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I had no idea what day it was, and time was irrelevant at the moment. Sometime after we got on the road from Arkansas to Tennessee, I came down with a terrible cold and laid miserable in the bed for the majority of the nine-hour drive it took for us to get there. Or at least that was how long John assured Lily it was when she complained that we had been driving for hundreds of hours already.
The few times that I got up were to use the bathroom or to get more tissue. I kept a few plastic bags beside me that I used as a trashcan before they filled up quickly. When we stopped for gas earlier, John went inside and bought a handful of Gatorade, assorted medicines, and an endless supply of tissue. Only, it turned out that the end came quickly as I stared at my last box.
We were almost to Great Smoky Mountains National Park when John made another quick stop for more supplies. I felt terrible and imagined that I looked even worse every time he grimaced when he looked at me. This time when he came back, he had a thermometer that he insisted on using to make sure I wasn’t running a fever and nighttime medicine to help me sleep off whatever this was.
Lily had sat at the table most of the day, from what I remembered, and didn’t talk much. I imagined that she was still upset with finding out that we had kissed. If I had any energy left inside of me, I would have made an effort to check in with her and make sure she was okay. Instead, I had to pray that John was already taking care of it. I also had to keep reminding myself that this would no longer be something for me to worry over. Lily was John’s daughter, not mine, and I needed to remember my role in all of this.
“Emma,” John said softly, gently shaking my arm to wake me. “I need you to take some more medicine. Can you wake up?”
I tried to roll over, but it felt hopeless. My body ached in more places than I could count. I felt terrible that he was having to take care of me and wished that I could just curl up in bed and not bother them. I knew that I was putting a damper on the trip, and I hated it.
“Come on, Emma. I know that you’re tired, but I need you to take more Tylenol. Your fever is climbing again.”
I felt something cold on my forehead and looked up to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, pressing a cold washcloth against my feverish skin while holding the pills in his other hand.
“There you go,” he said encouragingly. “Just go slow, take your time.”
I tried to roll over onto my side, groaning when it hurt more than anything. Finally, I laid on my back, giving up for the moment.
“I would ask how you’re feeling, but I can see that you’ve only gotten worse.” The worry in his voice was thick, and even though it shouldn’t, it warmed my heart that he cared so much about me.
“Where’s Lily,” I whispered, trying to talk around the dry ache in my throat.
“She’s sitting up front, looking for fireflies.”
“I feel terrible,” I croaked, turning to the side to cover my mouth as I coughed. “I know how bad she wanted to watch them.”
The next item on her bucket list was sit and be still; maybe they’ll come. When they light up, it’s even more fun.
It bummed me out that she had to miss out on it because I was so sick, and John was stuck taking care of me instead of sitting outside with her to watch them. When we talked about the list yesterday at breakfast, John had a cheeky smile when he told her that he had picked the Great Smoky Mountains National Park for us to stay at tonight because it was supposed to be the best place to see them. I was rather impressed by how much research he had done in advance and that he was taking everything on the bucket list seriously, knowing how much it meant to Lily.
“Don’t worry about that right now,” he said gently, leaning over to help me as I tried to sit up. “I’ll take her outside to look at them in a few minutes, but I need to tend to you first.”
“You don’t have to take care of me,” I muttered, swatting my hand around in the air. I felt drunk and completely out of it.
He handed me the two pills in his hand and waited for me to pop them in my mouth before passing me the bottle of Gatorade that was sitting next to me.
“Is it really that bad to have me take care of you?”
“It’s not your job, John. You take care of Lily. I can take care of myself.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think you can take care of yourself right now. Besides, I’m fully capable of taking care of both of you.”
I took a drink and swallowed the pills, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand when I was done. It wasn’t my fault that the mouth to the bottle was huge and hard to drink out of without making a little mess.
I laid down and turned to look at him. He placed the cold rag on my head again then his knuckles gently caressed the side of my cheek.
“I’m not yours to take care of,” I mumbled, already falling back asleep. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, but you’re not mine either.”