Sunflowers and Ink

Part 2: Chapter 10

Josselin watered Meara's plants that night, and the night after. Every time he went into the flower shop, the broom and watering can were in a different place, and he knew someone was having fun with him. But it was harmless, and there was nothing threatening, so he didn't complain. He didn't want to offend anyone who might take it out on Meara when he got back.

Saturday came and when Josselin came downstairs, the florist was still closed. Maybe he's opening late for some reason, Josselin thought. But at 11:00, nothing. Noon, nothing. He texted Meara and didn't hear anything back. At 1:00, he finally went to Sara and said,

"I need you to clear out my schedule today. Cancel all my appointments. Reschedule them wherever they fit, even if it puts me with clients back to back. Something's come up."

Sara's brow furrowed in worry. "Is it Meara?" she asked. "I know the shop's been closed."

"He's had the flu and he's not getting any better. I haven't heard from him all day. I'm going over to check on him. I might have to take him to the hospital."

Josselin's fists clenched tight on the steering wheel as he drove. For the first time in ages, he was really, truly grateful that his mom had left him her car when she died. He didn't know how it still held itself together after so many years of use, through miracles or magic or sheer stubborn determination, but he took good care of it and it still ran. It was a bit beaten up, but he couldn't ask for a more reliable car.

Meara didn't live far. Josselin pulled into the apartment complex's parking lot and found the closet space to Meara's apartment he could. He took the stairs two at a time and knocked on the door, then quickly rang the doorbell three times in quick succession. Adam had rigged it up so it would flash a light in Stacey's room, and Josselin wanted to be as annoying as possible to get him to the door right away if he was home.

The seconds that passed felt like minutes, and Josselin had finally just caught his breath when Meara opened the door, wrapped up in a blanket draped over his head. His skin was pale and his face was thinner than it had been two days ago. If he'd dropped that much weight in such an obvious way, he clearly wasn't keeping anything down. Maybe not even water. His lips were dry and chapped and an unhealthy whitish pallor, and his eyes were ringed in dark blue and purple.

"I'm taking you to the hospital and you aren't arguing with me," Josselin said.

Meara frowned. "But --" he started weakly.

"Put on your shoes," Josselin interrupted.

"But I can't afford --"

"I'll pay for it. Put on your shoes."

Meara's brow drew down and his eyes glistened, and Josselin thought for a split second that his boyfriend was going to start crying. But then Meara sighed and nodded, slipping on the pair of flip flops he kept near the door and grabbing his wallet from the little table beside it. He slid the blanket off his head and looked around, as if trying to find somewhere to put it, but Josselin said, "Bring it with you. We're going to be there for a while. You can wrap up if you get cold or use it as a pillow."

Meara sniffled and nodded and followed Josselin out to his car.

The ride was mostly silent. Every now and then, Meara lurched, and Josselin found a plastic bag in the backseat for him in case he needed to vomit again. Thankfully, he didn't. But he was wobbly when they crossed the parking lot to get to the ER, and he collapsed into the chair at registration just before his knees gave out.

They waited for three hours before an attendant finally came back to bring Meara to a room. Nurses and doctors rushed in and out, busy with dozens of other patients besides him. A nurse put in a saline IV and gave him a shot of anti-nausea medication, and a phlebotomist took some blood to run some tests. He talked to the doctor, briefly, a few times, and after six hours of IVs and tests and waiting, she came back and said, "We're going to move you to critical care. We might end up keeping you two or three days, depending on how fast you recover."