Sunshine

The room stank of illness. Even with the window open to a cool autumn night, the scent of it lingered, almost as though it had soaked into every piece of furniture.

I leaned in the doorway, looking down at where she lay, eyes closed, chest rising and falling steadily. It was good that she was asleep, though I have to wonder if her sleep was peaceful. Despite the calm serenity on her face, a film of sweat gleamed on her brow and the blanket occasionally shifted with small movements of her arms.

Walking softly, I moved to her bedside and laid the backs of my fingers against her brow. Warm, damp, definitely nowhere near healed. And alone.

On the bedside table, a small bowl of water sat with a cloth. Old tradition that, laying a cool cloth on an invilid‘s forehead as they slept. Maybe her mother had been round, certainly I didn’t know of anyone else who had visited since she got sick.

But the water had gone room temperature. Not much good for the fever, so I took it back to the kitchen and ran the tap. Of course, I was hardly an expert in handling sick people. My own illnesses when they cropped up had a bad habit of leaving me all but incoherent. A man cold, my mother used to say.

Waiting for the water to run cold, I tried to recal an article I could just barely remember that said man-colds were a real thing. Though somehow I almost convinced myself that I had dreamt that. Didn’t really make sense, for one sex to be hit harder than the other. Maybe I only remembered it because it helped with my ego.

I pulled her office chair around and sat next to her after carrying the refreshed water into her room. Soaking then wringing out the cloth, I wiped at the sweat on her face as gently as I could, then repeated the ritual again before placing the damp cloth on her forehead.

Could this be one of those things I wasn’t supposed to do? The rules always seemed just out of reach. But it did strike me, as I placed the cloth, that this was exactly the kind of thing that friends weren’t supposed to do. So, I stood, whispered, “get well soon,” and turned to go. Wouldn’t do to be caught, especially if I was right and what I was doing actually veered into creepy territory.

Honestly, I should pay more attention to other people’s opinions. Moreover, their level of comfort. Of course it was creepy! What kind of weirdo just let themselves into their friend’s apartment and took care of them when they were sick? An invite would be one thing, but this? Madness. Hopefully no one had seen me, then I could pretend this never happened.

”Going without saying goodbye?”

The voice was so small, rasping, I almost didn’t hear it. Could have just kept walking, she would have thought it was a dream. Probably never even mentioned it. My status as a concerned friend might have stayed intact, but I turned and looked back at her.

I could barely make out her eyes, open now, looking straight at me.

“You look dreadful,” I try to put levity into the words, knowing that laughter is a good medicine.

"Not really what you’re supposed to say,” the laugh came, but weakly. “Supposed to say I look radiant not,” the words were cut off by a shallow cough.

”You should be resting.”

“Lying down aren’t I?“

I only smiled, certain she could see it in the light that shone through the window.

“Thank you,” the words were softer, her eyes starting to drift shut. “Thanks for coming to take care of me.”

”Glad you think it’s a kindness,” I almost laughed on the words, she could probably hear it in my voice even if she couldn’t see my face. “Was worried you’d think it… weird.”

“Gave you the key for a reason. Will you sing to me?”

"Huh?”

"Sing to me, Raska, please? It’ll help.”

I walked back and sat down beside her again. Taking the cloth from her face, it was already nearly warm, I soaked it in the water and wiped away a fresh sheen of sweat.

For a long moment, I sat in silence, slowly soaking and wringing out the cloth. Repeating the motions of trying to wipe the sickness away. She was going to be fine; it wasn’t anything truly awful, but still it broke my heart to see my friend just lying there like that.

She was always so strong, so capable. Seeing her laid up, weak and barely able to move, was hard. But I suppose I could never say no.

“You are my sunshine,” I sang softly, letting myself get lost in the repeated motions of care, allowing my voice to follow the natural rhythm of the song. “My only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

"Always loved that song,” her words were barely a whisper.

I took her hand in mine and kept singing. “The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamt I held you in my arms. When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken.” Her grip on my hand softened she was asleep again. “So, I hung my head, and I cried.”

-0-

Two weeks later, I waited for everyone to arrive at a bar she liked. It was her grand reappearance, after so long stuck in bed, she wanted to do something fun.

A hand landed on my shoulder. “She told me you helped take care of her, thanks for that. Only sorry I was out of town.”

I didn’t turn to look at the man who spoke. He was there for her, not me or any of the rest of us. Really, I couldn’t be mad at him. Casimir had no more way of knowing that the ‘cold’ would hit her like a cement truck than did the rest of us. But for some reason, it stuck in my teeth. I just wanted my friend taken care of I suppose.

"Can’t say I like you having a key to her apartment, though,” he continued. “Think maybe you should give that back.”

"Think maybe it’s none of your business.”

"Don’t be like that, man. C’mon, you know I’m only looking out for her. Not safe to have a bunch of extra keys floating around.“

One extra key. Or, least, one out of three extras and the only one not held by someone she was related to or dating. Maybe it was petty, maybe I just didn’t like him, but it felt wrong for him to ask that I give it up. I mean, I had done the right thing, far as she was concerned. No reason for him to be worried.

But I can’t say I didn’t empathize. Not sure I would be fully comfortable if my girlfriend gave one of her guy friends a spare key. Might even feel threatened if that guy friend let himself in to take care of her when she was ill - even if she was completely ok with it. But not talking to her directly?

Then again, maybe he had. Maybe she had told him to leave off and let sleeping dogs lie. But if that were the case, then his asking me was completely uncalled for.

“Raska! Casimir!” Alora's joyful voice carried across the slowly filling bar easily. She could always make herself be heard. “You beat us here! What’re you talking about?”

"Oh nothing,” he said, quickly taking his hand off my shoulder and hurrying over to sweep her up in a bear hug. “Just chatting really. How are you?” Which answered to her having asked him to talk to me about the key. It was all his own initiative.

"A lot better,” she beamed at him, then broke the hug and came over to me. Leaning down, she wrapped her arms around me and briefly pressed her lips against my cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me, hope I didn’t say anything embarrassing.”

"You don’t remember?” My laugh was genuine, I was thrilled to see my friend well again.

"Just that you were there. I got the soup you left in my fridge, by the way, very thoughtful.”

"Must have been your mother, wasn’t me.”

"Funny, she said the same thing. Going to find out which of you is lying to me and make the best curry you’ve ever tasted to say thanks.”

Her mother had always liked me, so I suppose I could take the credit if that’s what she had said. But it felt wrong. I let the subject drop and tried to join in the celebration when everyone else arrived.

After the party, which ended early seeing as it was a Wednesday, I accepted her offered hug.

"You really make me feel important,” she was smiling, all but glowing. The picture of health. “Really, thank you for coming over. And for the soup.” Then she ran over to where Casimir stood waiting, I couldn’t miss the glare he threw over her head at me.

But as they left, needing to walk past me to get to the parking lot, I heard her humming along to the tune of the song I had sung for her.

Something was warring with my joy at seeing her well again as I watched them walk away. Of course I was happy, how could I be anything else? My friend was up and ready to take on the world, just the way she always was. But for some reason, seeing her there on his arm tore at my heart.

Not that I had any reason to think he was bad for her, or even that he didn’t deserve her. I barely knew the guy. Maybe I just wanted my friend... Well, if I can’t be honest with myself, then who? Hopefully if I just pushed myself to move on, then I wouldn’t want my friend anymore. Just a friend. The only thing we could ever be.

I turned and walked over to the bike rack, singing softly under my breath, “when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken. So I hung my head and I cried…”