Page 22 of Johnathan
“I can call your mom, or your brother for you,” John offered, only to be met with a groan.
“Please don’t. They already worry too much.”
“Alright. Looks like I’m bringing you home.” John shook Noah and Erica’s hands. “Thanks for making sure she was okay.”
“Just make sure there is someone to watch over her tonight.”
“I’ll be fine,” Abby said as she tried to push up off the ground.
“Whoa. No,” John got his hand under her elbow and steadied her. “I’m going to carry you over to my truck, okay?”
“No,” she sighed. “That’s nice of you, but the motion won’t be good. Can you just walk with me?”
He watched her for a moment, cataloging the waxy look of her pale skin and the way her eyes were still pinched closed. “Of course.”
“My car…”
“I’ll make sure someone comes and brings it to your place.”
The apartment above Emma’s bakery was small, but stepping inside, John could immediately see how Abby had made it her own space. The walls may have been white, but Abby infused color into everything. There was a bright emerald green blanket draped across a cream couch that faced a wall full of vibrant art prints. As he walked towards her kitchen, he smiled at the wild bright blue and pink runner that lay across her small dining table.
“Your home is so…vibrant.”
“Thanks,” she smiled, wincing slightly. “I like colors.”
Speaking of color, her face was still drained of it. Shit. He needed to get her to her bed, but he realized maybe she would be more comfortable doing it on her own.
“Can you make it to your room?”
“Yes. Thank you. I’m so sorry I’ve messed up your afternoon. Please tell Katy I’m fine and I’ll see her at school tomorrow.”
“You didn’t mess up a thing. Go get settled in bed and I’ll bring you a glass of water and more medicine before I go.”
She didn’t argue, and he watched her disappear down the short hallway. Rummaging through her cabinets, John found a glass and filled it with cold water. He grabbed her medicine and started down the hallway to her room when a sound caught his attention. The door to what must be her bathroom was closed, but he could clearly hear her getting sick.
Not wasting a single second, John knocked on the door and turned the handle. It wasn’t locked, and he didn’t wait for her to let him in.
Abby had her eyes closed, a pained expression on her face as she sat back against her bathtub. His eyes landed on a washclothand he grabbed it, running the cloth under some water in the sink before approaching her.
“I thought you said you were feeling better?” He laid the cold washcloth on the back of her neck. “Maybe we should get you to the hospital.”
“No,” she gasped, before another bout of retching had her flying towards the toilet.
“Abby, I’m worried.” He placed his hand on her back and traced slow circles, waiting for her vomiting to pass.
“I just need to rest,” she said, grabbing some toilet paper to wipe her mouth. “You can go. I’m really fine.”
“Is your stomach feeling better? Do you think you can make it to bed?”
“Yes, um, you can go. I’ll get into bed in a minute.” She still had her eyes shut, her head falling into her hands, and a pained moan escaping her lips.
“Abby. How are you going to get into bed if you can’t even open your eyes?”
“I… I normally crawl.”
His fists clenched.
“No. I’m not leaving you to crawl back to your bed. I’ll carry you.”