Love Thy Neighbor

Chapter 35

Just like the previous year, Shawn and I spend Christmas in Pickering. Because Hanukkah is over, I don't have to rush back to light the menorah. We stay at his parents' house from Christmas Eve through the morning of the 26th. Christmas is similar to the one prior, though I'm now accepted as one of the family, so it's very comfortable and relaxed. Shawn's slightly under the weather with what appears to be a cough and cold. His mom jokes that spending time on the beach in Brazil and then traveling to Canada in the middle of winter will make even the healthiest person sick.

"Are you thinking of having a New Year's Eve party again?" I ask on our way back to Toronto, the car loaded down with presents and leftover food.

"Should I? I don't know. All I want to do is lock ourselves at home and just veg out for a week. We've been going nonstop since I got home."

We have had a ton of social commitments between family holiday stuff and reconnecting with friends.

"Liz and Jules mentioned going to a club, we could do that."

"If you really want to," he says and then sneezes a few times.

I sense he's not into the idea so I let it drop.

"Want to start Game of Thrones this afternoon?" I ask. "We've been saying we want to watch it."

"We won't have time to watch it all before I go back on tour."

"So we can watch it apart and talk about it. It will be fun," I say cheerily.

"Let's just go home and watch a movie."

I'm silent for a few minutes.

"Are you mad at me?" I ask.

Shawn lets out a deep sigh and runs his left hand through his dark curls. "No."

"Yeah? Because your tone says differently and you are being really oppositional."

He swings into his assigned parking spot in the garage and gets out of the car. Instead of opening my door like he usually does, he goes to the trunk and starts pulling stuff out.

"We will need to take two trips," he says after he loads up my arms with the food Karen has packed up for us.

We eventually get everything inside. I put the food away and then find him unpacking in his room.

"I'm going to take a nap," he says as he puts his overnight bag in the large walk-in closet.

"I'm going to my place to unpack and do laundry," I say. "Text me when you wake up."

And with that, I leave.

As I unpack, I find the beautiful bracelet Shawn had given me for Christmas. It's platinum with diamonds and peridot stones, which is his birthstone. I put it on my wrist instead of putting it in my jewelry box. It is so lovely.

I'd given Shawn a bar cart. It's very modern, made out of black wrought iron and weathered wood. The rear cart wheels were oversized, giving it a unique look. I'd included a set of fine crystal glasses and several bottles of high end booze. It was still at his parents house since we could not fit it in the Jeep with everything else. Manny was going to run it over one day this week.

After I get a load of laundry going, I curl up on my couch with a book and wait to hear from Shawn. Several hours pass, so I decide to text him.

Me: You up?

Shawn: Just woke up. I feel like shit. Can you take me to the clinic?

Two hours later we're back at his place. He tested positive for the flu and has been told he needs bed rest. He's been given Tamiflu with hopes they caught it in time.

"I fucking hate my life right now," Shawn complains as he crawls into bed after taking a long shower.

I tuck him in and feel his cheek. The ibuprofen has definitely reduced his fever a bit.

"You'll be fine by the time the tour starts again," I reassure him.

"Yeah but the rest of my break is going to be spent sick and recovering," he grumbles.

To be honest, a very small part of me is relieved to know his cranky attitude earlier was the illness talking and not because he has a problem with me.

"You need to go home, Jess. You are going to get sick, too."

I sit down next to him and run my hand over his slightly warm forehead. "I got the flu shot on campus. I'm sure I will be fine. Besides, given how we've spent a lot of our time since you got home, you've already exposed me."

"If that's the case, do you think we can fool around while I have the flu?" he asks hopefully.

I know that part of his frustration about being sick is missing out on sex. We only have a short time together and we want to make the most of it.

"No. The doctor said you cannot overexert yourself. The only way to get better fast is to rest." I stand up. "And hydrate. I'm going to go get you some ginger ale."

After I give Shawn a drink, I go into the living room. I call my mom for Nana's chicken soup recipe and then go online and order some groceries to be delivered so I can make it right away. They call chicken soup "Jewish penicillin" because it's known to make a sick person much better. I can hear Shawn in his room on the phone. He was going to call his parents and Andrew. When his room returns to silence, I go back in.

"You should nap," I tell him.

"I know. I'm just so pissed. I know I got sick because I was run down from not sleeping on the tour."

"All the more reason to sleep now as much as you can," I say as I straighten out his blankets.

"Stop, Jess. I don't need to be fussed over."

I stand up and look him in the eye, hands on my hips. "You know, I am really sorry you are sick, and I am willing to do anything to help you, but you have been nothing but a dick to me all day."

Shawn frowns. "I feel like shit. Sorry."

I walk out and go to the living room to wait for the food delivery. It arrives fairly quickly and I start making the soup. By the time I have the chicken simmering with the vegetables, I hear Shawn coughing. I consider bringing him something but remember that he asked me to not fuss over him. Instead I sit on the couch, plug my earbuds in, and watch Love, Actually.

Shawn wanders into the kitchen in his boxers and a t-shirt. He grabs a water bottle out of the fridge and some goldfish crackers off the counter. He sits down on the couch, but not right next to me.

"What are you making?" he asks. "It smells good."

I pull my earbuds out. "Chicken soup."

He nods.

I wait a second, assume he's done talking, and put my earbuds back in and press play.

"I'm really sorry I snapped at you," he says.

I remove my earbuds again. "Which time?"

"All of them. I know you are just trying to help."

He then scoots a little closer to me and pulls my feet up onto his lap.

"Forgive me?" he asks.

"Of course," I say. "How are you feeling?"

"Angry."

"I meant more physically, but let's talk about this anger," I suggest.

"There's not a lot to say," he says. "I'm not enjoying the tour like I should, I am having horrible insomnia, I'm acting like a prick to the guys, and I know I have months of the same ahead of me."

"I wish I could make things better," I say soothingly.

"You could," he mutters, "but you won't."

"I could but I won't? What does that mean?" I ask.

Shawn shrugs. "I'm going to try to sleep some more."

Because he's so sick and looks exhausted, I don't push. We will definitely be continuing this conversation later.