My Own Mr. Darcy (34 page)

Janessa had left this
morning for her buying trip to New York. She wasn’t coming home for four more
days. I shuffled to the bathroom where I took two Tylenol with several swallows
of water. A few minutes later, I was under my covers. I’d taken my shoes off
but I was still in the skirt and blouse I’d worn to see Emma Cho.

I missed Janessa. I wanted
my mom. Scorching tears burned down my temple and into my ear. I hadn’t felt
like this for years—not since I was a junior in high school and had missed six
days of school with the flu. It didn’t take long to fall back asleep.

My clock said 10:06 when a
quiet chirping woke me up. Why didn’t I have my phone with me? It had stopped
by the time I made it to the living room, where I found my phone beside my
purse and keys on the entry table. It took me a minute to remember how I’d
gotten home the night before. Then I remembered Matt had driven me.

I looked at the missed
call. It was the bank. I was supposed to be at work. I hit the return call
button and a moment later Delia answered the phone.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Is this Elizabeth?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I should
have called.”

“You sound terrible. Are
you okay?”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. I
just got really sick last night. I’m pretty sure I have the flu. I don’t think
I can come in.”

“Of course not. We don’t
want you sharing the flu.”

“I’m sorry, Delia. I’ll
try to come in tomorrow.”

“No, sweetie. That’s not a
good idea. You stay home until you’re well.”

I took my phone with me
and went back to bed and slept until the late afternoon sun was slanting
through the blinds, making bright stripes on the bed. Matt called sometime
before it got dark. “Hey Elizabeth. How are you feeling?”

“Crappy. I think I have
the flu.”

“Have you been able to get
some rest?”

“That’s all I’ve done
today.”

“Good. I was worried about
you last night.”

“Thanks for bringing me
home.”

“No problem. Is your
roommate there?”

“She’s in New York.”

“So you’re alone?”

“It’s okay.”

Matt let out a long
breath. “Elizabeth, I’d come over but with the Grand opening next weekend, I don’t
want to catch anything.”

“I hope I’m better by
then.”

“Me too. I want you to
come.”

I don’t know if Matt said
anything for a minute. I think I dozed for several seconds.

“I think I’ll go back to
sleep,” I said.

“Of course. Good idea.”

“Goodnight, Matt.”

“Elizabeth, be sure to
call me if you need anything.”

“Good night.”

My sleep was restless and
filled with strange dreams. When I’d stir, I was so disoriented I didn’t know
if I’d been asleep for several hours or a couple of days. When I had enough
clarity I’d use the bathroom and take more Tylenol. Sometimes I woke up sweaty
and hot. I’d throw my covers off and go back to sleep only to wake up sometime
later shivering and cold. My phone showed I’d missed three phone calls—one from
Janessa and two from Mom.

I dialed Mom’s number.

“Hi Lizzie.”

“Hi mom. I saw you called
twice.”

“I did, but it was last
night. Dad and I called to see if we had time to run over and see the room you
did in the bookstore.”

“You called last night?”

“When we didn’t get an
answer, we just stayed home and watched some television. We saw the best
documentary about Abraham Lincoln.”

“That’s great, Mom. Sorry
I didn’t answer.”

“Where were you?”

“I was here.”

“You don’t sound good.
What’s the matter?”

“I’ve been sick. I think
it’s been a couple of days.”

“Why didn’t you call me? Do
you need anything? Would you like me to make a doctor’s appointment?”

“That’s okay, Mom. I’ve
just got the flu. I’ve had it a couple of days so I think I’m probably on the
mend.”

“Honey, I can come pick
you up and bring you home, if you want.”

“No, Mom. That’s okay.
I’ve just been sleeping. I’ll be fine.”

“Just call me if you
change your mind. I’ll come right over and get you.”

“Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Be sure
to drink plenty of water and get plenty of rest.”

I looked down at my
crumpled skirt and blouse. How many days had I been wearing them? Was this the
second day or the third? I checked the date on my phone. Ugh. Three days in the
same clothes and there was no way to know how many times they’d been soaked
with sweat and then dried.

My stomach rumbled and I
realized I was starving. Had I eaten anything?

I rummaged through the
kitchen trying to find something that looked good. Nothing did but I knew I
needed to eat something. I was weak with hunger. I threw away an overripe
banana and drank a glass of orange juice. When I couldn’t find anything I wanted
to eat, I dropped one of Janessa’s strawberry Pop Tarts into the toaster and
laid my head down on the counter while I waited for it to pop back up. I forced
myself to finish it even though the cloying sweetness made me want to gag.

The crumb of energy the Pop
Tart provided and my crusty blouse were enough to drive me to the shower. I
stood under the water, keeping my balance with a hand on the wall. I managed to
wash my hair and soap my body before exhaustion made it almost too difficult to
rinse myself completely. I tried to brush my hair but my arms ached at the
effort so I went back to bed without finishing.

A little after five, my
phone woke me up.

“Hello.”

“Hi Lizzie. Can you talk
or are you still at work?”

“Chad?” My mind was
muddled and foggy.

“Is this Lizzie?”

“It’s me. I didn’t work
today. I’ve been sick for a few days.”

“A cold?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s just
the flu.”

“Just the flu?”

I smiled. “Just the flu.”

“You don’t even sound like
yourself,” Chad said.

“I promise it’s me.”

“You poor thing. My mom
swears a bowl of hot soup fixes everything. Tell Janessa to make you a bowl of
soup.”

“I’ll tell her when she
gets back in town.”

“She’s not there?”

“She’s in New York.”

“Have you been alone this
whole time?”

“It’s okay. I’ve just been
sleeping.”

“Have you eaten anything?”

“I had a Pop Tart earlier
today.” Chad was quiet for so long I finally asked, “Are you still there?”

Chad sighed. “I’m here.”

I was suddenly afraid he
was going to hang up. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to hear his voice until
I fell back asleep. Somehow I had to keep the conversation going. “Did you need
something?”

“No, I don’t need
anything,” Chad said.

“Well, you called so I
thought . . .”

“Oh, right. I wanted to
see how your appointment with Emma Cho went.”

“It was pretty good. I’m
supposed to think about her offer and let her know in a week or two.”

“She made you an offer?”

“Sort of.”

“I’m sorry, Lizzie. You
sound tired. You can tell me about this another time.”

“No! I mean, that’s okay.
I don’t mind telling you now.” I told Chad about the meeting with Emma.”

“She must really be
impressed.”

My thoughts were coming
slower. “I’d really like to work with her.”

“Lizzie, I’m going to let
you sleep now.”

“Oh.” My mind was too
fuzzy to think. “Are you sure?” That was a dumb thing to say.

Chad laughed. “You sound
tired.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s not quite
five-thirty.”

“Okay. Thanks for calling
Chad.”

“Take care, Lizzie.”

I turned off my phone and
rolled over.

I’d been asleep for about
an hour when a knock at the door woke me. I thought about ignoring it but then
the knock came again. By the time I reached the door, whoever was on the other
side was knocking a third time. Or was it a fourth?

I looked through the
peephole.

It was Chad!

I cracked the door a few
inches. “You should have told me you were coming. I look like death.”

Chad laughed. “Lizzie, I
don’t care what you look like. I’m here to keep you from starving to death. Can
I come in?”

I swung the door open for
him and stepped aside. Chad walked through holding two bags.

“What is that?” I asked.

“In this one is chicken
noodle soup and rolls from the Soup Pantry. In this one is a chocolate cake.”

“Mmm. That sounds
delicious.”

“And,” Chad said as he
reached into the second bag. “I thought you might be bored so I asked myself
what movie would make you feel better. How did I do?” He held up a DVD of
Pride
and Prejudice
.

I smiled. “You did good.”

“You go sit down. I’ll
bring this in to you.”

Instead of sitting down, I
went to the bathroom. Horrified, I looked at my reflection. I looked ready for
Halloween. My skin was sallow with dark circles under my sunken eyes. My hair
looked like a clown wig from the bottom of a box, flat in places and a
disheveled, frizzy mess in others. My sweatshirt and flannel pajamas hung
loosely on my hungry body.

I tried to tame my hair
and then gave up and pulled it into a messy bun instead. I considered a little
makeup but the effort I’d exerted on my hair left me weary. I gave up and went
back to the living room.

Chad walked in just after
me. “You don’t have any trays so I used a cookie sheet,” he said.

On the cookie sheet was a
bowl of steaming soup, a buttered roll and a glass of ice water. “This looks so
good,” I said.

“Eat up. There’s plenty. I
bought a gallon of soup.”

“Are you having some?”

“I’ll get mine in a
minute. I wanted to get you all situated.”

Chad put the cookie sheet
on the coffee table and covered me with a throw before placing the tray on my
lap. “Don’t wait for me. Just eat.”

The first bite of soup
tasted like a spoonful of heaven. The noodles were thick and substantial and
the broth was rich and flavorful. I moaned in delight.

“You like it, huh?” he
said walking back in the room with his own bowl of soup.

“I don’t think I’ve ever
tasted anything so delicious.”

We ate in silence. I was
glad. I was too tired to talk and I didn’t want to stop eating anyway. I felt
like a survivor on a desert island who hasn’t tasted real food in months. That
wasn’t that far from the truth.

“Do you want more?” Chad
asked as he took my tray.

I shook my head. “Maybe
later.”

“What about cake?”

“Maybe a little piece if
you’re having some.”

“I’ll eat cake with you,”
Chad said.

A short time later he
walked in with two slices of cake. I’d only planned to eat a couple of bites
but it was so delicious I couldn’t stop, even though each bite was an effort to
lift my fork to my mouth.

Chad took my dirty plate.
I snuggled back on the couch and pulled the throw over my shoulders. I drifted
in and out of sleep to the sound of Chad washing dishes in my kitchen.

“Lizzie,” Chad whispered
and I opened my eyes. “I’m going to go.” I shifted to sit up and he patted my
shoulder. “You don’t have to get up,” he said.

I didn’t want him to
leave. “No. Please. I want to watch the movie.”