Doc sighed. “Her temperature is up slightly and she has a bit of a red throat. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s coming down with a cold. But what really worries me is that she seems rundown. She appears to have lost weight. She isn’t eating or drinking enough. How about sleep? Is she getting regular naps?”
Clint’s jaw was tight as he shook his head. Poor Clint.
“Right. Since this is not the first time we’ve run into this issue and because we want you to be fully well for your wedding, I’m grounding you and putting you on bed rest.”
Her mouth dropped open. Grounding her? Could he do that? She looked over at Clint, who was frowning. Was he going to object?
“For a week?” Clint asked.
Wait. He was going along with this? Were they actually serious?
“Let’s make it five days. Depends on how quickly this temperature disappears. You’ll need to put her back on the suppository vitamins again.”
Clint just nodded. Crap. This kept getting worse and worse. She didn’t want those damn suppositories again. And she definitely didn’t want to be grounded or on bed rest. Whatever the hell all that entailed.
“What? You can’t ground me.” She looked from Doc to Clint. “Can he?”
“He’s Doc. Of course he can, if he thinks that’s what’s best for your health.”
“What does being grounded mean?” she asked. It was a first for her, surprisingly.
“It means you’re not leaving the house,” Doc told her, pointing at her. “You’re staying in bed for at least two days. I will visit again then to reassess. It means no phone. No computer. You can watch T.V. or read if you’re bored. But I want daily naps.”
She was expected to not only lie around in bed but be able to nap and sleep? What the hell? And she could watch T.V. or read? She was going to go insane. She had so much to do. She needed her phone. She had things to organize. And her bridal shower was in four days.
“I can’t do that,” she croaked. “The wedding is in ten days. I don’t have time to lie around in bed.”
“You’re doing what Doc says, Charlotte,” Clint told her firmly.
“But…at least…can’t I have my phone? I can do most of it from bed if I have my phone.”
“Nope,” Doc said. “I want total rest. You’re grounded because you haven’t been taking care of your health. If you’d told Clint that you were feeling dizzy or tired or ill then I would have just prescribed some vitamins and rest. But since I know you would keep going until you collapsed again, you’re grounded.”
“This isn’t fair. How am I supposed to get anything done? There’s still so much to do. I can’t manage it all if I don’t…have…access…” She suddenly found it harder to take in a breath. Her throat tightened, the room spinning dizzily.
“Whoa, little darling. It’s all right. Don’t panic. Hey. It’s okay.” Clint moved around on the bed so he was facing her, he took her hands in his. She felt so small. His big hands dwarfed hers.
“Calm down. Everything will be okay.”
“It won’t…it won’t be. It will all be a mess. I’ve got so much to do. I don’t…I don’t…”
“Easy. Just breathe. Just breathe, Charlotte.”
“Nice deep breaths, Charlie,” Doc coaxed calmly. “In. One. Two. Out. One. Two. That’s it.”
“Good girl,” Clint added, his gaze steady on hers. “I’m here. You’re fine. There’s no need to panic.”
Her breaths started to come more easily and the room steadied. A wave of exhaustion washed through her and she slumped back against the pillows behind her.
“Everything will work out all right, little darling,” Clint reassured her.
“How? How will I get it all done?”
“You won’t,” he told her simply. “I will.”
“What?” She gaped at him. What was he trying to say?
“I’ll take over organizing everything. Write me a list with details and I’ll do it all.”