“You’d better get home to Daniel.”
There was no emotion in his words, just dismissal and finality. She retreated to the bedroom and pulled on her clothes, braided her hair, and went back to the kitchen, where Dave was sitting at the table, staring into his cup of cold cocoa.
Wordlessly she put on her boots and her jacket and picked up her handbag. She went out and shut the door behind her, latching it with a quiet click, wondering how she could have been so stupid as to let herself fall in love with the wrong man.
Chapter Twelve
Charlie ended up putting in extra hours at the clinic. A flu outbreak swept through the schools, and she and Josh doubled up their hours so that whenever one was taking appointments, the other was working walk-in or administering flu shots. The lead up to Christmas was anything but relaxing, and it was only Meggie’s help with babysitting that kept her afloat. She managed to package Lizzie’s presents and ship them off, with a promise to visit for a weekend in the new year. As the virus spread, Josh and Charlie saw increased numbers of senior citizens presenting with the same symptoms that often progressed to bronchitis or pneumonia, both of which required more than simple rest and fluids.
By December 18, it hit Charlie and laid her flat for three days of fever, chills, and a hoarse cough. She spent her downtime on the sofa with a soft blanket, drinking hot lemon and honey and sleeping whenever Daniel saw fit to nap too. Because he was so small, she took particular care with hand washing, praying he didn’t come down with it too. And during her waking hours she spent way too much time thinking. Thinking about Dave, and how everything had gone wrong, and how for the first time in several years she’d fancied herself in love.
How could that be? She’d always believed a big component of being in love was being loved in return. That it wasn’t one-sided. But he certainly hadn’t loved her. Liked her, yes. Enjoyed her company, yes.
But he hadn’t been a fool like her. She replayed moments in her mind: how they’d look into each other’s eyes, the way he kissed, how he’d laugh at something and tilt his head back just a little bit. The way he raised one eyebrow just a little before he said something sarcastic, and the way only one dimple popped when he smiled.
She’d been smitten. No doubt about it. And she missed him. She could tell herself she didn’t, but what purpose did that serve? No sense lying to herself. He was up the road at his cottage or working in town and going about his day completely and absolutely without her. Like she didn’t even matter.
Charlie’s bout of self-pity was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Josh, and he carried a box in his arms.
She tugged her blanket closer around herself, blinked at him blearily, and held open the door. “What on earth is that?”
“Word got around town that you came down with this bug. It’s a care package.”
She stepped aside as he came in and stomped his boots. “A care package?”
He nodded. “Today I’m your delivery boy. Can you take this?”
She took the box from his arms, shocked at how weak she felt. Once he’d removed his boots he took the box back. “Let’s put this in your kitchen.”
She followed behind him, her slippers scuffing against the floor as she sniffled and then reached for a tissue from the box on the counter. Josh put everything down on her table and started taking things out.
An ice cream container, which he handed over. “My mom’s chicken soup. Her not-so-secret ingredient is a dash of curry powder. You look like hell. I recommend a bowl of it, stat.”
She laughed a little, which started her coughing. Without saying a word, Josh found a glass and got her some water. Then he took a bowl from the cupboard, poured some of the soup into it, and shoved it in the microwave.
“Right. Next … Shirley at The Leaf and Grind sent over some tea.” He put the little tin on the table. “She recommends honey to sweeten it. Jess sent eucalyptus candles to help with congestion.” Those went beside the tea. “Mary at the bakery brought in a dozen cinnamon rolls, which annoys the hell out of me because no one ever gives me cinnamon rolls and they’re my favorite.” The rolls were added to the assortment on the tabletop.
Josh handed over a small plastic bottle. “Robin says to take a hot bath with some of this in it and you’ll feel lots better.”