as though John weren't even there. "And no one can do a better job taking care of him than me! You're in my kitchen and now I'll ask you kindly to get out before I make you, and I can do that real well, too!"

In reality it was an empty threat. Billie couldn't actually drag or kick anyone out of anywhere, but felt the need to speak and act strong. If worse came to worse she'd get one of the men to escort Mairy out. Homer always did what she asked. After a moment she realized this wouldn't be necessary and Mairy looked, almost in a panic, between John and Billie and then stormed out of the room much like the way she had come in. Billie was fuming quite literally. Her shoulders rose and fell heavily and fast. A warm, ragged breath blew out of her nose. A beat passed before she turned to look at John, still frowning and with her arms crossed. None of her anger was toward him but the look stuck to her face.

John gazed up at her, having witnessed the entire scene and not uttering a word. Mairy was ridiculous and out of line and Billie had handled her and defended herself in a way he hadn't expected. Not only did Billie protect herself but she protected John- essentially claiming him, and John couldn't be more aroused. His eyes were dark pools, his mouth almost near dropping. "Make love to me?"

It took a moment, but Billie smirked. Her body was rigid with defense but she softened just a little while slipping into his lap again. She rested her forehead against his, feeling his damp skin. "You're contagious," she managed to say seductively.

John's smirk mirrored hers. "Let's find out."

He went in to kiss her and pulled away quickly, beginning a coughing fit. Smiling still Billie touched his cheek, rising. He was ordered to bed right away, hot tea and aspirin on the way.