"Hey, Linda?" Danny wondered, the faintest bit of worry in his voice that Saturday night.
"Yeah? What's wrong?" She turned around and stopped cleaning the counter.
"I've got this stabbing pain in my lower left side. Right here," he pointed to the area that hurt. "I'm thinkin' it's maybe appendicitis?"
"That's a good theory.... And I'm very proud of you for deducing that, but, uh..." Linda put her hand on her hip and leaned against the counter. Licking the corner of her upper lip, she continued, "there's only one problem."
"What's that?" Worry coated his face.
"Your appendix is on the other side."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Oh, thank goodness."
Linda laughed, "it's probably the stomach bug, nothing to worry about."
"Good, good."
********
Linda found her husband in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet. She cringed as he threw up his dinner. She kneeled next to him, put a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"
Danny gestured to the toilet, then himself. He said nothing, but the sarcasm was evident.
"Right... do you have a fever?" She touched his forehead with the back of her hand; it was definitely hot and clammy. She double checked by pressing her cool hand to his cheek.
Without a word, she stood and grabbed the thermometer from the medicine cabinet. She returned to his side, "I'm gonna check your temperature, okay? Hold still."
Danny held still for her, waiting for the little beep of the thermometer.
"One hundred," she moved to his other side to get the other ear. "And one-oh-one." She stood again, "think you could handle some Tylenol?"
"Do I need that?" Danny finally stands as well, pushing down the wave of nausea.
"To keep the fever down, yes." Linda dispenses the Tylenol, gives it to her husband, and leads him to the bedroom. She hands him her thermos, "drink."
"But then you won't have any," he said, as if they didn't have at least three more thermoses in the cabinets downstairs.
"I'll get another one. Come on, take the pills."
He does, then tries to find the sweet spot on the bed. "You coming or what?"
"After a fill up a new thermos."
"But I'm sick," he gave her his best puppy dog eyes.
"I'll only be a few minutes." She rolled her eyes at his pout. "Fine." She gets in bed next to him, close enough to be cuddled but far enough for him to have space. "What am I gonna do with you?"
"I can think of some things." Even when sick, Danny had to make double entendres.
"When you're better," she promised. "Now try to get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."
"I will?"
"Probably. But if you're still puking and running a fever, you're calling in sick."
***********
"Hey," Erin smiled at Danny the next day. "Feeling any better? You seemed... off yesterday."
"No." He plopped down in the seat in front of her desk.
"Still running a fever?"
"Pretty sure...."
"And Linda okayed you to go to work?"
