took three days before Emily was able to shake the chills, the fever, and the sweats. The soreness in her throat eased some and her ears, with drops from the drugstore, ceased to ache. The toddies and the aspirin had finally worked. Or else, as Emily had said, the flu was running its course. She drank constantly, urged on by Ian, who sat at her side the whole time. “You look worse than I feel,” Emily whispered when she woke from a nap on the fourth day.
“I feel like shit,” Ian said quietly. “Sleeping in this chair has given me a permanent crick in my neck. Guess what, I ironed today.”
“Good, the job is yours,” Emily quipped. “It looks so nice outside today, Ian, open the windows and let’s air out this room. I don’t want you to catch whatever I have.”
“I think it’s a little late for that,” Ian said, banging at the window. He finally raised it. “If you think you can handle being alone, I’m going back to class tomorrow. You have to promise to stay in bed, though.”
Emily nodded. “I’ll be fine. How far behind are you going to be?”
“I’ll catch up.”
“I’m so sorry, Ian. I appreciate all you’ve done.”
“You were pretty sick. This is the last time I’m listening to you, Emily. This has been eating at me, your stupidity and my stupidity for going along with it. I know better.”
Which meant she was really the stupid one. She didn’t know better. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
“Emily, I was so worried about you. I felt so…helpless. You just lay there. I love you,” he said gruffly. “But no, I am not taking over the ironing. How about some scrambled eggs?”
“Sounds good. No toast, though. My throat is still a little sore.”
“Another toddy, okay?”
“Hey, I’m hooked.” She smiled. “I love you, Ian, with all my heart.”
“My heart returns the feeling.”
Emily scrunched herself into the mound of pillows. Everything happened for a reason. She’d gotten sick and Ian had realized how much he loved her. He’d taken care of her, putting his own life on hold for a few days. “Thank you, God,” she whispered, “for giving me such a kind, wonderful husband.” Another part of her mind shrieked, fool, fool, fool.
Only time would tell if she was a fool or not.
Ian was right, Emily thought as she stepped from the shower. The last three years had gone by in a giant, tired blur. How was it possible that they were approaching their third anniversary? What she wanted, the only thing she wanted was a long, hot bath and one of Ian’s soothing massages. A good dinner, a little wine, and then some lusty lovemaking. Instead she was going to celebrate her anniversary at a restaurant. She’d taken a shower instead of the long, soothing bath, and the dinner would be Chinese with carry-in beer. She did have a new dress, one that Ian said made her look like his own glorious rainbow. It was beautiful, she couldn’t quibble with the colors, but the style didn’t, in her opinion, suit her. Plus, she didn’t have a single pair of shoes that matched the dress.
This was it, the end of the long years of studying, of sacrificing. Life was going to move forward now. Now she would be able to quit her job, get pregnant, and perhaps start school. It was her turn now. Tomorrow was going to be the first real day of her life with Ian. Tomorrow afternoon she was going to register for the fall semester.
Emily found herself smiling. Thirty-one wasn’t too late to start her education. Tomorrow morning she was going to sleep in, then go by Sassy Sallie’s and give her notice. “Thank you, God, for finally giving me this day,” she murmured.
In the bedroom, Emily slipped on a robe before she settled down to paint her toenails. She was on her pinkie when Ian arrived. He picked her up, whirled her around, and then kissed her until she thought her chest would explode from lack of air. “Tell me we aren’t still newlyweds!” he chortled.
“We’re newlyweds, we’re newlyweds,” Emily laughed. “You’re a half hour early.”
“That’s because I finally said to that old bear, today is my anniversary and my wife needs me. I wish I had done it more often. You aren’t upset with me, are you, Emily?”
“Of course not. Do you really think I counted all the missed holidays, birthdays, and the last two anniversaries? And all those weekends when you had to cover for someone. Not on your life. That’s all behind us now. We really need to talk, Ian, about the future.”
“I know. Tonight at dinner. We’re going to…guess, Emily?”
“The Chinese Garden.”
“Wrong. We are going to, wait till you hear this, Adolpho’s. I made the reservation last week. I don’t care what it costs. Hovering waiters. Champagne. For you. You deserve the best and I’m finally going to give it to you. Listen, I know it’s money you earned, but right now I don’t have a pot to piss in. That’s going to change starting tomorrow. Tell me it’s okay, honey.”
Emily stared at her husband. He hadn’t changed a bit since their wedding day. His summer blue eyes could still beguile her. She fought the urge to brush back his wheat-colored hair. He didn’t like it when she did that. He looked so incredibly handsome in his white Arrow shirt and Fabil tie. There wasn’t a trace of a line or wrinkle in his face, whereas hers had several. Her early years in the sun, she supposed. The only thing was, Ian didn’t look right to her unless he smiled. Right now, this very instant he looked chagrined, like a small boy who’d done something wrong. She and she alone could wipe the look away and replace it with a smile. So what if tonight’s dinner would be two student loan payments? Once in a while you had to do something wild and crazy, and today was her anniversary. “Why don’t we say we both deserve this night out and who cares what it costs? Promise me candlelight or I’m not going.” Emily giggled. She could get into this; she’d had many years of practice making Ian smile. He did.
Ian smacked his hands gleefully. “I’m going to shower and then we’re both going to get into our new duds and split this place. When we get back, I’m going to love you all night long. What do you think of that, Mrs. Thorn?”
“I think that’s a splendiferous idea, Dr. Thorn.” Please, God, don’t let me fall asleep, she prayed silently. Let me get through this evening in one mental piece.
“I have a better idea, let’s get a head start. C’mon, Mrs. Thorn, we haven’t done it in the shower yet.” He kissed her then until she thought her teeth would rattle. Her adrenaline kicked in. It had been over a month since they’d made love. “Do that again,” she moaned. He did, all the way into the shower and while the shower was pelting them both. The exquisite release left her buoyant. They were both giggling like children when they left the apartment.
Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the restaurant.
“They give you a rose when you leave,” Ian whispered.
Emily smiled. A rose would be nice, something to remember the evening by. She’d press it into her photo album when it wilted.
Ian frowned. “Promise me you aren’t going to pick the service apart. Promise me you won’t roll your eyes if the waiter makes a mistake.”
“Only
