Still the One

Chapter 5 - The Return of the Caveman

I knew there was going to be fallout; I couldn't call someone a misogynist and chauvinist on air and not have people react – something I hadn't given any thought to as I was doing it, as Rick was quick to point out.

"Do you think he had a right to speak to me that way?" I asked, incredulous. My feet were placed apart for balance and my hands firmly on my hips – a pose any man would recognise as spoiling for a fight.

"No, of course not..."

"Should I have just rolled over and let him? Is that what you're saying? Be a good little woman and let him treat me like a...a...dishcloth?"

"No! Cara..."

"Well, what the hell is it you think I should have done, Rick? I wish you'd tell me!"

"Then quit interrupting and let me get a word in edgeways!"

We stood glaring at each other; my blood was once again at boiling point and I knew I needed to calm down before I said or did something I would later regret – but I was having a lot of trouble paying attention to my saner self right now. Just as Rick opened his mouth again to talk, Marcus came in to the room, took one look at me and said, "Cara, are you okay? You look kind of peaky."

"I'm fine, I'm..." I began brushing him off then realised I did actually feel a little off colour. "Actually, I'm..." I looked around for a chair just as a faint wave of dizziness came over me. Rick and Marcus immediately rushed to my side, catching me before I could stumble, and while Rick held me, Marcus grabbed a chair and placed it behind me.

"Shit!" Rick exclaimed, sending Marcus for a glass of water then getting out his phone.

"Who are you calling?" I asked in a tone that may still have sounded a little peevish.

"A doctor."

"I don't need a doctor," I scowled.

Rick just looked at me. "If Benedict were here, would he be calling a doctor?"

"Well, crap," I replied, "if you're going to play the 'what would the doting husband do' card..." I sighed; he was right, of course, Ben would call a doctor. I accepted it and stopped scowling at my friend and manager. As we waited, more band members came into the room once they heard we were back, my anger appeased when all of them backed me up and said they'd have called McArdle far worse than I did. I snuck brief glances at Rick to judge his reaction but he was keeping a poker face and I wasn't sure whether or not that boded well for me later.

The doctor pronounced my blood pressure a little high and recommended bed rest for twenty-four hours; thankfully, we didn't have a show that night but we were due to fly to Ottawa the next day for a show in two days time. The travel we could easily postpone and the doctor assured me I should be all right to do the show as long as I followed his instructions. With the health of my babies in mind, I promised to follow them to the letter and allowed Marcus and Callie to take me up to my room. By now the phones of all those on Twitter, Reddit and Snapchat were going crazy with reactions to my interview – mostly on my side, they told me - and Rick was fielding non-stop calls from radio and TV stations. He gave them all a blanket 'no comment'.

I'd been resting for three hours when a light knock heralded the arrival of Rick's head round my door. "How are you feeling?" he asked, coming in quietly and approaching the bed.

"I'm fine." He nodded but remained standing. "How bad is it?"

He shrugged. "Not too bad. A few die-hards are calling for your blood but there're plenty who think he had it coming, so all-in-all...seventy-thirty maybe."