Intermission // Van McCann

9. We've Got a Huge Problem

The weatherman said a storm was on its way, bringing heavy rain and wind. They were expecting the power to be knocked out and that worried me. I could hear the rain hitting our windows and the wind howling which woke me up throughout the night.

Our alarm finally went off and I immediately got up. I had woken up half an hour before our alarm and knew it was no use trying to go back to sleep for only half an hour. I went to the bathroom to get ready for work and decided to leave Van so we didn't have to fight for the bathroom. As soon as I came back all ready and changed, I noticed Van was still in bed.

"Van, wake up," I called softly, shaking his shoulder. I was a lot nicer than he was. He pulled the blanket from me last time and while I'd like my revenge, I wasn't that mean.

"I don't feel well," he mumbled into his pillow.

"What's wrong?" I questioned.

"I think I'm getting sick. I feel hot yet cold at the same time."

I put my hand on his forehead and could feel it was hot so I went around looking for the thermometer. Once I located it, I ran the thermometer across his forehead and looked at the temperature. 102°F.

"Yeah, you've got a fever. Your temperature is 102°F. You should call in sick. I can text Bondy for you."

I went to find my phone and began texting Bondy but didn't hit send. I glanced at Van, whose cheeks were flushed. He was quite the baby when it came to being sick and there wasn't anything pressing at work.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" I asked.

"I'll be fine."

I held the phone to my chest and debated whether or not to stay home with him today. I was worried about his well being and wanted to make soup for him. I opened up my text message to Bondy and modified it before sending it.

Ren: *Bondy, Van and I will be out today. Van's got a fever and I'm going to take care of him.*

A few minutes later, I heard my phone buzz.

Bondy: *No worries. I hope he feels better soon. Take care.*

I walked over to Van.

"I let Bondy know we'll be out today," I said softly, even though he had fallen asleep again. "I hope you feel better soon." I tucked Van back into bed, turned off the lights, and walked over to the kitchen to start preparing some chicken noodle soup.

It was an odd time to be cooking at 7 in the morning so I tried my best to be quiet as I began rummaging the fridge and freezer for the items I needed. I kept glancing out the window at how ugly it was outside and was glad I didn't have to work. The clouds were so dark that it felt like evening rather than morning. The seagulls were taking shelter on the rooftops of nearby buildings and I could see how blustery it was by how choppy the water looked. There were a few times our lights flickered and I pushed myself onward, determined to finish cooking.

An hour later, I finally finished and made a bowl for myself to enjoy as I turned on the TV and began watching the local news. The morning commute was horrible (no surprise there) and there were reports of fallen trees and some flooded streets. It seems like where we are isn't too bad compared to other places.

I could hear Van stirring in the bedroom and eventually, the door opened and he peered out.

"You're not at work," he observed. His hair was a right mess from the sweat and him running his hand through his hair too many times.

"I don't have anything pressing at work so I thought I'd take the day off. I'll go to work tomorrow. I made chicken noodle soup for ya if you're hungry," I told him, holding up my bowl to show him.