Chapter 36

chapter

thirty-six

OWEN

Thank fuck, Addie's okay.

She looks great in anything and everything—I've said it before, and I'll say it a million times more—but green is not a comforting look for her face.

She scared the shit out of me, but she returns from the locker room less green. Her eyes are red, though, so I'm not completely at ease just yet.

The bell rings for lunch soon after she approaches me, where I stand in front of her class, and all the students file out.

"Awesome class," one girl gushes as she sidesteps Addie and me.

"Taylor for the win," I say back, spreading my arms to my sides. Once we're alone, I give Addie a once-over and ask, "How are you feeling?"

She rubs her stomach. "My throat's a little sore, but I think I can manage the rest of the day. Hopefully."

"Why don't I take you home? Sable or a sub can fill in for your class."

"Or you could." She points to where her students were just previously scattered. "Were you analyzing Taylor Swift lyrics?"

"Her song ‘I Can Do It with a Broken Heart' has many levels. We didn't even get to the half of it."

Addie appraises me with what appears to be a mix of awe and disbelief. "You've actually listened to Taylor Swift?"

"Duh." I scoff. "I have three sisters—I'm an honorary Swiftie who knows most, if not all, the songs. Just try me. I dare you to quiz me."

She holds her hand up and giggles. "I think I believe you. I'm just… I need a minute to process this new information."

"Take your sweet time, baby. I'll wait." I wink.

She starts to smile, but it quickly transforms into horror. Her hand flies to her mouth, and she bolts for the locker room again.

"Shit," I mutter.

The stomach bug has been going around. Could that be what she has? If that's the case, I should be worried too, considering how close she and I got last night—three times.

After the hot tub, we continued the party in the shower, and I could've died a happy man in there, complete with the suds of my men's Dove bodywash.

I touch the back of my hand to my cheek to confirm I don't have a fever. Truthfully, I couldn't be in better shape right now. No fever, nausea, or headache. I feel great, but it doesn't mean I'm in the clear.

She could also have food poisoning.

As soon as she exits the locker room, her eyes redder than before and makeup smudged, I'm waiting for her right outside the door and ask, "What have you eaten in the last day or so? Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Nothing I can think of. You think this is food related?"

"Could be, but the stomach bug could also be at play." I don't miss the relief in her exhale. "Do you think it's something else?"

"Sable said something this morning that I thought I might be freaking out about, but, um, never mind."

What could Sable have said to set her off?

Addie groans into her palms.

"I'll take you home," I offer.

"My classes." She lifts a limp hand, doing her best to gesture over her makeshift classroom on the bleachers. "The students. I… What…"

I guide her to sit. "You can barely stand or form complete sentences. You need to get some rest at home, with a bucket next to you at all times."

"I actually didn't make it to the bathroom that time." She winces. "I had to throw up in the sink."

"That settles it. I'm calling Sable and taking you home."

"What about your classes? They'll… Who…" She clutches the side of her head in her hand and squeezes her eyes closed.

Addie's in no condition to drive or be left alone for long, but she's right about my classes. It'll be a lot simpler to fill in for one teacher at the last minute, but two might be a lot to ask.

"I'll figure something out," I reassure her. "Right now, we need to get you home."

I gather Addie's textbook, notes, and pens into her tote, then throw her coat over my shoulder as I call Sable and inform her of the situation.

"I'll be right over," she says.

The next call I make is to my mother. I didn't have all the details ironed out before I called, but with four kids and a grandbaby, she's no stranger to all kinds of ailments. She jumps into caretaking mode and gives me all the answers I was hoping for.

More than that, I'm relieved she's able to help. I almost didn't call, given how busy I know she is with her part-time job at Dad's pharmacy, plus Whitney and Huck.

Sable arrives with a brown paper bag in one hand and half a sandwich in the other. She stops to check on Addie, who takes one whiff of her food and gags.

As she rushes to the locker room again, Sable turns to me with a frown. "Not the best day to bring a tuna salad sandwich with me."

"It's not you. It's whatever virus or food poisoning she has."

"You'll make sure she gets home safely, right?" she asks, concern etched in the crease between her brows.

"I'm on it." I muster my best smile. "I'll be back before my next class, but if for some reason I'm not?—"

"I'll handle it," she reassures me.

I thank her, fling the tote bag over my shoulder, and grab my keys from the Health room, after which I meet Addie back in the gym, her arms wrapped around her stomach.

My chest hurts to see her in pain like this.

With my best mask of confidence I can force, I guide her outside, where I place a kiss to her temple. "Let's get you home."

"I haven't had time to clean up since my mom left the other night," Addie croaks. "I'll get to it."

"There will be plenty of time for that later." I put her water bottle in her hand and urge her to sip as I say, "Right now, your only jobs are staying hydrated and resting."

She winces as she swallows, and it's obvious the water doesn't go down easily.

The only time I've been to Addie's house was the night I secretly dropped off dinner for her two weeks ago, but I didn't come inside.

I'm not sure what I expected, to be honest. Matching curtains and throw pillows, or perhaps labels for glasses, coffee mugs, and plates stuck to her cabinets. Part of me imagined Taylor Swift posters and Shark Tank merch, but I'm not ruling them out just yet; they're probably hidden away in glass cases.

In any case, I didn't expect the mess.

It's absolute chaos in here, and guilt eats at me as I guide her to the only empty seat on her couch. How can I leave her here and go back to work for the afternoon? I need to help her. To at least clear the laundry and snack wrappers off her couch.

"Where might a bucket or a bowl be?" I ask her.

"I'll get it." She starts to sit up, but I place both hands on her shoulders and nudge her to stay where she is.

"Just point me in the right direction, please."

"To the left of the kitchen sink, there should be a few mixing bowls."

As her head falls to the back of the couch, I launch my search of the mixing bowl. The kitchen sink is halfway full, and the counter is littered with used forks and napkins. The refrigerator is bare and nothing like the one at my mom's, which is covered in baby pictures of Huck, plus wedding and baby shower invitations.

Addie's cabinets are not labeled, but the pantry is. Once I located the biggest bowl of the four immediately available, I check the Cs in her pantry and find an open box of crackers.

Supplies in hand, I return to her side. "Eat a few of these, and use the bowl as needed. I'll be back to check on you later."

"You're leaving?" Her eyelids flutter open, and her scared gaze shoots me right in the chest.

"I have to get back to my classes, but I won't be leaving you alone. I promise."

This seems to put her at ease as she sinks back into the cushions.

I pull my phone from my pocket and find a text from my mom. The one above it was one I sent with Addie's address.

MOM

I'll be there in fifteen minutes.

This gives me all the relief I need. If I can't be the one to look after her, I'm glad it can be my mom. She's the best person I know, and Addie will be in good hands with her until the final bell rings.

"How about we get you into comfier clothes? Maybe even lie down in bed?" I ask.

She barely lifts her head, but I think the sound she makes is a yes.

I dip low enough to wrap my arm under hers and hoist her onto her feet, leaning most of her weight onto me. We make it out of the living room before I realize I don't know where I'm going.

As if she reads my mind, she points to the end of the hall. "That one."

Her bedroom is sparsely decorated in florals and a few picture frames of her, Maren, and Caroline. There are a couple with her parents from when she was younger, and there's a more recent one of her with sea turtles at the beach. It must be from the trip to Pensacola to visit her father that she mentioned last night.

Everything in this room is tidy and in its place. Did she chain this room off during her mother's stay? How else did she manage to keep everyone else from destroying it like they did the rest of the house?

Addie rests on my shoulder as I peel back her comforter and help her slide inside. With a sigh, she says, "You're pretty good at taking care of me."

"This is nothing," I whisper, but I can't be certain that she hears me.

She drifts off to sleep with a soft snore, and it gives me another moment of relief. She'll be asleep when my mom gets here, but when Addie wakes up, she'll be happy to know she's not alone.

I stay with her for a few moments until my phone buzzes.

MOM

I'm here.

I kiss Addie's temple, my nose tangling in her wavy strands, and then I tear myself away to let my mother in.

"I didn't want to ring the doorbell in case she'd fallen asleep," she says and kisses my cheek in greeting.

"How did you know?" I ask as I grab some of the grocery bags from her hands.

"Like I said on the phone, this is not my first time. I've seen it all, including sleepwalking and attempting to learn French from the exhaustion and delirium of throwing up. Virus or food poisoning—either way, she's got to be drained."

"Should I take her to the doctor?" I ask.

"Her symptoms are consistent with one of the two, and a doctor is only going to tell her to rest, drink water, and eat soup and crackers." Mom points to the bags. "I brought everything I need to make soup, and there's a box of saltines in there too. There's also a small case of water out in my car, if you could please bring it in and set it next to her bed. That way, she won't have to keep refilling a glass."

"You are a saint. Thank you so much for this." I give her another hug, then jog out to her car for the water.

By the time I return to the kitchen, she's already set a pot on the stove, and she's measuring out rice for the chicken and rice soup she always used to make us when we were sick.

Addie is definitely in good hands, and some of my earlier guilt dissipates.

"I'll come back in a few hours to clean up in here, so don't worry about any of that," I say. "Just keep an eye on her, please."

"I've got it from here, son." She gives me a warm smile as she rounds the counter to give me another kiss on the cheek. "We still need to have our chat too."

"Right after you tell me who tried to learn French," I tease.

She winks, and I thank her again as I back away toward the front door.

Outside, I race down the porch steps but stop. Scarlett freezes practically mid-jog and stares, her mouth wide enough to fit half a cheeseburger. I almost don't recognize her with her hair piled underneath a ballcap and not a stitch of makeup on. She usually works the Tap like she's ready for her closeup on camera.

She yanks her earbuds out. "What are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same."

Scarlett points a long finger to the house next door. "That's where I live. Your turn." Her eyes widen. "Wait. Are you here to finally off Addie?"

"What? No. We're not…" I clear my throat. We're pretending. Addie and I are still pretending, and that includes lying to Scarlett, or at least treading the fine line of the truth with vague answers. "We don't even hate each other that much."

She twists her lips. "Over the summer, you tried proving she's European and living in this country illegally just so you could get her deported."

"She'd somehow convinced Kenny to replace Sunday specials from the good beers to some bullshit light IPA." I scoff and meet her on the sidewalk.

"Seems like an appropriate response to such a travesty," she deadpans.

"Addie's done and said a lot worse," I say with a snort.

"Oh, for sure. The latest being how badly she wants to chop off your microscopic balls and feed them to you like M&Ms."

I lift a brow. "What did I do to earn such cruelty?"

Scarlett shrugs. "Just a typical Tuesday afternoon, which is why I'm still not convinced you're not here to bury her body and clean up after yourself." She points to the minivan in Addie's driveway. "Why else would you bring such a hideous monstrosity? It must be filled with bleach and body bags."

"That's my mom's."

"You called your mom for murder cleanup?"

"You listen to too many true crime podcasts," I shoot back. "Shouldn't you be at the Tap? It's happy hour."

"Exactly." She rolls her eyes. "I needed to get away from David's impatience and Lisa's whining over her less than stellar cocktail that ‘tastes like a toddler mixed it,'" she grumbles, tossing up air quotes. Guess it's a common complaint from the Tap's resident high-maintenance cougar. "Plus, Kenny's had a stick up his ass for two weeks now, and I can only take so much. I asked off and didn't really wait for an answer."

"Smooth."

"Gotta go after what you want, Conrad," she says with a shrug as she walks backward toward her house.

"You most certainly do," I mutter under my breath as I take another look at Addie's house, fantasizing about last night—the whole last week, really.

And I want more of that.