She Never Came Home

Chapter 1

"Reeeeny," Christopher moaned from his reclining chair, "my feet are freezing. Can you bring me my socks, please?"

"Just a sec!" Coreen called from the kitchen. She gave the homemade chicken soup she was simmering on the stove a quick stir and then dashed into the living room.

"The cotton ones, not my dress socks," he clarified before slumping against the back of his chair. Apparently the sheer effort of speaking had exhausted him.

"You mean the ones you kicked off an hour ago because they were making your feet too hot?" Coreen managed to maintain a straight face as she picked them up off the floor. "Here you go."

"Ohh," he moaned again, ignoring her barb, "can you put them on for me? I get dizzy when I bend over..."

Coreen suppressed a smile as she pulled socks onto the feet of her 24-year-old boyfriend as if he was an infant. She recalled, not for the first time, her mother telling her about how her father became almost bedridden every time he came down with the slightest sniffle. Coreen couldn't picture her dad ever being so weak; the youngest of four children, she'd always seen him as the authoritative, always-in-control utility company executive that he was. "Trust me," her mom had assured her, "no matter how old or educated the man, if there happens to be a female nearby willing to take care of him – whether it's his wife, girlfriend, spinster sister, nurse or whatever – he will become sicker and more childlike in proportion to the patience of his caregiver." Her mom paused thoughtfully and then added, "there should probably be some sort of addition to that list of Murphy's Laws that addresses this...."

Coreen pressed the back of her hand against Chris' forehead. "It does feel like you're still running a fever," she told him. He'd been ill with some sort of violent strain of flu ever since she came home from college for Christmas break. He had been very apologetic at first for being ill when they had planned to spend so much time together - going to Christmas parties and shopping and watching holiday movies while cuddling on the sofa. Truth be told, Chris had been genuinely, severely sick when she'd first arrived....as he tried to describe it to her as delicately as possible when he emerged from the bathroom one afternoon, "I've got bad things coming out of every part of me...!" But he seemed to get grumpier and more complain-y as his worst symptoms subsided, and days later he seemed to revert back to that helpless, child-like mode her mother had described.

"I've got some chicken soup simmering on the stove, think your stomach will be able to handle that later?"

"Mmm, sounds good," Chris replied. "Do you have some of those oyster crackers to go with it? I like those better than saltines." He asked. Noticing that she was starting to smirk he quickly added, "I have to keep my strength up, you know. Extra carbs will be helpful."

"I know," Coreen reached over and stroked Chris' forehead, pushing wispy bits of hair out of his eyes and onto his scalp. He closed his eyes and almost purred at her soothing touch. "You just relax, and I'll bring you some nice hot soup with oyster crackers and some juice in a little bit." She tucked the afghan up around his shoulders and under his feet and gently kissed his forehead.

"You truly are an angel of mercy," he murmured as he dozed off.

"At least my elaborate chicken dinner didn't go totally to waste," Coreen thought as she stirred the soup, gave it a quick taste and added a pinch more of garlic powder. She'd purchased a small roasting chicken with the intention of making Chris a cozy, heartwarming pre-Christmas Eve dinner. Even though he was already starting to look green at the gills when she'd arrived with her bags of groceries he still couldn't suppress his sarcastic sense of humor that always made Coreen laugh. "Are you sure that's a chicken?" He'd asked, peering at the packaged bird. "It looks like something you'd pluck off of a window ledge." Once it became apparent that Chris was going to spend the rest of the day between the bathroom and his bed, Coreen roasted the chicken and later munched on the drumsticks while caring for her boyfriend. Luckily the vegetables she'd brought were equally handy for soup as they were for the stuffing she'd planned to make.

Two hours later Coreen set up TV trays in front of the two La-Z-Boy chairs in Chris' living room. She'd found a couple of packets of oyster crackers in one of his kitchen drawers that also contained a long-forgotten collection of ketchup packets, hot sauces and pre-wrapped sporks.

"This is soo delicious," Chris commented in between gulps of soup. "And thank you so much for going out and getting my special crackers..."

"Oh, nothing is too much trouble when my baby is under the weather," she smiled. "Why don't you go to bed and nap for a while," she added as she saw his eyes starting to droop. "I'll clean up and come rest with you in a bit."

After Chris staggered sleepily off to bed Coreen cleared their trays and carried the dishes to the kitchen. She dug around in the kitchen cupboards and found a large Tupperware bowl. She poured the leftover soup into it, sealed the lid, and placed it in the refrigerator. She put all the utensils she'd used into the dishwasher, turned it on, and suddenly realized that she was exhausted. She brushed her teeth, quickly slid into a T-shirt and pair of sweatpants and climbed into bed beside Chris, who was already snoring contentedly.

Coreen stirred slightly and mumbled "Hmmph?" when she felt the mattress bumps and waves that meant Chris was getting out of bed.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," he said softly to her.

"S'OK," she yawned. "You sound a little perkier than before...how do you feel?"

"Actually, now that you mention it, I am feeling a lot better than before."

"Glad to hear it," Coreen said as she sat up on the side of the bed and stretched.

"I think your chicken soup was the miracle cure," Chris added. He looked at the digital clock on his nightstand. He was surprised to see that it was only 5:45; he felt like he'd slept forever. "It's still kinda early," he said, "are you up for watching a movie?"

"Are you up for it?" Coreen countered. He'd been so ill and helpless earlier...

"Yeah, I'm not as achy as I was before, and I think maybe my fever has broken..." He smiled at her. "And I don't want your whole Christmas vacation to be spent playing nurse to me; we should have a little bit of fun."

Coreen noticed that Chris was still very pale and had dark circles under his eyes, but she appreciated him making the effort to spend some "boyfriend/girlfriend time" with her before she had to go back to school.

"OK, why don't you go choose a movie while I take a quick shower," she told him. She returned to the living room 20 minutes later, dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, her long blonde hair still wet.

"There's a blow dryer in the cabinet under the sink," Chris offered. Coreen was surprised to see that he had moved from his favorite chair to the sofa, and had also dragged the comforter from his bed along with him.

"I know," she replied, "but by the time the movie ends, my hair will be dry anyway."

"Well, in that case, prepare yourself, because I have a holiday classic all queued up for you...."

"Uh-oh," Coreen said with trepidation. She knew Chris well enough to interpret that tone of voice and the fake somber expression on his face to know that he was up to No Good.

He pressed the "play" button on the remote control and Coreen simultaneously groaned and giggled when the opening credits to Santa Claus Conquers the Martians rolled. "I had a feeling it wasn't going to be It's a Wonderful Life," she told him as she snuggled underneath the comforter and curled up beside him on the sofa.