Oh boy, I knew Angel was feeling poorly when I saw her that afternoon. Again, I hate to sound like a stalker. I’m not. As demonstrated earlier I merely possess some modest investigatory techniques, but I just happened to be walking by the bank in the corner of the grocery store I shop at and she happened to be there and there was no reason not to stop by and say howdy. Besides, we had plans for that night so I had a pretext, always key in these situations, for stopping by.
Tonight was going to be our third date and I was prepared to get busy in the sack if she was cause that sometimes happens on third dates, but I knew she was coming down with something as soon as I saw her and I wasn’t surprised when she texted and said she couldn’t make it.
Hell, I didn’t want her feeling bad, so I texted her right back asking if she needed anything, and she called me and said yeah, now that I mentioned it, she could use some things because her mother was out of town, so I went and got them and took them over.
I knocked on her door and she answered in some PJs and she looked like crap, honestly. Her hair was a mess and her nose was red from having blown it with a tissue so much. She needed attention. That was plain even to an oaf bachelor like me. She said she had chills and aches and she was coughing and sneezing, had the trots and to show she was really serious, even ralphed twice for good measure. I put her to bed immediately and made her some chicken noodle soup. I took her temperature and she slept for a while and when she woke up I gave her some more soup and more TLC and even gave her some medicine to help her sleep.
When I tucked her in for good I caressed her cheek and called her Angel for the first time. I told her to get better, and I’d be right here all night in case she needed anything.
It occurred to me she may well never had a dad to do these things for her. On our second date, we were at dinner and we talked about our pasts and goals and all other second date crap and she never did mention her father. Her mom, sure. Lots of times. Her mom still lived in town and they talked daily and I think she was her only parent.
She was sick and completely surrendered to me and seemed happy to do it. No, not happy. Relieved is a better word. She seemed, no was, relieved, not to have been caring for herself.
I gave her a bath, too. I can remember having this done for me, a nice hot bath with some Epsom salts thrown in. You get in and then you add some towels. You get them wet and then you lay the towels on top and then you pour hot water over the towels. You sweat and some of the bad stuff sweats out of your body. I had her cover herself with the towels first, then I got a saucepan from her kitchen and used it to pour hot water over her and she tilted her head back and smiled and I could tell she was feeling at least a little better.
I slept on the couch, but not too well at first because I was on the earie for her waking up. I checked up on her though around 2 am and she was sleeping soundly, snoring in the soft way I would later become accustomed to, so I went back to the couch and slept pretty well – our first night together, the classic third date.
She was feeling a little bit better in the morning, so I made her some oatmeal. I didn’t give her too much because we humans are the only animals that don’t instinctively fast when sick and there’s a reason for that, but she was hungry and oatmeal is a better breakfast than chicken soup.
Angel wasn’t completely better though, so I spent the day with her. I made arrangements for someone to cover my basketball game that night and she napped and that afternoon I gave her another bath and she felt well enough that afternoon to watch a movie together which I am counting as our fourth date.
She was feeling a lot better by the evening. The baths helped, plus the soup and medicine, of course, but I think the best medicine was merely us being together. I enjoyed fussing over her and it was plain she enjoyed the fussing. Look, I never had kids. I wasn’t looking for a daughter – eventually, I wanted to a lot of un-daughterly things to her – but that time was not now. Another day. I was rather content caring for her.
The tenderest love.
Chapter 2: Angel
Chapter 3: Angel
The Angel and The Captain Homepage