There wasn’t a doubt in Jen’s mind her niece would do a wonderful job again. “I hope you’re both prepared for a permanent four-legged friend of your own.”
Her sister smiled. “I told Dan the same thing.”
***
Brett kept his sunglasses on as he opened the door into his house. It looked like the twenty-hour days had finally caught up to him. The nausea had started while still on the highway. At first he’d chalked it up to the fast-food burgers he’d grabbed at a rest stop on the Pike. When the aura started, he knew his upset stomach had nothing to do with food.
Crossing the kitchen, he focused on getting to somewhere he could lie down. When he reached the living room, he paused long enough to close all the blinds, blocking out as much sunlight as possible. Without even removing his tie or shoes, he hit the sofa and closed his eyes.
Someone bashed a mallet against a gong, and Brett forced his eyes open. He had no idea of how long he’d been lying there or what time it was. There was no light in the room to help him gauge it either. He did know he was on the sofa in his living room and he still wore his shoes. The mallet-wielding jerk beat their gong again, and he groaned as the severe throbbing on the right side of his head intensified. He wished a slow, painful death to whoever was making all the noise outside.
The opening theme song to Star Wars drifted out of his pocket. Jen. He’d set the ringtone for her weeks ago so he’d know without even looking if a call was from her.
Careful not to move his head too much, Brett pulled the device out. “Jen,” he said, the sound of his own voice extremely loud to his pounding head.
“Hey, you. Are you not home yet?” Her voice seemed several decibels louder than usual. “I’m there now.”
There wasn’t a mallet-wielding idiot outside hitting a gong. The noise he’d heard was his doorbell. “I’m here. Give me a minute.”
Brett let the cell phone slip to the floor. Slowly he swung both feet off the sofa and pushed himself up into a sitting position. For his efforts, the throbbing in his head intensified.
>
He moved across the room about as fast as a turtle going up a hill covered in wet cement but somehow he managed to reach the front door. Despite still wearing sunglasses, when he opened the door and light hit him, he flinched and touched his forehead.
“You not feeling well,” she said.
“Migraine.”
She moved inside and closed the door, once again blocking out the early evening sunlight. “C’mon, let’s get you in bed.” Jen slipped an arm around his waist.
At a different time, he would’ve had a great comeback to her statement. Tonight he was finding it hard to form simple one-word sentences.
With slow, controlled steps, he walked alongside Jen to his bedroom. When they reached it, she immediately closed all the blinds and pulled the covers back on his bed.
“You’ll be more comfortable without this,” she said, undoing his tie. She tossed it on the nightstand. “Do you have anything you can take for your head?”
Brett sat and kicked his shoes off. “No.”
“Lie down and I’ll go pick something up. I’ll take your keys so I can let myself back in.”
They only had tonight alone together. He didn’t want to waste it with her playing nursemaid. His migraine had its own ideas though. “I’m sorry.” He eased his head down to his pillow.
“No reason to be sorry. Rest.” Jen’s lips brushed against his forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
***
Brett opened his eyes. The world around him was pitch-black and he was lying down. He still wore the clothes he’d left in this morning, minus his tie and jacket. However, someone had unbuttoned his shirt. Slowly, the memories from the last several hours trickled back to him. He’d come home with a migraine. Sometime after his return Jen had arrived. She’d helped him into bed before going and buying him some medicine. He remembered her coming in to check on him periodically while he rested, although he couldn’t say exactly how many visits she’d made. He also remembered her rubbing his back while he lost the contents of his stomach in the bathroom. Afterward she’d handed him a damp facecloth and helped him back to bed. For all he knew though, that could have been five minutes or five hours ago. Regardless, he did know his head no longer felt as if someone was trying to split it in two.
Sitting up, he switched on the bedside lamp and checked his watch. Eleven o’clock. He’d been asleep longer than he’d thought.
The closing credits to the second Lord of The Rings movie greeted him when he entered the living room. All the lights in the room were turned off, but the television provided enough illumination for him to make out the sleeping form on the sofa.
Brett knelt down and ran a hand over her hair. She’d kicked off her shoes but still wore her shorts and T-shirt. A half-empty bowl of popcorn remained on the coffee table along with a full glass of water. He suspected the popcorn had been her dinner tonight. He certainly didn’t have many other options in the house. He’d been too busy to go shopping this week. Not that he’d been home much to eat anyway. He’d eaten at more restaurants and rest stops this week than he cared to remember. Since they’d planned to visit Tuscany, the Italian restaurant in town, tonight and then attend the fundraiser tomorrow night, he hadn’t seen his lack of food as a big deal.
Jen would never complain about her lack of food choices or the fact he’d spent their one night alone together in bed. Still, he’d find a way to make it up to her. Eventually. Considering his hectic schedule leading up to the primary, it might be a while.
Brett slipped his arms under her. He’d already won the award for world’s worst boyfriend tonight. He couldn’t let her spend the whole night on the sofa too.