She answers, and I know she’s smiling by how upbeat she is. “Hey, sweetie. Why didn’t you FaceTime me?”
I inhale a deep breath, trying to find the strength to speak. “Mom.”
“Yes, dear?”
“I have a fever and feel like death. I’m terrified.” My voice trembles as I try to swallow down my fear. I don’t care that I’m twenty-two and nearly crying. Sometimes, I just want my mom to comfort me and say everything will be okay.
“How high is it?” The concern in her question is clear.
“When I just checked, it was 101,” I say with a small cough. “I was fine yesterday, but woke up like this,” I explain.
She lets out a fearful sigh. “Can you get tested so you know for sure?”
“They’re not testing people like me with no pre-existing conditions who’re young and healthy. Only if they have to be admitted. They’ll instruct me to stay home, take Tylenol, and if things get worse, call the helpline,” I repeat what I read online a few days ago, then take a sip of water.
“Did you call Ryan?” Mom asks, alarmed. “Maybe he can get you one?”
“I texted him, but he’s swamped, so I don’t know when I’ll hear back. He’ll say the same, though. I’ve watched the news, read all the articles, and am aware of what the process is right now.” The line is silent for a while. “Hello?”
“Yes, I’m still here. I’m extremely worried about you. If you would’ve listened, you’d be with me so I can take care of you. I’d call the family doctor to do a house visit, and he’d get you tested.”
This isn’t the time for her to power play me or use our family’s money to get special treatment. I’m not labeled high risk and would feel guilty when thousands of other people are being denied. “No, if I would’ve stayed home, you’d be sick too. Me being at the cabin is for the best for you and Daddy.” I try to ease her mind, but it’s no good. She’ll lose sleep over this regardless of what I say.
“Promise me if your temp rises or you have trouble breathing, you’ll go to the ER. The nearest hospital is only a half an hour away from you.”
“Okay, Mom,” I concede.
“Cameron,” she pushes, not satisfied with my response. “If I need to drive there, I will.”
“That’s unnecessary. The entire place needs to be disinfected. I’ll go if things get worse. Eli is here and will check on me, too,” I reassure her, hoping to ease her nerves. We’ve been FaceTiming or texting every couple of days since I’ve arrived and when I told her Eli was here too, she had a gleaming look in her eye. She adores him.
“I should be with you,” she argues with a huff.
“No, you shouldn’t. Please, just stay put,” I demand. “Being around me is too dangerous.”
She sighs again. “Cameron, I love you. I just want you to be healthy.”
“I know, Mom. I love you and Dad too. I should let you go, though, so I can rest,” I say calmly, wishing it would rub off on her.
“I’ll send your love. Please keep me updated,” she orders, and I agree before ending the call and going to the bathroom.
I take a shower, hoping it settles my nerves. As the water runs over my body, I lean against the wall. It’s almost too hot, but I breathe in the steam and flower-scented body wash. After a while, I slip on a fluffy robe and wrap a towel around my head.
As I’m walking into the bedroom, I hear a tap on the door. “Cami?”
“Yes?” I ask, going to the edge of the bed.
“I brought you something to eat. It’s on a tray on a small table I moved into the hallway,” he says.
I blink away tears at his sweet gesture. “Thank you.”
“Are you feeling any better?”
I look down at my pruned hands. “Not really, but I just got out of the shower, so I still feel really warm. The steam felt good, though.”
“Take two Tylenol every four to six hours,” he says on the other side of the door, and I hate that we have to stay so far apart. It’s torture after being so close to him.
“I will,” I mutter. “I appreciate you cooking. Hopefully, I can get it down.”
“If anything, it’ll help not to take the meds on an empty stomach and give you some strength.”
“Right now, all I want to do is sleep. Maybe I’ll wake up better.” I snort at my wishful thinking. “Are you okay so far?” I ask.
“Yeah, I feel great besides the fact that I can’t be near you. I miss you already. Chanel misses you, too,” he adds at the end, and it earns him a slight laugh. She must’ve snuck out earlier when he left.
“You can send her in,” I respond, knowing how often she annoys Bruno.
He chuckles. “Nah, she’s fine. The three of us are hanging out. She’s spilling all your secrets, though.”
Somehow, he has me smiling. Few people can do that so easily.
“Never trust a pussy. Sometimes they’re liars.” I grin.
On the other side, he snickers. “I’m walking away now so your food doesn’t get cold. Text me when you’re done, and I’ll come and grab the tray.”
“Okay, I will. Thanks again,” I say and hear his feet shuffle down the hallway with
