Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 144696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
His head dropped, and he nodded miserably. “I know,” he admitted after a moment. “I’m not sure what to do if I’m not working.”
“I understand that you’re feeling helpless right now. But I owe it to all the poor people who work for you to keep you from micromanaging their jobs.” I stepped behind him and rubbed his shoulders, carefully avoiding his port. “Do you want me to teach you to knit?”
“No. And honestly, I can’t focus on this.” He pushed back from the desk. “I can’t focus on anything and I’m bored. It’s not a pleasant combination.”
“Is there anything you want me to do for you?” His helpless feeling was catching.
“No. I think I’m going to take a nap. I’m a little nauseated.”
The next day went exactly the same, with Neil just slightly sick to his stomach, then tired earlier than usual.
The fourth day. That was when the magic happened.
The only time Neil woke up, it was to vomit profusely, to the point that I became alarmed. Josh the nurse reassured me that it was totally normal. Neil didn’t eat anything for the rest of the day, but sucked on some Miracle Berry tablets. He asked for Josh’s help getting him in clean pajamas and put to bed, and I knew then that things were really bad. Neil would rather cut off his own arm than ask anyone for help with anything, normally.
I went to bed when he did, laying beside him, reading Ahab’s Wife and listening to Neil’s deep, exhausted snoring. At some point, I fell asleep, and when I woke it was to a dark room and total silence. No snoring.
My heart lurched and I sat up, blinking my eyes in the dim light from the bedside lamp I hadn’t turned off. “Neil?”
“Did I disturb you? I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep.” His tone was weary; he’d been awake for some time.
I sat up beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist. He was chilled, his skin wet with perspiration. He smelled different, metallic and medicine-tinged. He shivered uncontrollably as I held him.
“Oh, baby,” I murmured. I felt guilty that I had been sleeping beside him while he’d been suffering. I pushed my hair back. “Is there anything I can do?”
His forehead creased, as tried to focus. I thought back to all the side effects I’d memorized by heart. Clammy skin, cold sweats, trouble sleeping, confusion... none of it should have been unexpected. I guess I had been feebly hoping that he wouldn’t have to deal with any of it.
“I don’t think there is?” He pressed the heel of his hand to his temple. “Maybe you should get the nurse? I feel terrible.”
“I can do that, sure. What do you want me to tell him? What do you need?” I slipped from the bed and grabbed my robe.
“I don’t know. I feel... something isn’t right.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and leaned his elbows on his knees. “If I move, I get dizzy, I’m drowning in my sweat... I think something must be wrong.”
“I’ll get him.”
I grabbed the phone on the nightstand and rang Josh’s cell. He picked up on the second ring, despite the fact the alarm clock said it was three-thirty in the morning. “Mr. Elwood?”
“Can you come to our room please?” I asked, the hysteria I held back crackling like electricity through my tight voice. “Neil is really not feeling well.”
As I said it, he stood and lurched for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
“I’ll be right down,” Josh said, instantly alert.
I hung up and padded toward the bathroom door. I’d just laid my hand on the handle when Neil called, “Sophie, please don’t come in.”
“Are you all right?” Now I was really worried. “Neil, are you okay?”
“It’s nothing to be alarmed about. It’s just bloody embarrassing.”
Oh no. Poor Neil. I felt awful for him, because I knew how controlled and composed he always tried to be. A run-of-the-mill toilet accident during chemo might be something other people had a sense of humor about, but not Neil.
“Josh is on the way down right now. Do you want me to leave?”
“Yes, I would. Perhaps you could... fetch me some tea?” he asked, his voice plaintive and wobbly.
He didn’t even like tea. He just wanted me to leave.
All I wanted to do was comfort him, but if the only way I could make him comfortable was by leaving, then I resolved I would do just that. “Okay. I’ll wait until Josh gets down here, and then I’ll go.”
I paced the floor a moment, helpless, then went to Neil’s wardrobe and pulled out a clean pair of pajamas. I handed them to Josh the moment he came in the door.
“He’s in the bathroom,” I explained in a low voice. “He’s had some trouble and he doesn’t want me around. I’ll be downstairs, ring the kitchen phone when he’s ready for me to come back up.”