“I hate tea” Jason called out from the couch. “You’re wasting your time making it, Kevin because I’m not drinking it.”
I sighed while pouring hot water into a Garfield mug. “For a sick person, you sure are loud babe. Keep it up and I’ll spike it with NyQuil.”
“Spike it with gin then I’ll drink it.”
Going to the pantry I retrieved a tin of butter cookies and a bottle of honey. “I promise, this is the only time you have to drink it. I just want to see if it works.”
A coughing fit delayed any response my boyfriend may have had which was good for him because after 3 days playing doctor my patience was burned down to a sliver. Stirring two teaspoons of honey into the cup I took it and the cookies to where Jason lay, surrounded by a sea of discarded tissues.
He glared at me as I held out the mug to him. “I’m not drinking that, Kevin so forget it.”
“It’s special tea. It’s supposed to help clear your nose and calm your cough.”
“I don’t care if it gives me wings. Tea tastes like hot grass water.”
“I put honey in it and you can dunk the cookies.”
A loud raspberry was his response to that.
Keeping a stranglehold on my temper I set the mug and tin on the table. “Fine, don’t drink it. I’m just trying to help, babe. Are you sure you don’t want me to schedule an appointment with Dr. Patel? Maybe he can prescribe something that’ll work better than over-the-counter stuff.”
“I told you, I’m feeling better each day. Why waste money on a doctor visit or a prescription when I’m doing fine?”
Shaking my head I went back to the kitchen and grabbed the trashcan. “Just remember how good I’m treating you when it’s my turn on the sickbed and you have to play nursemaid to me. I want the same patience and attention.”
“You expecting to get sick?”
I gestured to the balled-up white tissues on the ground. “With germ city growing in the living room how can I not?”
Jason reached over and grabbed the cookie tin. “Wait 2 more days before getting sick. I should feel back to normal and then you can sleep out here on the lumpy sofa and breath out of one nostril.”
“The lumpy sofa is your fault,” I said, gathering up the tissues in the pail. “I wanted to get a futon last Black Friday but you wanted to spend the money on electronics.”
“Because we both love games and it was a great sale. It made more sense to buy a new console and a bunch of games that we both can enjoy than a new sofa when this one is still in one piece.”
“Are you saying we can get a futon if this couch becomes ripped?”
That made him smile, the first real smile I have seen since he caught sick. “If I say yes I have a feeling this couch is going to get stabbed to death the second I’m off it.”
“Maybe,” I picked up Garfield, “I’ll make you some chicken soup. Do you feel like taking a shower? Might help clean out your head and nose.”
“You going to gut the couch if I do?”
“If I did then you’d have to come back to bed and I can’t handle your snoring so no.”
“I don’t snore.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “How would you know. The minute your head hits the pillow its lights out and you turn into a chainsaw.”
Jason flung off his blanket and stood up. “Sorry. I’ll be sure to come to bed gagged from now on.”
“Thanks for that image,” I said, going to the kitchen. “I’ll start shopping for one now.”
“You’ve got 2 days. Remember, I like leather.”
That did it. Three days of sexual frustration boiled over and I broke.“You know what, I think you might be too sick to shower by yourself,” I deposited Garfield in the sink and rinsed off my hands. “I think I better shower with you to make sure you don’t pass out or anything.”
Jason grinned as I followed him to the bathroom. “In that case, I’ll make sure to drop the soap.”
Against my better judgment, I let Jason sleep in the bed. Call me weak but I missed having a warm body next to me. A pillow can only do so much. I don’t know what I expected because he was still sick but I hoped for something more than a small kiss and a quick hand-job. To top it off he started snoring like a freight train. I was tempted to record him with my phone and text it to him but I didn’t have my phone handy and didn’t feel like hunting for it. I tried to stick it out because I really didn’t want to sleep on the couch but it soon became too much and I left with my pillow.
“I’m going to catch something for sure now,” I muttered, flipping the couch cushions.
Unfortunately, we only had one throw blanket so unless I wanted to use bath towels as blankets I had to suck it up and use it. Germs and catching sick became the least of my problems as I stretched out on the sofa. Have you ever slept on a potato bag? Not fun, let me tell you. All three couch cushions felt like there were a dozen large potatoes in each one. The floor would have been more comfortable and I would have slept there too if it wasn’t a bigger petri dish than the sofa and smelled like 50 shades of feet. Jason can have the bed, I’d sleep in the car or in the bathtub before I’d sleep, here again, sick or not sick. After what felt like hours I started to drift off to sleep, lulled by thoughts of how I was going to destroy this couch the minute I had the chance.