Short Stories (80s Version)

In Sickness and in Health (Stewart Copeland)

Inspired by me testing positive for covid

Tomorrow is the big day! My boyfriend comes home from touring after six months. I missed him so much and I couldn't wait to be with him. When I talked to him on the phone, I couldn't contain my excitement.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

Was our closing line from our phone calls. It could extend to "I love you the most" or "I love you the mostest" so neither of us would want to end the call.
We could have conversations that last for hours and could fall asleep on the phone if we have to.

I woke up at 6:00 the following morning with so much eagerness. I was hit with an achy feeling taking over my body. My head pounded, I was hot and cold and my throat felt scratchy. I could not be any more miserable. Maybe it's a cold, but I still want to check my temperature.

101.9

"Oh no." I hoarsely gasped.

It's more than a cold. Fever, aches, chills, sore throat: it might be the flu. I had an appetite and recently stocked on cold medications. I snacked on cherry cough drops like candy because I developed a terrible cough to match my other symptoms. No matter how many times I used the thermometer, my temperature still remains at 101.9. At least I wasn't nauseous. Out of all days, I got sick at the worst time possible.

Stewart is supposed to come home today and I have to go pick him up from the airport. I don't want him to see me in my present condition. My hoarse and nasal voice is going to give my ailment away.

My phone started ringing, but I was afraid that it would be him.

Just wait for the voicemail. I repeated over and over in my head.

Beep!

"Hi! It's me. You don't have to worry about picking me up. I rented a car, so I'll drive home. I should be there around 5:00 max. I love you."

Okay, now I don't have to panic much. He's coming home late so I can medicate and rest without rushing. Luckily, I just stocked on cold medicine, tissues and drinks. Maybe that will alleviate my symptoms.

~~~

I placed my hand over my eye. I must've dozed off after taking Benadryl and didn't realize.

4:19

The green numbers shone in my face. Wait.

4:19? He's going to be home in less than an hour. I can't believe I slept the majority of the time. Besides, I somewhat feel better than I did this morning.

I went to the kitchen to make myself some hot tea when I heard a car pull into my driveway before the front door slammed shut. Okay, he's thirty minutes early.

"I'm home!" He shouted.

I dashed into my bedroom and slammed the door shut before he made his way to the top of the stairs.

"Rachel, open the door." He begged.

"I'm contagious, so you should probably stay away from me." I warned.

"What's going on? Tell me."

"I think I have the flu."

"Can I get you anything?"

"A moment's peace."

"I meant some water? Tea? Soup? Anything?"

"I think we have chicken noodle in the cabinet."

I heard him walk downstairs and even with the door closed, various echos of cluttering in the kitchen almost made my headache worse. He returned and set a tray in front of my door. I gently picked it up and brought it into my room without being noticed.

He brought me some ice cream to soothe my throat some more and a thermos of iced water to keep by my bed. I hate that I'm sick, but I should be fortunate that he takes care of me.

"How are you doing in there?" He asked.

"Just finished my ice cream." I said.

I opened the door for him to take the bowl before shutting it.

"Rachel, you don't have to hide from me. I know you're sick, but you're still beautiful with a puffy face." He commented.

It got quiet after he last spoke to me. I didn't know if he left or not. I sat by the door.

"Stewart?" I said. "Are you still there?"

"I'm here." He answered.

I put my hand against the door and I could feel him do it, too.

"Don't go." I pleaded.

"I won't." He responded.

"You should go to bed. I'm okay."

"I have a blanket and pillow out here with me."

He's never done that for me before. I must be lucky then.

"In sickness and in health, right?" He joked.

That question made me raise an eyebrow.

"We're not married." I said.

He slid a note under the door with a diamond ring taped to the side.

"In sickness and in health, for better or for worse.
Will you marry me?"

"You don't have to answer right away." He included.

I peeled the tape off and put the ring on my finger before putting my hand on the door and sliding the note back to him.

"Does this mean yes?" He wondered, seeing that the ring was gone.

"Yes." I nodded.

Not the marriage proposal either of us had in mind, but it was something.