Casting Debbie

Chapter 18

Lou couldn't spend another day sulking around her very clean, but very empty house.

She'd spent the previous day scrubbing every toilet, every flat surface. Re-positioning every hanger in her closet. It didn't help. She was still so fucking alone she could hear the house creak. And Debbie was with Tammy. And it was all her fault.

"Gawwwwd," she groaned over her cup of coffee. Stupid. She was stupid. Debbie just wanted to have fun at that bar. Let loose a little. Their lives were hard right now, with the heavy shooting schedule.

Why couldn't Lou have seen that? Why did she have to turn it into something underhanded, as if Debbie was some big walking ulterior motive?

She turned on the sound system, cranking it up with Debbie's playlist. Who puts Stevie Nicks and Taylor Swift on the same playlist?

Lou smiled as "Red" filtered through the speakers. She poured herself a cup of coffee and stood at the window overlooking the pool, thinking about the time she'd caught Debbie dancing in the kitchen while she wiped down the counters.

Debbie wasn't embarrassed, because when did Debbie ever get embarrassed? No, she had taken Lou's hand and danced with her, twirling her around until they were both dizzy and had to hold onto each other so they didn't fall over. Debbie was sunshine.

Lou blinked away her tears. And blinked harder when she saw movement in the guesthouse. She almost dropped her coffee cup when she saw Debbie step out and shuffle toward the main house in her robe and slippers. Lou set her cup down and stood at the table, trying to look casual. She put a hand on her hip. No, that didn't look casual. She stuffed both hands in her jeans pockets.

Debbie opened the door and stood there for a second, staring at Lou.

"You look like hell."

"So do you." Lou furrowed her brow, because Debbie really did look like hell. "When did you... um..."

Lou watched Debbie pour herself a cup of coffee and shuffle back outside. Her heart was beating so hard, she covered her chest with her hand.

Debbie was home. And Lou wanted to cry again -tears of joy this time. She took a few breaths and pulled the elastic out of her hair, just in case she really did look like hell. She smoothed her hair down and tied it back up again, then went outside.

She knocked on Debbie's door and poked her head in. "Are you okay?"

Debbie was already back in bed, sipping on her coffee. "Don't come too close. I think I'm coming down with something."

Lou ignored the advice. She sat on the bed and checked Debbie's temperature, resting the back of her hand on her forehead.

"You're burning up."

"First class was full, and you know they put all the sick people in economy." Debbie shivered. "I feel cold. Do you think it could be Ebola? Or bubonic plague?"

Lou suppressed a giggle. "Now who's being dramatic? I'll be right back." She stepped outside, smiling from ear to ear. Debbie was back and she was making her usual silly jokes. What a relief.

A few minutes later, Lou came back with a box of supplies and Amita's medical kit. She put a temperature strip on Debbie's forehead. "What symptoms do you have? Headache? Nausea?"

"Headache, chills, achy muscles," Debbie said, using the sickliest voice she could conjure up. What do you think it is, nurse?"

Lou looked at her watch while she pretended to check Debbie's pulse. "It's that time of year. Maybe you caught something on the plane." She took the stethoscope out of the bag and pushed Debbie's robe aside, then slid the stethoscope under her t-shirt.