Free Dream Lover by Té Russ

to close it.
    “And why not?”
    “I'm sick, you can't be around me.”
    “I already let Marnee and the other managers for the restaurants know I'd be away until further notice. It's all taken care of.”
    “You can't come in here John. I must look like the swamp thing.”
    “I've seen you look a mess time and time again Peaches.”
    She was silent.
    “Why would you care about how you look around me all of sudden unless....” He let the rest hang in the air, but she knew exactly what he was implying and defiantly swung the door open as if to prove a point. She glared at him for a moment clearly annoyed then began to have a coughing fit. He sat the bags down by the door and picked her up and carried her back to the couch.
    “I could have very well walked to the couch.”
    “I know,” he replied. He laid her down on the couch and covered her up with a blanket.
    She sneezed.
    “Bless you.”
    “Thank you.”
    He walked back by the door and pick up the bags. Unable to contain her curiosity, she rose up on her elbows and peeked at him. “What's in the bags?”
    He looked over his shoulder at her and smiled. Holding one bag up at a time he said, “Clothes, and food.”
    At her raised eyebrow, he continued. “The clothes are so I don't have to leave to go to my place to change. And I know all Randi made you was a can of that processed crap soup, so I'm going to make you some real soup.”
    So Randi had told. She'd had a feeling that Randi would tell John that she was sick. She didn't expect him to show up so fast.
    It was too late to complain now. He was here and he wasn't going anywhere. She laid back down covering her hand with her face. Soon she felt John's strong hand moving her hand and replacing it with his own on her forehead.
    “You clearly have a fever,” he mumbled. Then he stood and grabbed his bags. “I'll put these in the guest room,” he said holding up one bag. “Then I'll get started on your soup. Do you need anything?”
    She pointed to a piece of paper on the coffee table. “I went to the doctor this morning.” She coughed then continued. “He called in a prescription for me, but I haven't gone to pick it up yet.”
    He nodded. “Once your soup is done, I'll go pick it up for you.”
    She sneezed then nodded, laying her head back on the pillow.
    “Johnny,” she whispered. He turned to look at her. “I'm glad you're here.”
    He walked back over to her and leaned down and kissed her on her warm forehead. “Get some rest,” was all he said, but in his eyes he was telling her where else would I be?
     
    Liz had a fitful sleep, coughing and sneezing. Soon the smells of fresh chicken noodle soup filled her nostrils and John's deep voice filled her ears.
    “Peaches, wake up honey, you have to eat.”
    She felt weak, but she pushed herself up slightly and opened her eyes to see a spoon in her face. She took a sip of the soup. John was right, his was much better than the stuff out of the can.
    “That's it sweetheart,” she heard him say, “ Eat some more.”
    The warmth of the soup going down her throat was soothing. She felt full after eating about half of the soup. She flopped back against the couch and shook her head letting him know she could eat no more.
    “You did good Peaches.”
    She felt herself being lifted and carried to her bedroom. She snuggled into the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around him. Soon she felt her plush bed underneath her and her soft covers surrounding her.
    She vaguely heard John whisper something in her ear. Something about her prescription? She just nodded to whatever he said. Then she allowed the sleep to claim her completely.
     
    True to his word, John never left, except for the one time to pick up her prescription. He couldn't remember a time seeing Liz so sick. Besides feeding her and giving her medicine, he also straightened up around the place. Later that night, he went and checked her temperature, feeling her forehead. Her fever had gone down