“It’s fine. Don’t worry about that at all. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. I’ll let Seth know. I’m worried about you though. So you’re home alone?”
“That sounds creepy, but yes, I am here alone. Well, the cat is here of course. Where are you? Are you at the cabin?”
“No, I’m at my other house.”
‘Other house’ must be nice. How many houses could he have? I can’t even imagine having several places to live. The concept of getting out of just one house and getting into another one is hard enough for me to deal with right now, let alone achieve.
“Well, thanks for calling about the car. I’ll get it straightened out and out of Seth’s way as soon as I can. I’m not feeling well so I’m going to go back to sleep.”
“Get some rest and make sure you drink enough water.”
“I will. Goodnight.”
I hang up before he can say anything else. I don’t understand why he keeps contacting me. I feel like we really shouldn’t be talking to each other anymore. There really isn’t a reason to, is there? Deep inside a part of me likes when he calls me, though. I like feeling as if he is thinking of me.
I notice I have a text from Michael. It must have come through while I was one the phone.
Michael: I’m here. I don’t want to call in case you’re sleeping. Let me know if you’re okay.
Me: I’m okay, just really tired from the meds. Call me in the morning. Love you.
Michael: Love you. Feel better.
My throat is freaking on fire. I want tea and honey so bad, but I don’t feel like I can walk all the way to the kitchen and boil water. I glance at Halo sleeping on my feet. “Halo, why can’t you be like those cats on the internet and do amazing tricks? Like make tea?” He blinks at me in the way only cats can. I wave at him.
When I realized Halo was deaf as a tiny kitten, I started to make hand signals at him. It’s definitely not sign language, but it’s our own little communication and I think he likes it. Yes, I realize the fever is allowing really random thoughts to seep in and out of my mind.
A warm, soft hand is gently touching my forehead. Mom always felt my forehead when I was sick and placed a cool cloth on my forehead. I feel her sit next to me on the couch. I’m so glad she’s here to take care of me.
“Mom?” I open my eyes. The room is dark with just the dim glow of the television.
“No, baby, it’s me. You’re burning up.”
Somehow, Storm is in my house, sitting on my couch. Touching my forehead.
I want to yell and jump up, but I can barely move. My entire body hurts and feels like lead.
“Storm… what are you… how did you get in?” I mumble groggily.