Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
“Do you want me to come with you?” she asks.
“Nah, that’s okay.” I smile and kiss her on the cheek. “Go do your thing. We’ll make our own fun.”
An hour and a half and a huge stomach full of pizza later, I find myself pulling up in Cameron’s driveway with Owen in the car.
I can’t stop thinking that something is wrong. His call was off and has left me feeling uneasy.
Part of my job as Owen’s mother is to make sure his father is safe, I justify to myself.
There is nothing weird about me checking on him. I’m just being a responsible mother.
“What are we doing?” Owen calls from the back seat.
“Umm, I just want to check on Dad. He’s sick and I want to make sure he’s alright.”
He smiles, unbuckles his seatbelt, and is out of the car before I even turn off the engine. The guard opens the gates on sight and I walk through and up to the front door. Owen has already gone in. The door must have been unlocked.
“Dad,” Owen calls as he runs into the kitchen and I take the stairs two at a time.
Something is definitely off here.
I find him in bed, shaking, covered in a layer of sweat.
“What the hell, Cam?” I whisper as I go to him.
He closes his eyes. “What are you doing here?” he croaks.
I put my hand on his forehead and he is burning up with a raging temperature. “Checking on you. Why didn’t you call me?” I snap.
“I’m fine.” He shivers.
“You are not fine. We need to get this temp down. Get up.”
“I’m fine.” He snaps.
I disappear into his bathroom and turn the shower onto a cool tepid stream. I walk back into his room as Owen bounces through the door. “Dad.” He smiles excitedly.
Cameron frowns in horror that his son is seeing him like this.
“Dad’s sick, baby. He needs to cool down,” I tell him.
Owen’s face falls as he watches his father shiver in bed.
“Come on, help me get him up.” I grab Cameron’s arm and pull him. “Cam. You need to have a shower and we need to get this temp down,” I urge. “Have you had any medication?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“I thought you were a doctor.” I frown with a shake of my head. “Where is your medicine cabinet?”
“In the cupboard, downstairs.” He sighs.
I turn to Owen. “Where does Dad keep the band aids?” I ask.
“In the kitchen.”
“Can you show me?”
Owen scoots downstairs and I follow him and retrieve the Tylenol as well as a glass of water.
I return upstairs and force feed them to Cameron, and then get him up and lead him to the bathroom. Shit, I think I’m going to have to take him to emergency. He’s so sick. What kind of virus is this?
“Owie, go and put some cartoons on. We’ll stay here for a while.”
“Yay!” Owen calls as he disappears downstairs and I hear the television turn on in the distance.
I put my hand under the shower and I turn to Cameron and grab his face as I look into his eyes. He’s near delirious. “Cameron, are you alright?” I ask.
He nods.
“Get in the shower.”
He puts his hand out to the shower screen to steady himself on his feet.
Shit, is he going to faint?
“Cameron,” I repeat. “Are you going to fall?”
He drops his head as he tries to stay upright and holds the wall for support.
“In the shower,” I snap. Damn it. I bend and slide his boxer shorts down his legs and lead him into the shower until he’s under the cool water. He stands as he holds the tiles.
“Just stay under there for a while,” I tell him as I fuss around grabbing towels. I would tell him to sit down, but I don’t think I will be able to get him back up.
I take a seat on the edge of the bath as I watch him standing beneath the water.
He’s naked, and for the first time since I’ve known him, completely vulnerable. For twenty minutes, I sit quietly as he stands under the water. I change the sheets on his bed, and eventually, I walk over to the shower and feel his forehead again.
“How do you feel?” I ask as I check his face temp with the backs of my fingers.
“I’m okay,” he answers quietly.
“How long have you been like this?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I woke up last night, throwing up. That’s stopped, but the temperature has gotten higher.”
“Cam.” I shake my head. “You know this is dangerous. Why didn’t you call me?”
He closes his eyes, as though embarrassed. “I’m fine.”
“You are not fine. If I can’t get this temperature down, I’m taking you to hospital.”
He nods as he concedes defeat.
“Come on, back to bed.” I hold a towel out for him and he exits the shower. I wrap him in it and he drops his head to my shoulder in desperate need of comfort.