Life Lines

5: It's Just A Cough

Chapter Five

I didn't go back to sleep, just took a shower and drank some Chamomile tea. I restarted My Girl and Schylar called me fifteen minutes in.

"Hey," I said. "What's up?"

He groaned, one of those fat cat groans. "Girl, you don't know what you're missing."

"If you're referring to sex with Brittany I'm sure I do. Her exploits have painted the walls of the bathroom stalls since we were in middle school."

He busted out laughing, moving the phone away. "And you know what? They were all right too."

"Doesn't that worry you? She could be diseased and stuff."

"There's a reason why they have STD tests, Nat."

I heard a car door slam and I wrinkled my nose. "Please tell me you at least waited to call me until you left her house."

He chuckled. "I left her house. I dialed you as I was walking down the front steps."

"That's so ungentlemanly of you. Jesus H. Christ, Schylar."

"Whoa there, cranky pants. I take it you're not feeling any better."

"No," I whined. "And I got a call from the clinic. It's not strep or the flu. They said it was probably a 24 hr bug."

He snorted. "They go through all that schooling and training just to tell you you might have a 24hr bug? Complete crap, Natalie."

"That's what they said. Dad should be home with some soup from B's if you want to join."

"Sounds like a plan. I can actually sit on your couch now that we know you're not contagious. You really should talk your dad into swapping out that chair. It's extremely uncomfortable."

"I think that thing's been in the family for years. He's not getting rid of it."

"Then I'll send him my chiropractor bill. I'll be there in a few. Love you."

"Love you too, slut."

"Now that's not nice."

I hung up laughing and the front door opened. I heard the familiar sound of paper crinkling and the smile stayed on my face. My father put his stuff down but walked into the room, loosening his tie.

"Have a good day?" I asked.

He bent and kissed me on the forehead before settling next to me. He handed me my bag and rested his head against the back of the couch, his eyes closing. He was tired, exhausted actually. The lines on his face were more promenade adding to the wrinkles I swore weren't there this morning.

"No. This building project is giving me migraines."

"Why don't you just have it declared a historical site?"

"Building's not old enough and doesn't have any significance." He opened an eye and looked at me. "How about you?"

"I feel like crap and yet, nothing's wrong with me."

"It's probably just a bug." He tugged on one of my braids. "They told me to start you on a rotation of Tylenol and Advil. There's plenty of bottled water in the fridge. I want you to sleep with your door open at night in case you need me."

"Dad," I tilted my head to the side, "I'm not a little girl anymore. If I need you, I can actually walk to your room."

"I know but I want to be able to hear you in case you can't make it to my room."