Chapter 10
I'll Be Right There
Misty and I have been sending each other text messages over our cell phones for the last few days. She doesn't know it yet, but I'm feeling a bit under the weather, and today I feel somewhat worse even. I'm not sure exactly what it is that I have or where I could've picked it up, but I suspect that it's probably a cold. During the middle of the afternoon, right as I decide to shut my eyes and rest for a little while, I hear my phone ring.
“Hello,” I answer in a somewhat sleepy voice.
“Hey, baby!” Misty greets me enthusiastically after two days of not hearing each other's voices.
After a few minutes of conversation in which we update each other about all the things we did recently—or did not do, as the case may be—Misty asks me if I want to go somewhere with her. As of this point, I haven't yet told her about feeling ill just because I didn't think that much of it, but now I realize that I won't be able to actually go anywhere in my current condition.
“I can't, unfortunately. I'm actually feeling kind of sick,” I explain to her.
“Oh no! I'm sorry to hear that,” Misty responds.
“Yeah, it really sucks…”
“If you want, I can come over and make you some chicken noodle soup or something,” she offers.
“Some soup sure would be nice right now,” I tell her without hesitation.
“Okay, I'll be right there and bring some soup mix with me.”
“Alright, see you soon. Also, you don't have to knock on the door; I don't like sudden noises anyway.”
Once the call is over, like I was going to earlier, I shut my eyes and doze off. Not too long after, I hear Misty opening the front door. She arrives so quickly that I haven't even fallen asleep fully yet. I'm in that sort of weird half-awake, half-asleep state. She enters my bedroom, and I shift from my side onto my back so I can see her. As much as I want some hot soup, the only thing I really need right now is to see Misty.
“Hey there. You sure got here fast!”
“How are you feeling?” Misty asks with concern in her voice.
“Not too great,” I sigh. “I have a slight headache, my throat is sore, and my muscles feel achy,” I complain.
Misty sets her purse down and, still holding the soup mix in her hand, comes to my side. I also notice that, in addition to the soup mix, she brought a few other items, which she has placed near her purse.
“I see you brought more food other than soup,” I comment, pointing to the items, wanting to find out what exactly they are.
“Oh, yeah—I brought mashed-potato mix and a bag of frozen tater tots,” Misty explains after looking over to where I'm pointing. “Do you have an upset tummy?” she asks as she starts slowly and gently rubbing the area in question with the palm of her hand.
“Actually, yeah, a little bit. Your touch is really soothing though.”
“Wow, you're burning up, baby!” she says when she places the back of her hand onto my forehead.
“It's weird because I also feel cold at the same time,” I reply.
“Well, I'm gonna prepare this chicken noodle soup for you right away. I'll be back real soon.” Right before exiting the room, she also remembers one thing: “Oh, I should put these tater tots in the freezer.”
I lie down on my side, shut my eyes, and rest while waiting for Misty to come back. After several minutes, Misty returns carrying two steaming bowls of delicious-smelling soup.
“I decided to make myself some too because it just looked so good,” she tells me shortly before I'm about to ask about that second bowl.
“Well, I sure can't blame you for that. It smells good as well.”
In addition to this, I notice that she also brought with her a pack of something tasty to supplement the soup.
“Oh, mini croutons! Good thinking,” I say.
She sets one of the bowls down onto the nightstand next to me as well as a coaster underneath it.
“Be careful: It's really hot,” she cautions me.
“Yeah, we should probably wait a few minutes,” I suggest. “I really appreciate you coming over here so fast to help me like this,” I thank her sincerely while we're waiting for the soup to cool down.
“Awww, it's no trouble, hon—I care about you.”
From her purse, she takes out a maroon-colored netbook and begins to do things on it while the soup is still too hot to eat.
“Oh, you have one of those tiny laptops. That's pretty cool. I haven't seen one of those in a while,” I comment.
“Yeah, it's pretty convenient. It even fits in my purse, so I can take it with me and use it to do things that my phone can't.”
Another five minutes pass before I decide to try a spoonful of the soup. Even though it's still fairly hot and steam continues rising from the bowl, I figure it's cool enough by now. The first thing I do is pour some of the croutons into my soup. I then stir through it to get a look at its contents. When I inspect it, I see that the soup contains plenty of noodles and decent-sized pieces of chicken. I take a spoonful of broth and some noodles, blowing on it a few times.
“This is pretty awesome soup,” I tell Misty after eating the first spoonful.
She puts her computer away and starts eating as well, likewise adding croutons to her soup beforehand.
“I like chicken noodle soup a lot, even when I'm not sick,” she declares.
In a matter of minutes, we both finish eating, and Misty takes the bowls back to wash them.
While we're resting and letting the soup settle in our stomachs, I glance over to Misty's beige purse, noting its lustrous pearly shine.
“I really like your purse; it's very pretty,” I say.
“Thanks! It's one of my favorites too,” she responds.
In bed and without a whole lot to do, I pick up the lanyard I've been making for the last two months and continue working through the massive spider web of plastic strips.
“Remember the sixteen-string eight-by-eight lanyard I told you about? Here it is,” I say, showing it to Misty.
“Wow, this is so cool! I've never seen anything like it before,” she says with fascination whilst holding the enormous corkscrew-shaped structure.
“I'm not sure if I'd ever be able to make a larger one containing eighteen strings or more. That would be extraordinarily difficult—if it's even possible at all. I'd actually really like to see something like that, especially a ten-by-ten,” I add.
She hands it back to me, and I begin assembling the next stitch, a process which will take at least twenty minutes.
⁂
“Is your throat feeling any better now?” Misty asks after some time passes.
“The hot soup did help a lot with that, but I still have a lingering headache,” I answer.
“Do you want me to bring you an ice pack?”
“An ice pack would definitely be nice right now, yes.”
She brings me the requested item, setting it down gently onto my forehead.
“Thank you. Ah, that's much better,” I say as the coolness spreads through, dampening the pulsating pain of my headache.
“Do you, maybe, want to take a nap?” Misty asks.
“Now that you mention it, a nap does sound good. I need the rest anyway.”
“Alright, sweetie. I'll be here when you wake up if you need anything,”
After tucking me in under the blanket, Misty rubs my back and hums a tune with her sweet voice, causing me to fall asleep rapidly. When I wake up, I look to my right to see that Misty is, as she promised, still right here on the other side of the bed, using her netbook.
“Oh, hey!” she says, turning to look at me, noticing that I'm awake. “Is your head still hurting?” she asks.
Right as she's mentioning it, I realize that my head doesn't seem to be bothering me as much as it did before the nap.
“It's definitely a lot better now. That ice pack was extremely helpful,” I answer.
“Are you hungry?” she asks.
> “Hmmm… I could eat. What time is it, for that matter?”
“It's 7 PM,” Misty informs me.
“Oh, so I guess that means I've pretty much been sleeping all day, haven't I?”
“Well, yeah, but it's very important that you get plenty of rest.”
“That's true, though I still feel bad whenever I have to lie in bed and not do anything for an extended period of time, since I'd much rather spend my time going outside and doing something exciting.”
“Don't worry too much about that. There will always be another day for us to have fun,” Misty assures me. “Now, you wait here while I go and make some of those tater tots.” After a little while, Misty returns with two steaming bowls of tater tots and announces, “Dinner's ready!”
“These look delicious!” I say as we both grab our forks and start digging in. “I guess the nice thing about being sick is the luxury of getting to eat in bed,” I add with a hint of laughter.
I take one of the golden-crispy tater tots with my fork and eat it. The outer surface is crunchy, yet the inside is delicately fluffy.
“Mmm… These are great!” Misty comments.
“I know—I was just about to say the same thing.”
We both consume all of the tater tots within a matter of minutes, and Misty takes the bowls and forks back to clean them, as per usual.
“Phew, I'm really full now,” I declare while we're lying down and resting.
“Me too,” Misty says, letting out a cute little yawn. “I think I'm about ready to go to bed. How about you?”
“I should probably sleep. Like you said earlier, I need my rest. However, I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to because of my long daytime nap…” I reply.
“Just lie down, and see if you can fall asleep. If not, then it's okay.”
Misty gets up to turn the lights off before returning to bed next to me. After trying and trying for nearly thirty minutes to fall asleep, tossing and turning erratically, I conclude that it probably isn't going to happen.
“I can't sleep. I feel cold and restless and my mattress is just so uncomfortable,” I groan.
“If you want, you can try resting your head on me if that'll help any,” Misty offers.
“Your boobs are so warm and soft. What size are these beauties?” I ask, nuzzling her ample chest.
“Mmm… I'm glad you like them. They're 32D—all natural for you, baby. Now get some rest, hon, and sleep tight. I love you.”
“I love you too, my blonde beauty. Good night.”
⁂
In the morning, I wake up to the sound of Misty talking on the phone. Upon listening closer to the audio coming from the other end, I can tell that she's talking to Cindy.
“Yeah, he's sick, so I'm taking care of him,” I hear Misty say as I rub the sleep from my eyes.
I can see the light-blue sky and bright sunlight through the window. My head doesn't hurt anymore, and my throat hurts to a much lesser extent. I'm still not quite at a hundred percent just yet, but nonetheless, feeling even a little bit better after feeling awful is one of the best feelings there are. Misty is sitting on the edge of the bed and notices that I've gotten up.
“Oh, speaking of which, he woke up just now,” she tells Cindy through the phone. She then turns to me and says, “Good morning, sweetie. How are you feeling?”
“Much better—because of you. If you weren't around to help me, I definitely wouldn't be feeling better this fast,” I answer.
“Good! I'm glad you're doing better. Oh, and Cindy says 'hi' and also hopes you get well soon.”
Misty holds the phone out closer to me and turns the volume up so that I can hear Cindy's voice through the speaker.
“Hi! Hope you feel better soon,” she tells me.
I'm not sure if I'm imagining things, but I think I also just heard her blow me a big kiss through the phone.
“Thank you very much, Cindy!” I respond.
“Alright, well, I think I'll call you again later. I'm going to cook breakfast for us here,” Misty says, placing the phone back next to her ear.
“Sounds good. Bye bye,” Cindy replies.
“You look so hot today. I'd kiss you, but I don't want to risk having you catch what I have if it's contagious,” I say to Misty.
“Maybe we can rub our noses together instead; that can be our secret little way of saying 'I love you,'” she suggests in a sensual voice, bringing herself closer to me.
“Awww, come here, adorable,” I say as we lightly press our noses together.
“Ooo, I can't help it. I wanna give you a kiss,” she says, lightly planting one on my nose. “What would you like for breakfast, babe?” Misty then asks.
“I remember you brought some mashed potatoes with you when you came here, so I think I'd like to try those.”
“Oh, yeah—good idea. I'm gonna go ahead and get started on those.”
“I think I'm feeling well enough now that I can sit at the table when I eat, but I'll still lie down here while you're making them. Just let me know when they're done,” I tell Misty.
With that said, she goes off to prepare our meal. Some time passes and then she calls out to me from the kitchen.
“Mashed potatoes are ready!”
“Be right there!” I shout back.
Getting out of bed, I enter the kitchen and sit at the table. I find that two bowls of mashed potatoes are already set. Misty is only getting the spoons and pouring glasses of water to go along. As soon as I have the utensil in my hand, I commence eating. Instantly, I'm surprised by how tasty these mashed potatoes are.
“I think these may very well be the best mashed potatoes I've ever had. They're so perfectly creamy and buttery,” I compliment her cooking.
“I made them with love just for you,” Misty says.
“This reminds me of when, a number of years back, I had a TV dinner with mashed potatoes just like these in it. The other things in there, namely the corn and chicken, were pretty good, but those mashed potatoes were the best I can remember,” I relate to her as I relive the memory.
Once we both finish eating, we clear the table and, agreeing that we're both full, go lie down and relax once again.
“I think I'm going to take a nap for a while. Maybe by tomorrow I'll be feeling well enough that we can finally go out somewhere,” I say, still feeling some fatigue from my sickness.
“Alright, get some rest, love.”
While I lie on my side, Misty gives me a little good-night kiss on the cheek. At some point before I'm fully asleep, she calls Cindy and starts talking with her on the phone.
“Oh, sorry for waking you,” Misty apologizes to me, thinking that she's interrupted my nap.
“It may seem counterintuitive, but I actually want you two to keep talking nearby; both of your voices are so soft and comforting,” I explain, knowing that Cindy can hear me on the other end of the line.
Misty and Cindy continue talking quietly on the phone nearby, and I fall asleep to the sound of their voices in the background.
⁂
When I wake up the next day, I feel very refreshed and ready to go out and do something. The sunlight shines its rays through the window, and it looks like it's going to be a wonderful day today.
“Are you feeling better, love bug?” Misty asks.
Without saying anything, I come up to her, take her in my arms, and kiss her with extremely hot passion.
“Does that answer your question?” I finally say once our lips separate, still hugging her.
“Mmm… baby. Well, I can see you're not feeling sick anymore!”
“Yep, and it's only possible because I have someone like you to take care of me.”
“Awww, it was my pleasure!” Misty responds, beaming me a gorgeous smile.