Chapter 13:Bed Rest

Maryanne was not expecting to end up taking care of not only Riley, but also Max, on her weekend off. Although he has been adamant that he was not sick, Max quickly turned for the worse as the fever took over and the nausea began to build.
Luckily Riley’s stomach was not so active and she remained in bed, sleeping.
“Are you done,” Maryanne calls through the closed door of Max’s bathroom.
He doesn’t so much answer as grunt his reply.
She opens the door cautiously, not sure what she would see.
Breathing a sigh of relief as she notices he has made himself decent, she moves to his side as he wavers above the toilet.
“Come on,” she places his arm around her shoulder. “Who would’ve thought that the great and powerful Max Ryder could be taken down by the common cold.” She tries to laugh but the effort of making sure he doesn’t fall is too great and she groans as he leans to the side.
“Miss, do you need help,” Geneva rushes into the room, but hesitates, not knowing what to do.
“No, it’s okay. Check on Riley, if you can.”
“Oh, yes of course.”
As Geneva leaves the room, Maryanne and Max finally reach the bed. With a few grunts and some strain on Maryanne’s legs and arms, she gets Max in bed. He almost falls over, disorientated, but she is able to catch him and all but throw him back down on his pillows.
Maryanne huffs, pushing locks of hair from her face.
“There we go.” She covers him tightly as he closes his eyes and sighs. Grabbing a bowl of steaming liquid from the nightstand she asks, “Do you think you have energy to eat?”
Max only murmurs and turns his head away.
“Okay, I will take that as a no.” she chuckles softly, replacing the bowl.
They sit in silence for a moment, Maryanne staring at the ground as she listens to Max breath. There is a raspy roughness to his breathing as air is caught in his throat.
He coughs several times, the weight wracking his chest.
Once he is finished, he clears his throat, “How is Riley?”
Maryanne sighs, “She’s okay, still sleeping.”
“Has her fever broken?”
“Yes, I think she’s getting better now. Geneva and I are constantly making sure that she is getting enough fluids. She even woke up a little while ago and ate some soup.”
Max nods and shifts under the blankets, “That’s good. I’m glad she’s getting better.”
Maryanne places her hands in the lukewarm bucket of water on the nightstand and wring out the cloth within. Shaking off as much water from her hands as she can, she brings the cloth to Max’s forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat.
“Hmm, thank you,” he almost whispers, closing his eyes.
Maryanne leans back and takes the time that Max isn’t paying attention to focus on his features. His red hair is darker today than normal, most likely because it is drenched with his sweat. His beard is growing in, a shadow forming across his jaw line. His thick lashes brush the tops of his cheeks and his lips are bright red and plush from the fever.
It is hard for Maryanne not to remember their previous dates. When Max would pick her up outside her old apartment in his Porsche and brought her to high-end restaurants. She had always felt underdressed for her evenings with Max. She is a simple librarian that has never bought such niceties as a new car. She could only afford a small apartment, especially with student loans taking a large chunk out of her monthly paychecks.
Max always told her that her car was a deathtrap on wheels, but she just ignored him. Five years later and she still has yet to get a new one.
Even though he joked about it with her, Maryanne never felt judged by him. Even if the strangers at the restaurants made her feel as though she weren’t welcome, Max always made sure she was comfortable.
She wishes that things could be different. It is odd for her to admit it, even to herself. She really liked Max back then. He was kind and open with her. He was a gentleman.
She just wished that he hadn’t thrown so many wild parties with his ex-girlfriends in attendance. All Maryanne can think about is the pictures that were sent to her by an anonymous number. They were of Max and a random blond woman. Her dress was too short, her underwear peaking out. She was hanging on Max, her face next to his ear whispering to him.
Maryanne shudders and fights off the ache that still lays dormant in her heart. She knows that there is no going back or changing what happened. The only thing she can do now is focus on Riley and hope that Max continues to change his ways. She knows that he is different now, but she is not sure if it will stay this way.
Max begins to stir and Maryanne is thrown from her thoughts.
“Maryanne. . . I,” his face distorts as he cringes, “I just want to say thank you.” He grabs her hand softly, rubbing his thumb gently across her skin. “You have done so much for us.”
Although his emerald gaze is cloudy, he peers up at Maryanne, a smile forming on his lips. She holds back a gasp at the intensity.
“I wish we could start over. Forget about the past.” He breathes in deeply and fights off a cough. “I miss spending time with you. I miss us.”