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Chapter twelve

Robbie

“Honey, I’m home!” I call out as I open Naomi’s front door. Just like the last time I came back, I’m met with no response and a lingering smell of lemon zest and sweet berries.

“Hello?” I say again, shutting the door behind me and dropping my things in a pile by the door. “I brought you something—Naomi?”

A full-body panic hits me like a brick wall when I finally catch sight of her in the kitchen.

She’s leaning over the top of the island with her head resting on her folded hands in the middle of a small mound of flour.

Her eyes are closed, strands of her hair are lying haphazardly across her face, and her mouth is slightly parted.

The way her body is positioned makes it look like she just ran out of energy and slumped over right on the spot.

“Hey,” I say urgently, rushing to jostle her shoulders in an attempt to wake her. Her skin feels hot and clammy under my fingers, and upon closer inspection, her cheeks are flushed a crimson red. She’s burning up and completely lifeless. I jostle her again, a frantic dread surging inside my chest.

“Hmm?” she murmurs. A wave of relief extinguishes a bit of my panic when her eyes slowly open, but not enough to quell the way my mouth has gone completely dry, or the way my heart is racing a million miles per minute. What the heck happened here?

“What’s going on?” I demand. “Why are you passed out in the middle of the kitchen?”

“I’m baking…” She attempts to stand upright but, instead, doubles over, collapsing her body weight against me.

“Are you sick?” I hook my arm under her rib cage and grip tightly to steady her.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say I feel great,” she slurs her words before taking a deep breath, widening her eyes. “I can’t stop.” She attempts to push against me. “This order needs to be delivered tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. The only place you’re going is straight to bed,” I tell her.

“Mm-hmm.” Her attempt to disagree with me is nothing but a weak hum and a minuscule shake of the head.

“Let’s go. I’ll help you to your room.” I tighten my grip and start leading her across the living room, one unsteady step at a time.

“But…there are cupcakes that need to be frosted,” she murmurs, barely lifting a finger to point to the kitchen.

“Yeah, no offense…but I think we’re just going to throw this batch away,” I say under my breath.

She leans her full body weight against me, unable to hold herself up any longer. We make it halfway across the living room when her head slumps lower, going completely limp as she faints into my arms. Seeing her unconscious sparks a fire of panic in my stomach.

“No, no, no,” I grunt, using my other arm to hoist her up at the knees, holding her horizontally against my chest as a desperate worry sends me racing to the garage.

“Come on, Naomi. Wake up,” I plead. Once I have her carefully buckled into the car, I dash inside to grab the keys.

Terror floods through me as the panic deepens with each passing second—I feel like I’m walking through quicksand with each step, not able to go nearly as fast as I need to.

I manage to grab what I need and race out of the driveway, her body still slumped against the passenger door nearly lifeless.

The entire drive to the hospital is a panicked blur—one filled with desperation and me constantly reaching over to check her pulse. She manages to come to eventually, but she’s too weak to give me any kind of verbal confirmation that she’s okay.

I screech the car to a stop in front of the emergency entrance and sprint to her side of the car.

As I hoist her into my arms, she curls her head under my neck, the entirety of her weight falling against me.

This entire situation is saturated with fear and desperation, but the weight of her body against me provides some small amount of comfort.

As long as she’s in my arms, I can carry her to get help.

It’s not until a nurse waves me over to a triage bay and I lay her down on an exam table that I feel like I can take a full breath—only for it to be immediately taken away a moment later.

As a group of medical professionals rushes to surround Naomi, I step out of the way and come face to face with a person I didn’t even think to brace myself for potentially running into here.

My brother, Steven.

I freeze, completely immobile as he darts past me to assess Naomi. My eyes follow Steven’s movement, but all I can do is stand frozen in place. At some point within the chaos of beeping machines and medical lingo, someone ushers me away to the waiting room down the hall.

I slump into the nearest chair, letting my head drop into my hands, reeling from not only what’s happening with Naomi but also from seeing my brother. I was not at all prepared for this amount of emotional onslaught today.

This right here—this entire situation—is exactly why I don’t like coming home. The chance of running into one of my family members lurks at every corner—a jarring encounter I’ve dreaded but managed to avoid for years now.

As upsetting as it is in itself, all the pain I’m feeling is secondary in this moment. I push aside thoughts of my brother and focus on the most important thing right now.

Naomi.

For thirty minutes, I pace the floor, trying to quell the fear that’s gnawing away at my stomach.

What could possibly be wrong? Why did she lose consciousness?

What if something is seriously wrong with her?

I won’t know what to do with myself if she’s gravely ill.

I refuse to let my thoughts stay there, but my body doesn’t get the same message.

I’m a completely sweaty, panicked ball of nerves as I wait for any updates.

After what feels like forever, my pacing is interrupted by the swing of the door opening. Steven makes direct eye contact with me immediately as he steps inside the room.

“Is she okay?” I blurt out, rushing to him.

“She’s fine,” he says, holding his palms up to reassure me. “And she’s coherent enough to give me permission to update you. I knew how worried you were.”

“What’s wrong with her?” I demand.

“Our tests show she has Influenza B. It’s a particularly nasty strain that’s going around,” he explains.

“But it’s summer. We’re nowhere near flu season,” I blurt out, confused.

“It can spread at any time,” he explains. “From what I gather, she’s been under a considerable amount of stress, which I’m sure played a part in how hard it hit her.”

“Jeez.” I run my fingers through my hair, a mix of relief and concern swirling through my body.

“She’s resting. We’re giving her fluids and monitoring her for a while, but then she’ll be discharged to rest at home.”

The words ‘thank you’ sit at the tip of my tongue, but my stubborn mouth can’t commit to saying them. Instead, I give him a quick nod. Now that the intense worry for Naomi has loosened its grip, the fog clears enough to remind myself who is in front of me.

“Listen, Robbie—” he starts.

“If this isn’t about Naomi, I don’t want to hear it,” I cut him off. I have no interest in discussing anything else with him, especially right now.

“Come on, I just—” he tries again.

“I mean it,” I say firmly.

My expression must match my stern tone, because he backs away, silently retreating out of the room with a look on his face that I’m too distracted at the moment to analyze.

Once he’s gone, I sink into a chair, dropping my head into my hands with pure relief.

A few deep breaths help to calm my heart rate—at least enough so I can think straight.

Then I can’t help but start analyzing my emotions.

Why did I get so worked up like that? Concern for a friend, yes, but it feels like there was something more there that I can’t put my finger on.

Seeing her in that state gave me such a visceral reaction I clearly had no control over.

But why? It’s not like she’s the first person in the world to get the flu.

A small, nagging thought creeps up in the back of my mind. A reason, an explanation, that would also rationalize why I felt the urge to call her from the road. Why she hasn’t strayed far from my mind. And why I’m even here in the first place.

Nah.

I shake the implication from my head. I was simply worried for somebody who means a lot to me—in a completely platonic way.

Yes. That’s all there is to it.

Shoving the thoughts out of my head, I leave the waiting room to go sit by Naomi’s bedside.