Just Us Box Set

And This Is Ed-12

At the end of July, I caught the flu. I rarely ever got sick, but this bug laid me out flat for about a week. Liz held down the fort while I huddled on the couch at home, watching daytime TV. Insert gun barrel into mouth. Pull trigger.

My head was foggy most of the time anyway, and there was only so much of Judge Judy I could take. Voldemort was fed no matter how shitty I felt, because I couldn’t handle any evil spells containing flying fur balls right then. He kept to his comfy cat bed in a corner of the living room, mostly, except for the one time he decided that sleeping on top of my head was preferable. Until my coughing fits and sneezes scared him away.

There were used tissues all over the floor, and I was sick of soup, but that was the only thing I had the energy for right then. And Liz had made a whole pot for me so all I had to do was heat up a little bit each day. She’d also left a box full of bottled water next to the couch.

Maybe I should shower soon, but I didn’t feel like it. My cell phone rang in the middle of an afternoon snooze. I fumbled underneath the snotty tissues to find it. “Hello?” I barely even recognized my own voice, it was so raspy.

“Can I come over?” Even with my fuzzy brain, I recognized the voice on the other end of the line.

I tried to clear the frog out of my throat. “Why, Titus?”

“Do you need anything? I wanted to check on you.”

“Because you think a pathetic do-gooder like me wouldn’t have friends to take care of him? Whatever game you’re playing, I’m not interested. Buzz off,” I yelled, then hacked up half a lung as I ended the call. That could have gone better.

What a skunk!

After I drank some water, I settled back onto the couch and slept for a few more hours. When I awoke, it was after six and the news was on. Yeah! I’d survived another day of Court TV. I slowly stood and shuffled my way into the kitchen to make soup. Before I could open the refrigerator, I heard a knock on the door.

Liz had said she’d stop by to clean up a bit and check my stock of food and water. Was that today or tomorrow? I couldn’t remember. I shuffled back into the living room toward the front door. I opened it, then shut it again on seeing Titus standing there, a huge gift basket in hand.

Fuckety f**k! Why couldn’t he just get a clue?

He knocked on the door again. “Come on, Ed. I brought you something. I know I messed up and you have every right to be angry with me, but I’m trying to be a…good friend.” Why had he hesitated over those words?

“Leave it on the floor and go away. Better yet, take it with you.” My lungs chose that moment to having a coughing fit.

“You sound awful. Can I at least make you something to eat, or, I don’t know, wash your dishes? Please? I want to help. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Just one work colleague doing a solid for another.” He started banging on the door now. “Stop being so stubborn!”

Since I didn’t want my neighbors to get involved, I reluctantly let him in. He walked by me and I shut the door. “Set the basket on the table, please. Then you can go.”

I moved slowly around him and went back to the kitchen to get the pot out of the fridge and scoop some soup into the saucepan I’d been using for the past few days. When was the last time I’d washed it?

I spilled some of the pot’s contents on the stove, and Titus took over. “Here, let me do that.”

I backed away from him, not wanting to be so close. In my weakened condition, I’d likely do something stupid, and though I didn’t have the strength for anything vigorous, my libido seemed to be willing to overlook the other stuff between us.

It wasn’t fair that he looked good in any lighting, and I didn’t want to feel this tug in my concrete-barricaded heart to forgive him. I watched as he heated the soup and put the big pot back in the cold box.

“Have you eaten anything besides soup since you’ve been out?” he asked while washing the bowl and spoon I’d been using.

I gave in and let the refrigerator hold me up. “It’s all I can stomach at the moment, and I don’t have the energy to make anything else.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“Yes.”

He placed the bowl and spoon on the counter and said nothing further until the soup was cooked. “This the tray you were using?” He picked it up from the counter.

I nodded and he put everything on it, led the way back to the couch, and set it on the table there. “Why don’t you sit and eat? I’ll clean up here.” Under other circumstances, I would think this was kind of…sweet, actually.

I did as he asked, my legs suddenly too shaky to do anything else. “You don’t have to do this, and I don’t want you to catch anything.”

He smiled for the first time that evening and I tried and failed to let it affect me in any way. “I brought gloves.”

I left him to do what he wanted and slurped my soup as I listened to the news reporter talk about a shooting two miles away on Madeira Avenue. What was wrong with people?

It took Titus all of five minutes to tidy up, then he moved the blankets to one side—the pillows were behind me—and sat at the other end of the couch. “Good?” he indicated the now-empty bowl.

“I suppose so. I can’t really taste anything right now.” I set down the bowl. “Look, thanks for stopping by. And,” I added grudgingly, “I appreciate the basket. I’m really tired though, and I need to lie down again.” In fact, I started to stretch out right then, my body urging me to get more rest.

Titus stood, actually tucked the blankets around me, and gently brushed hair from my forehead. “Sleep well, Ed, and I hope you’re back on your feet soon. Text me if you need anything, all right?” And then he was gone.

I dreamed of his fingers on my skin.