I was ecstatic after leaving the bookstore. Seth had actually come to see
me
. Not to mention all of the naughtiness that had ensued right after him showing up. Anna's mood had increased as well, despite not hearing from Nicholas. All in all, it was beginning to look like a beautiful evening.
I perked up even more when I felt a vibration in my jeans pocket while we were at dinner. I slipped my phone from my pocket and looked at the number, it was Seth's. Anna rolled her eyes and absently looked at the front of her phone, willing a phone call, as I answered. "Hello?" I tried to sound smoldering but instead sounded a little too manly.
Surprisingly, Seth didn't laugh, "Hi."
I waited for him to initiate conversation. After all,
he
had called
me.
"It's Seth."
Duh. I stifled a laugh as he had but couldn't help the smile, hearing him say his own name. "Hi."
"How are you doing?"
"Good. You?" Enough inane chit-chatter.
"Not too good." He paused. It was true; I could hear him holding his breath on the other line.
"What's the matter? Are you sick?"
"Yeah." Anna looked at me puzzled across the dinner table and I motioned that I would need a minute. I stood from the booth and began my walk out into the chilly Portland night. Outside I had much more privacy and I could hear better.
"What's wrong?"
"I think it's just a stomach thing." He paused again. When I opened my mouth to speak I heard him make a pained sound.
"Do you need some help?" Another sharp intake of breath made me concerned. It was ridiculous, I barely knew this guy and already I was playing panicky girlfriend. I closed my eyes and shook my head at my typical girlie response.
"No, I-" Another sharp intake of breath, "hold on."
I heard the phone drop and a deep retching noise in the background. My heart skipped a beat. He really was sick. More coughing emitted from the phone and suddenly I wanted to run to his aid even more. I heard a sink run some water and another fit of gagging then spitting.
"Sorry." He returned to the phone breathless.
"You really sound bad." I hoped that didn't come across wrong. "Are you gonna be okay?"
"I'll be fine." He lied.
I sighed very audibly so he would know I was displeased.
"Listen." His voice was, interestingly enough, smooth, despite the retching. "I wanted to call you just so you didn't think I forgot about you again. Or miss me-" I finally heard a smile to his sweet Irish voice.
I grimaced, "I wasn't going to say I missed you."
"Sure, sure." His smile was still prominent in his voice.
"You didn't have to call me." I lied. Whether he was sick or not, I was very happy to hear his voice.
"Yeah I did. I never would've heard the end of it." He actually chuckled a bit. "Hold on." More retching and gagging came from the other line and I could only imagine Seth, disheveled as always, leaning over a toilet puking his guts out. I hadn't heard the toilet flush yet which must have meant he was going at this for a while. Or nothing was coming out.
I sighed. I was so glad he had called. Despite my euphoric high from earlier, I was beginning to feel the pit of loneliness creeping up on me. Just knowing he was still there and thinking of me comforted me, even though it must've been hard for him to call. Then it hit me; maybe he wanted that same comfort. Thousands of miles away from home, a natural reaction when being sick is to want to be babied by your mommy, and he was too far from her. He could've called anyone on the cast, though, and perhaps had already. I strained my ears to see if I could hear someone else, but heard only more of his coughs.
"Sorry bout that." He was panting this time. I heard him sipping something on the other end.
"Do you want me to come over?" I held my breath for his answer. If he turned me down it would be because he wanted to be alone. Not because of me. Or maybe he didn't want me to see where he lived.
"I don't think you want to do that." He placed the answer back onto me. It wasn't going to work.
"I could bring some soup? America's remedy is chicken soup."
He chuckled lightly again, "Ireland's too." He took a deep breath, obviously contemplating the choices. "I love soup."
I smiled at his response. So matter-of-fact, and slightly misplaced. Was that an answer then? "Is that a yes?"
"Sure. But if you want to leave, I'll under-" I heard him gag then end it with another hearty cough, "got a pen? I'll give you directions?"
I nodded, even knowing he couldn't tell I was and began my ascent back into the restaurant to order some chicken noodle soup.
The drive to his apartment was quicker than I had imagined. I felt bad telling Anna I would be leaving her, and she would be forced to spend a solitary night in the hotel room. She smiled sweetly and urged me to go when I said I'd stay, with no intentions of doing so. "He's sick. He needs you. And you'd be stupid not to go."
I left her clacking away on her laptop, an episode of
Spongebob Squarepants
playing in the background. She waved goodbye to me as I rounded the corner and slowly shut the door.
Seth lived only five minutes off of the expressway; approximately fifteen minutes from the hotel. I thought the drive would seem tortuous, but instead it flew by as I pictured my handsome Irishman scraggly, sickly, and unbeautiful. If he could look bad, then maybe there was hope that someone like me could actually have someone like him for more than just a quick fuck.