By the afternoon, and after some hefty doses of Dayquil, Libby was feeling marginaly better. Not realy wel enough to go to the party, but the room was staying stil, and she had found the energy to finish her English paper. When she had warmed her voice up a bit she was able to cal Mel and rasp out an explanation. Mel was disappointed, but John had already arrived so Libby was confident that she would cheer up soon enough.
After a shower that, she imagined, washed away al her germs, Libby changed into fresh clean pajamas and climbed back into bed determined to sleep off the rest of this awful day. And then the door bel rang. Libby had not hung the trick-or-treaters welcome sign provided by their building manager, but not al kids paid attention to that sort of thing when free candy was at stake. The door bel rang again. Libby contemplated dragging herself to the door, and wondered if there were any candy decorations left from the cupcakes she had made for Mel’s party.
Maybe she could just hand out the cupcakes? They were just going to waste now anyway.
“Are you crazy?!” Tony’s head popped around the corner into her bedroom. Had she progressed to ful-on halucinations? Tony. Here. In her bedroom? Yep definitely halucinating. “Under the mat? Who keeps a key under the mat? That is the first place anyone would look.
Robbers, axe murders, escaped convicts… I can’t believe you would be so careless.”
Okay this was not how her Tony-in-my-bedroom-halucinations usualy went. Libby decided he must realy be real. “I guess it isn’t that unbelievable—you obviously looked there.” Tony shot her a less than forgiving look. “It’s fine Tony. You have been living in New York too long. No one is going to bother us. Besides we have a doorman. Any axe-murdering, ex-convicts, looking to rip off my mom’s new Cuisinart mixer would have to get by the doorman.”
That earned her a smile. “Yeah Arthur would be a big deterrent. He was half asleep in front of a portable television when I walked in.” Arthur was probably 200
years old and didn’t actualy open the door anymore so much as he waved absently as people let themselves in and out. That was probably why he had transferred to the night shift when Libby was a little girl. “Where’s your mom?
You shouldn’t be alone when you’re sick.”
“Midnight Madness.” Libby shifted into a sitting position. Tony nodded. He remembered now that the week of Haloween was also the Fal Midnight Madness.
Twice a year the shops on Main Street al stayed open until 1:00 am and hosted a kind of a block party—only with shopping. “She stayed home this morning, but she didn’t want to ask anyone else to give up their Haloween night.
Besides I think she has something going with Stuart from the theater next to the bakery. Why are you here?” Tony took a few steps closer. “I had some time before exams, and I thought I would drop in on the party.
Mel said you were sick. Mom made you soup.” Tony lifted an armful of packages that Libby hadn’t noticed he lifted an armful of packages that Libby hadn’t noticed he was carrying. His eyes seemed to travel from the top of her head to where she sat cross legged under her pink flowered comforter. “Your hair is wet.” He took another step towards her.
“I just got out of the shower. That is a lot of soup”
Tony stopped. Libby with wet hair. Libby in the shower. Water rushing down… No. He was not going to think about Libby in the shower. He took a few breaths and forced a friendly smile. “I brought more than soup. I wil be right back.” He turned and jogged out of her room.
Two minutes later he came back empty handed and swept a quick look around her room. Libby silently thanked the powers that be for Wednesday’s spontaneous cleaning episode. And she prayed that she had remembered to put the lid down on her hamper. Dirty laundry was never a part of her Tony-in-my-bedroom halucinations. “This isn’t going to work” Tony quickly closed the distance to her bedside, and in one motion scooped her (pink comforter and al) into his arms. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck as he carried her down the hal into the family room. Somewhere at the edge of her mind she dimly recognized that while this did happen in her halucinations he was usualy carrying her in the other direction. Tony gently put her down on the couch, and left the room again.
When he came back he was carrying two bowls, and had a couple bottles of water wedged under his arm. “Dinner is served.” He puled their coffee table closer to the sofa and placed a bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of each of them. “I hope you don’t mind I helped myself. I love my mother’s soup.” He cocked a happy grin at her as she scrambled to edge of the couch to take a taste.