She barely acknowledged his existence, still barefoot and in her nightgown. He rolled to one side for a belly rub and she brushed her foot over his fur as she passed by and into the living room. The smell again. She'd been vomiting. Her hair was thick with the night sweat of a fever. Bill stepped over Warren with a trashcan and a heavy blanket. Karen had already reclined on her side with one of the throw pillows under her head. Bill put the bucket near her head and covered her carefully, tucking her in as best he could.
Warren came out and took a spot on the floor up against the couch as Bill drew some water and placed it on the nightstand next to the couch. "Did you want the TV on"?
"Uh-uh."
"Radio?"
"Uh-uh."
"Okay sweetie. I have to finish getting ready for work. I'm afraid I can't miss this morning's meetings but I'll be home to check on you at lunch." He grabbed the cordless phone from the kitchen and set it near her water glass. "Call my cell if you need me. I'll excuse myself to take your call. And you've got the world's most faithful dog here to protect you." Karen didn't respond.
"Bill needs to brush his teeth and put on some of that stuff under his arms," thought Warren.
Thankfully, Bill stopped to fill Warren's food and water bowls before returning upstairs, but Warren ignored it. He hated when Karen was sick. Her hand dropped over the edge of the couch and began gently scratching the fur behind his ears. It wasn't his favorite spot, but he would take anything she could give.
..... (PASS).....
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