“How long has she been acting like this?” Gaia relaxes her stance.
“Since I found her. She seems really spaced out.” I don’t want to tell her boss I first suspected Daphne was drunk or high.
“I sent her home earlier this afternoon, and I saw her take a couple Benadryl. Why was she in the woods?”
“No idea,” I say, leaving out the details of my conversation with Daphne.
Either she’s ignoring us or she’s not paying attention, because Daphne doesn’t answer for herself. Instead, she stirs the liquid in the pot while inhaling the fragrant steam.
“Daphne?” Gaia walks over and taps her shoulder. “Maybe you should lie down.”
“Odin mentioned soup,” she mumbles.
“We’ll get you some in a minute,” I tell her.
Reluctantly, she obeys and returns to the couch.
“It’s probably a good thing you’re here. I’m not sure she should be left on her own.” Gaia’s tone switches from suspicious to relieved. “I can come back later if you need to get home.”
“Either way. I’ve got nowhere to be. Happy to stay and keep watch.” I force a shrug, hoping she buys my couldn’t-care-less-either-way attitude. Without a doubt, Daphne would be fine under Gaia’s care, but I’m reluctant to walk away.
What can I do, other than watch her while she sleeps?
I might be a weirdo, but I’m not a creep.
The two women whisper to each other near the couch. Daphne’s eyes cut to me, and then she nods. Whatever their discussion, I’m certain I’m the topic.
“Yeah, I can go. Let me set a timer and after an hour, strain what’s in the pot into a jar. Add half a cup to the same amount of hot water. Sip as often as needed.”
“I want you to stay.” Daphne’s voice is determined.
“If you’re sure. I don’t …” I leave my sentence unfinished.
We stare at each other. Her hair is disheveled and she’s paler than normal, but her eyes are clear. Something passes between us.
“Well, then … I’ll text later.” Gaia stands and shifts her attention between the two of us.
I don’t realize she’s left until I hear the soft snick of the door closing.
“Soup?” I ask, because I don’t know what else to say.
Daphne nods and drags her blanket over her legs.
“One mug o’ chicken noodle coming up.”
I busy myself with heating water, unwilling to think too hard about what I’m doing here and why it’s important I stay.
The microwave dings at the same time someone knocks on the door, startling Daphne. It’s busier than a church on Sunday around here.
Cursing as I open it, I growl, “What is this? The state fucking fair?”
Ranger Daniels stands on the narrow porch, holding two glass jars of liquid.
“Oh.” He falters and takes a step back when he sees me. “Hey there, Odin.”
“Jay.” I lean my shoulder against the jamb like I’m security and I’m not allowing him into the club. “What’s in the jars?”
He holds up one and stares at it with curiosity. “Olive heard Daphne’s sick so she sent over some of my mom’s recipe for ramen.”
“Interesting. Homemade broth?” Would it be wrong to eat some myself? Daphne asked for rehydrated soup, so she might not even want ramen. She’d probably put saltines in it.
Handing over both containers, he tells me, “She swears it cures everything.”
Daphne sneezing behind me declares her presence. I step aside and she stands next to me, taking the jars from my hands.
“Thanks, Jay. And thank Olive for me, too.”
His eyes widen. “You look terrible.”
“Jeez, thanks. So many compliments from men today. My ego won’t know what to do with itself.” Hands full, she shuffles back inside the cabin.
“Has she been to the doctor?” Jay asks me.
“I have seasonal allergies and I can hear you,” she replies from somewhere near the open kitchen. “Why is everyone worried about me? I’m capable of sneezing without supervision.”
“Given I found you in the woods, wandering around in the rain, soaked to the bone, I’m not so sure about that.”
Jay’s brow furrows and his mouth opens like he’s going to ask a follow-up question.
I cut him off with a shake of my head. “Long story. Point is, she’s here, dry, and warm now.”
She declares, “I’m a grown-ass woman who is perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”
Quickly twisting around, I’m met with a dirty look. Facing Jay, I ask, “Did she flip me off behind my back?”
“Yep.” He grins. “Good luck with the caregiving. You’d probably have an easier time with a sick skunk.”
His mention of skunks reminds me of Daphne’s brush with the spray. Her uniform needs to be washed with baking soda, which she doesn’t have. Soaking in vinegar might work.
“I’m going to ignore that comparison because you brought me soup, Jay.”
“And I’m going to leave before I ruin my good deed. Let us know if you need anything.” With a quick wave, he bounds off the steps and jogs over to his vehicle.
“That was nice of him.” Daphne struggles to open the Ball jar’s metal lid.
“Step away from the ramen and go lie down.” I point at the couch and her abandoned nest of blankets.
Other than holding up her hands, she doesn’t move.
“Why are you so stubborn?” Exasperated, I cross the room, stopping when I’m on the far side of the kitchen island.
“Why are you so bossy? I appreciate you making sure I got home safely and bringing me groceries, which I will be paying for, but you’re under no obligation to play caregiver.”
She’s exasperating but if she thinks she’s going to get rid of me, she’s sorely mistaken. Her stubbornness is adorable. Mine is reinforced with steel.
“You’re alone and unwell. Since you don’t have kin nearby, I’m volunteering. You could be nicer about it.”
Using the blanket around her shoulders, she spreads her arms like bat wings. “As you can see, my coworkers are capable of checking in on me. They’re close by.”
Her point is fair, but I choose to ignore it.
“I’ve got nothing better to do,” I mumble. “So indulge me.”
As my confession lingers in an imaginary cartoon bubble above my head, I stare at her, willing her to accept my act of kindness without making it more awkward.
“Fine. Stay,” she whispers and then she adds, “My soup is probably cold.”
Distracted by Jay’s visit, I forgot about the mug in the microwave. After reheating it, I wrap a paper towel around the hot surface and carefully carry it to the coffee table.
“Anything else?”
Eyeing me over her cup, she doesn’t respond to my question.
“Okay. I’ll be in the kitchen, cooking. Mind if I play music?” I ask, opening the app on my phone.
“Go ahead. Bluetooth speaker is over there. I think I’m going to nap.” After taking a few sips, she wipes her mouth with the paper towel and sets the mostly full mug on the table.