This is a fictional story. All names, places, and viruses are used fictitiously. Resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, past or present, are intentional.
If you haven’t read from the beginning, please start at Chapter 1 here.
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Due Date: 75 days away
Liz got up and scraped her scrambled eggs into the trash.
“You’re done?” I asked. “Do you want anything else?”
“I wanted something to eat, and you’re making me feel bad about it.” Liz’s discomfort with the situation was reaching the boiling point. “I’m hungry. I don’t know why you can’t understand that.”
“I’m not making you feel bad about it. I made the eggs.”
She glared at me.
I went back to my breakfast.
It was our first meal of the day, but it was already a quarter after noon. Me being off work, and stressed, had pushed our schedule out the past few days. Liz was waking up around five when Shepherd came into our bed and then falling back to sleep. This morning, she’d been up for a while before I finally emerged.
“And I’m going to need you to pick up this living room,” she said before I finished the last of my meal.
I could feel my jaw set. It wasn’t that I hated picking up the living room. It was how she said it. If she’d added, “Be a parent,” I might have blown up at her.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she brought up Dr. Madison. Again.
“What did she say again, ‘they’re researching it’? What’s that even mean?”
“Her daughter died, Liz. We’ve been over this. What was I supposed to say?”
“We can’t just take him off his medicine like this, Ben. A week hasn’t been bad. So far. But we don’t know how long this’ll last.” She took a sip of her coffee and then set it down. “It’s already been over a month.”
“Why can’t we just trust her on this?”
“Oh, suddenly you can? I can’t remember the last time you even went to one of Kenneth’s appointments.”
“Last month,” I shot back.
“Doesn’t count. You only went because I made you go.”
“That’s not fair. Just because—”
I bit my tongue.
“Listen, I don’t know what your problem is,” I said. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“Call her!”
“It’s Saturday,” my voice raised to match hers.
“Fine. Monday. Whatever.” She shook her head at me. “We need to know what she knows about this. Why can’t we get grennadryn? That’s not right.”
I breathed deeply through my nose, my lips tight. I agreed with her, at least on that part. She wanted me to say something, but I didn’t give her that.
“I can’t right now,” she said.
She left the room and closed our bedroom door behind her.
“Fine. I’ll be here,” I called after her, “Cleaning the living room.”
At least I knew it wasn’t my hastily cooked eggs. I didn’t mean for them to be runny. I just meant to make a point.
For three hours, Shepherd and I watched random YouTube videos, him on the big TV, me on my phone. It kept him occupied. And me distracted. I didn’t even know what Kenneth was doing, probably back on his computer, like always. Even that bothered me, but I wasn’t doing anything about it.
When Liz finally opened the door, I’d cooled down. I didn’t know how she’d be. I didn’t know if three hours was long enough. She looked at me with her eyebrows together as she walked into the bathroom. I couldn’t tell if she was still upset or just still waking up.
After peeing, she came out, sat on the opposite couch, and leaned onto her side, pulling the blanket over herself as she tilted.
“I don’t feel well,” she said.
“Probably because you haven’t eaten anything.”
I sighed.
“Do you want some water?”
She nodded.
Shepherd took off his headphones and climbed on top of her, clearly being annoying, without trying. He just wanted his mama.
“Shepherd, please get off of her.”
He looked at me but kept at it.
“No, no. Get off.”
I stepped over and pulled him off of her.
Liz was sweating.
“Are you okay?”
“That’s what I’m saying, I don’t feel well.”
I put my hand on her forehead.
“Where’s our thermometer?” I asked.
