Make that a double

Stella

I open my eyes in the dark and smell fresh lilacs wafting through the air. God, I love lilacs. I try to sit up and see where the smell is coming from, but the ache under my ribs keeps me from moving.

I feel like I’ve done a zillion sit-ups and run a million miles.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead.” Ash’s voice comes from somewhere on my right. I slide my hand out over the cool sheet but find nothing. When I loll my head in the direction of his voice, he switches on a dim lamp, and I see him sitting in a chair next to the bed.

“Why are you over there?”

He smiles and leans forward with his elbows on his knees, “Well, there are two good reasons for that, one being that you’ve been sicker than a dog with a fever. I didn’t want to make it worse with my body heat.”

“And the other?”

He points to the left side of the bed. “The other’s lying over there. He won’t leave your side.”

I roll my head to the left and find Cannon curled up in a ball on his daddy’s side of the bed sleeping like a baby in his pajamas.

I remember now, “He was sick.”

“You were sicker.”

“I was sick?” I ask raising my left hand to point at myself only to find resistance. I look at my hand. It’s bandaged and connected to a tube that’s running up my pillow to a bag hanging from one of the spindles of Ash’s bed. “What’s this?”

“Like I said, you were sicker. My doctor came to see you and gave you some fluids and medicine to help you stop throwing up.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“He said you were dehydrated, you had a fever, and you were throwing up. Do you remember any of that?”

I lay my hand back down and lower my eyes to think. “I kind of remember throwing up, and I remember Cannon being sick, I fell asleep in his bed with him.”

“Yeah, that might not have been the best idea, you caught what he had.”

“I’ve never been sick before, ever, my brother and sister could bring home anything, and I wouldn’t catch it. Even when my mom wanted me to get the chicken pox, she put me in their room with them, but I never got sick.”

“You’re a tough cookie.”

“Apparently not tough enough to fight off the flu.”

“It was a virus. Dr. Hart says it’s particularly nasty and very contagious.”

I close my eyes for a moment and snap them open, “Did you get sick, too?”

“No, not sure why either, I spent two days all up in your faces and I cleaned up his barf.”

“Two days, how long have I been asleep?”

“It’s Saturday, darlin’, you slept with Cannon Thursday night, and you were out of it all day yesterday and most of today.”

I groan, “I’m sorry, what a crappy first week of work.”

“Stop, I don’t care about that. I was worried about both of you, there was no way I was going to work anyway, and it’s the weekend now, so hush.”

The weekend, Saturday, shit, I haven’t called my family to tell them I’m not coming home and I’m supposed to fly out tomorrow.

“I need to call my parents. They still don’t know.”

“About that…”

“About what?”

“Your dad called me Friday morning early, very early, to tell me he needs his daughter back right away, no if, and, or butts about it. He also informed me that I must lift whatever spell I cast over you so that you can leave.”

“My dad called you? Where would he even get your phone number?”

“Wondered that myself. He must be a resourceful guy.”

“Did he say why he needed me home right away?” It’s not like my dad to be a bugaboo, if he calls it’s important. If it weren't important, he would have let my mom call.

“No, and you were in no condition to go so I haven’t called him back.”

“Has he tried to call you again?”

“Yes, last count, about thirty times.”

“Oh my gosh, it has to be something really bad if he’s doing that. Where’s my phone? I have to call home.” I search the dark room for my phone, but I can’t see past Ash’s chair.

He stands and moves to sit on the bed next to me. “You need to stay calm, whatever it is you can’t help until you’re well.”

“No, you don’t understand, my daddy wouldn’t call you unless it were serious, like really serious. Somebody could have died or been injured maybe, I have to call him back now.”

“Alright, I’ll get your phone, but you have to promise to tell him you’ve decided to stay with me.”

“I will, please, Ash, give me my phone.”

“Promise, Stella, say it.”

“I promise, I’ll tell him I’m staying here with you.”

He slides my phone out of his back pocket and hands it to me. It’s powered off. I look up at him confused.

“It wouldn’t stop ringing. I finally shut it off.”

Dread rushes through my veins as I power the phone on and see text message after message from my daddy, my mom, my little brother, even Charlotte who’s in Iowa City at college. I don’t bother reading them and decide to call Charlotte instead.

She picks up on the first ring. “Charlotte? What’s going on?”

“Oh my God, where are you? Dad’s been trying to get ahold of you. He’s going out of his mind.”

“I was sick, am sick, what’s wrong, please don’t tell me anybody’s dead or hurt.”

“Well…” My heart drops into my gut and a lump the size of a golf ball forms in my throat. Oh my God, somebody’s dead.

“Is Mama okay? Jack Jr.?”

“Yes, they’re all fine but, Stella, the ranch is gone.”

I shake my head and close my eyes, “Gone? What do you mean gone?”

“Have you been watching the news?”

“No, I told you I’m sick.”

“An F5 tornado hit Redwood the other night, it took out the entire ranch, there’s nothing left.”

It takes me some time to digest her words, tornado, F5, nothing left. This isn’t real. I must still be hallucinating, our home can’t be gone.

"Stella? We need you to come home and help. It gets worse.”

Worse? How on earth can it get worse than losing everything? “Worse how?” I turn my head to Ash and reach out to take his hand. He shakes his head back and forth and shrugs his shoulders asking what’s going on, but I can’t tell him because I’m still in shock trying to sort it out myself.

“Daddy let the insurance on the ranch lapse. He had to choose between paying the ranch hands or the insurance bill, so he paid them. He was in trouble financially, worse than we knew.”

“Oh no, oh my God, no insurance?”

“No, and they’re homeless, too, the house is gone. Larry and Dan were killed in the storm and Adam’s in the hospital seriously injured.”

“Larry and Dan?” They were ranch hands on my team, we worked together in the prairie almost every day, and now they’re gone, and I’ll never see them again.

“Yeah, honey, I’m sorry, I know you all were friends. So what's wrong with you? You're never sick.”

“It’s some virus, gives you a hell of a fever and vomiting. I’m feeling better, though, I should be able to come home soon.”

Ash’s hand tightens around mine, and deep frown lines crease his forehead.

“How soon is soon?"

"They’re living out of a hotel room that they can’t afford.”

“What time is it?”

“Five o’clock.”

“I’ll come tomorrow, are you there already?”

“Yes, I flew in yesterday, went to see the damage for myself today. It’s devastating, Stella, I can’t believe it’s all gone,” she says doing her best to stifle a cry.

“It’ll be okay, I’ll be home tomorrow, and we will get this all figured out, don’t worry.”

She sniffles and says goodbye before we hang up. I drop the phone on the mattress, and Ash slides in next to me pulling me against him. I slide my hand with the IV over his abdomen as far as it will let me and sling my weak leg over his while snuggling under his arm, where I can feel safe for a little longer.

“What’s going on? Sounds serious.”

“My family’s ranch blew away in a tornado.”

He’s silent while he absorbs the blow. I know how it feels, I’m still sorting through it myself.

“So you’re going home tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yeah, they need me, they’re living in a hotel. My sister says there’s nothing left, no house, no barns, no animals. Two of my friends died, another is injured, and my daddy let the insurance lapse so they can’t even rebuild.”

“Fuck, that’s terrible. I’m sorry, what can I do to help?”

“Can you fly me home tomorrow?”

“Of course, as long as you’re well enough I’ll fly you anywhere you want.”

“Thanks. I don’t even… I don’t know what to do. I can’t help them other than being there for support.”

“That’s a lot. Your family needs to be together during a crisis.”

“What will you do about Cannon?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got this, as long as I know you’re coming back to me eventually. You are coming home to me when it’s over, right?”

“Of course, yes, I told you I would stay.”

“That’s all I need, take your time, let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“I will, thank you. And thank you for taking such good care of me while I was sick.”

“No need to thank me for that, it’s part of the job.”

“What job?”

“The being your boyfriend job.”

“Being my boyfriend is a job?”

“Uh, yeah, I had to hold your hair while you puked.”

“Ew, yeah, that’s work.”

“I’m going to my office and make arrangements to get you home tomorrow. Is it okay if I leave him with you? I’m 90% sure he’s gonna be out for a couple of hours.

“Yeah, sure. Is he feeling better?”

“Yeah, just tired, like you.” He presses a soft kiss on my cheek and slides out of bed.

“Do you want me to put your parents up in a nice hotel?”

He’s such a good man. He’s been taking care of his son and me for two days, and now, instead of bolting to get some work done, he’s making flight plans for me and offering to take care of my parents.

“No, thank you, though. My daddy’s not big on accepting charity, although, he might have to learn to pretty soon from the sounds of it.”

“Okay, well if you change your mind let me know, and I’ll arrange it.”

“I will and, Ash…”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

Three words I’ve never said to a man teeter on the edge of my tongue but I chicken out at the last second. It’s too soon, too new, and I don’t want him to think I only said it because I’m shell-shocked over losing my home, although, I probably am.

“Uh, when will you be back?”

He pauses, and I swear he knows. After staring for a few seconds that feels like ten minutes, he answers.

“It shouldn’t take me long, less than an hour.”

“Okay.”

“Want me to bring you anything when I come back?”

“Um, maybe something to drink?”

“Whiskey neat?”

“Oh God, no. Water, please.”

“Figured you’d say no; I wouldn’t bring you whiskey anyway.”

“So why’d you offer?”

“Seeing if you drink under stress.”

“Well, now you know I don’t. You don’t have to trick me into telling you things. You can just ask.”

“Just make sure you keep giving me the opportunity to ask, okay?"

"I'm coming back, I promise."

There's nothing that could keep me from him now, not even a killer tornado.