Meredith sat slumped in the great
armchair, gazing as the flames of the fire danced their famous dance for her.
She had a bad cold in her nose and as a result, Thomas had insisted she sleep
in the living room. He had always claimed that he had not been ill a day in his
life and such certainly wasn't about to happen now. She, on the other hand,
seemed prone to every little cold bug that drifted into the house, and with no
warm bed of familiar comfort and no strong arms to hold and reassure her,
recovery was miserable and slow.
"UptChishh!" she sneezed carefully into her lace handkerchief, rubbing
at her nose afterward to catch the runs. Her nose felt awfully sore, and she
longed to feel Thomas' soft kisses against it. "UpTEHChish! UptChhh! HuptChoo!" She recognized her nose's games straight away
and quickly put two slender fingers beneath her nose. Meredith felt the cold
wetness of her runny nose against her fingers, but she dared not pull them
away, feeling the tickles build insatiably in her nose. Her fingers were
growing wet, her breaths short and deep, but she held the very sensation back
as hard as she could with every fiber of her will. The running was beginning to
overpower her fingers, and made the tip of her nose tickle as well. She held
her breath, determined to hold back the mighty sneezing fit. Her nose fought
back, plowing over her devices, causing a strong, terribly wet, "Uptussshhhhh! heh-heh-up..." the sensation gave in and backed away from her threats.
Quickly she took the hanky to her nose, wiping her fingers, then blowing
skillfully, clearing one nostril at a time, then pushing her fingers into her
nostrils through the soft cloth to fully clear out all
wetness.
It was a routine she went through at
least every half an hour, and one she had begun only the previous day after she
complained of feeling a wee bit tired and sneezey.
Thomas had practically fled for the day, claiming appointments for work and
society. She knew he was simply making excuses, as he had this morning-- too
busy to have breakfast with her, too busy to be home in time for dinner. Of
course he adored her... it was her sneezey nose he
was not so fond of.
"Ode day," she snuffled,
closing her eyes as a soft smile grew on her face, "he will catch cold and
I'll sniff bay hib
so buch attedtion that
he'll feel terrible for all these tibes."
Suddenly, an idea popped into her
head. She would make him catch her
cold. She would spread her germs all over the house, into his bed pillow, into
his hankies, into the powder room... she sometimes
fantasized about Thomas in the throws of a simply terrible, uncontrollable
sneezing fit. She had never so much as heard the man blow his nose, but that,
too, she grew warm and curious about. To see his proper, efficient hands give
way to a tickle and rub at his nostrils. To watch his nose crinkle, his face
fall, his eyes flutter closed. To have his strong, sturdy body
buckle at a sneeze. To hear him admit in a stuffy,
weak voice, "I hab a code, Beredith."
She shook her heard. Mischief was
far beneath a woman of her stature and intelligence, even in a cold-weakened
state. As much as she would love to see her Thomas, Mr.I-NEVER-get-sick,
sniffle and snuffle, if it happened, it would not be
her doing.
Meredith heard the front door open
and close with a roar of rain, then heard the click and clunk of an umbrella
closing and being tossed to the side. Thomas hated sudden downpours, and went
to great lengths to avoid every single drop of rainwater that was aimed in his
direction. He had a particular art to it, umbrella held close, coat cover
turned up, goulashes pulled up over the cuffs of his slacks, scarf over his
face, two pairs of gloves forced onto his hands, and a slick topcoat. "Meredith?!
She couldn't help but smile to see
his appearance. Thomas stood there in a puddle of water, as soggy and wet to
the bone as a drenched dog. He even had raindrops dripping from his hair to his
face and rolling down his neck to his chest beneath his shirt. "What id
God's dabe..."
"Foolish of me sniff to think I could beat the storm.
Car broke down halfway home and I was forced to wait in the rain for a lift
home. Please, Dear, pry this soggy mess off me!"
She nodded, obeying, taking his hat,
coat, shoes. "You should change right away." She touched his cheek.
"You're chilled. That's dot healthy. Go chadge, Darlig."
He nodded, taking her hand.
"Please help? I've had such a long day and I feel simply useless drenched
like this."
Austin, one of the house servants
quickly paddled into the room. "You called for me, Sir?"
Thomas nodded as he started up our
great, curving flight of stairs. "Pick those up and tend to the wet floor,
please."
Thomas chuckled. "It is
medically proven fact that sniff one cannot catch cold from being out in the rain.
Besides, I never get ill."
Trying her best to contain her
sniffles and sneezes, she gathered for him a change of clothing. Tenderly, she
stripped off his suit coat, tie, shirt, undershirt, cummerbund, slacks,
underwear, socks, then dressed him again, in slacks and a stylish shirt and
sweater for warmth.
As she was finishing with his socks,
kneeling on the floor, she felt the same twinge of tickles in her nose and a
great sense of urgency gripped her. Two fingers quickly plugged her nostrils
once more, and her breath was held in. Her other hand, continued to yank at his
sock. She looked up to see that his eyes were closed and his head almost
completely covered with the thick towel he was using to dry his hair. Feeling
her nose run, and continue to tickle madly, she realized she was going to
sneeze at least once and there was no stopping it. She turned her head and
pushed her nose into her shoulder as hard as she could, muffling
the sound as the sneezes barreled out quickly. "Umptchah! Uhhtchum! Umptph!" Quickly she looked up, expecting him to recoil
and scold her.
His head was still covered with
towel. When he lowered it, he tilted his head a few times quickly sticking his finger
into his ear. Apparently, he even had water inside his ear, the poor dear. He
sighed when it cleared and stood. "Thank you, Darling. Have you eaten
already?"
She nodded. "Sobe soub ad tea to durse by cold."
A look of shock and recognition
passed over his face. "Oh yes," he pulled back a bit. "I'd, uh,
nearly forgotten about that. How, er, are you
feeling?"
Meredith smiled politely; this was
more like him. "A little better, though by dose still gives be sniff broblebs."
He nodded, rising, walking quickly
to the doorway and opening it. "Glad to hear it. I'd best get some dinner,
myself. I'll check on you before I retire to bed if you'd... you'd..." he
stopped, eyes transfixed on a point just behind her, as if it were the most
fascinating wall he'd ever seen in his life.
She turned around to see what was
suddenly so startling and important but as soon as her head was turned, her
ears were invaded by a strange grunt of a sound. "Erghuh!" Her head whipped around
to see his eyes closed and his hand lowering from mid-chest back to its place
at his side.
Meredith decided not to ask what it
had been, assuming he'd only cleared his throat or
adjusted the tightness of his tucked-in shirt. "I should love if you
checked od be before bed, Darlig. Thack you."
He nodded, quickly heading out. "As you wish, my Dear."
Meredith dozed by the fire, a book
of Shakespeare's sonnets open and neglected on her lap. She woke to a gentle
hand on her shoulder and looked up, eager to see her husband. Instead, it was
Clara, the kitchen servant with another blanket and a cup of warm tea for her.
Meredith smiled and thanked her. "Goodnight, Mrs.O'Henry." She took the book off her lap and
placed it delicately on the side table. "Do you need anything else?"
Meredith shook her head. "Thack you, Dear. Sniff! I'll sniff, sniff, sniiiff! I'll be all
right."
With a nod.
"The Master wanted me to tell you he was truly exhausted and retired to
bed very early. He barely ate a bit of food at dinner he was so weary."
Meredith nodded. "Thack sniff, sniff, you.
Sniff!"
"Sweet dreams, Mrs.O'Henry."
"Sniff! Sabe to you sniff." She waited for the maid to leave before taking a new
handkerchief from the pile on the side table and blowing her nose gently,
wetly. She'd needed that greatly.
Meredith reached over and turned off
the lamp, letting the crackles and warmth of the fire substitute for her
husband's familiar breathing and body as she fell to sleep.
"HUURRRSHAHHH!" The sound
echoed through the house, jarring her from a peaceful sleep. It was the closest
thing to a roar she had heard since their trip to the zoo. One
of the dogs, perhaps? A car engine backfiring? A
dropped cake in the kitchen? "Clara?" she called out.
A full minute or so longer, the
young girl came in, looking worked and flustered. "Yes, M'am?" she asked quickly.
"What was that soud, Dear?"
Clara's face fell from stressed to
bemused smiling. "I'd forgotten you have not been up this morning yet.
That, Mrs.O'Henry, was the sound of your husband
sneezing due to a very nasty cold in his nose."
"HUUUHRAHSHHH! HAARRTISHHHOOO!"
Meredith's eyes opened widely in
recognition. "You're jokig!"
The maid shook her head. "No, M'am. A full case of the sniffles and sneezes,
has he. Probably from the chill he took in the rain yesterday, or from yours.
Either way, he's running the staff all over with chores and complaints. Perhaps
you can deal with him?" She handed over a tray of tea. "And bring him
this, as well?"
Meredith laughed, despite herself.
What an interesting turn of events this was! She told Clara to apologize to the
other servants for her on his behalf. Then she dawned
her robe and traveled up the stairs to see Thomas. She poked her head around
the corner cautiously, to observe him without him seeing her. She needn't have
worried about being seen, though, as Thomas appeared to be in no condition to
notice a gun pointed to his head. He lay under ten
layers of blankets, with half a dozen pillows propping him up halfway in bed. A
handkerchief rested in each hand, the one in his left was neat and folded. The
one in his right was rumpled and used, and currently being held a few inches in
front of his face. Speaking of his face, it was tired, worn, fallen. His mouth
hung open, nose wrinkled, powerful nostrils flared, eyes squinting closed. He
pulled back to draw a mighty, deep breath, then fell
forward to expel a sneeze, "HURRRAHHSHHAH!"
He left his nose in his handkerchief to blow it wetly and rub at it. With a few
sniffs, he righted himself, then impatiently called out, "Clara?!
Meredith took that as her cue.
"Good bordig, Dear," she chirped, making
the man jump and scurry to make himself look presentable. "Stayig at hobe today after a hard
week at work?"
He nodded, hiding evidence of his
handkerchiefs beneath the covers. "Thought I would
reward myself with a day off. Thank you for sniff bringing sniff up the sniff
tea." He cautiously rubbed at his nose, then held
it tight between three fingers, then in his whole fist. "Urm-huh! Ehrph-huh! Sniff!"
Meredith realized the sound she'd
heard the evening before had indeed been one of his sneezes, simply contained.
She wondered how it was at all possible to retain such a mighty sneeze as his.
"God Bless you, Dear."
He shook his head. "Not sniff not a
sneeze. I never get sick."
"Ah," she said, correcting
herself, "That's right. Sorry."
He nodded, taking the tea and
sipping it with comfort. "Quite all right."
She sat down on the edge of the bed
to watch him.
"You're not sniff leaving?"
"It's by roob,
too. I'd like to stay a while. To... helb you
relax."
He put down the tea, looking
uncomfortable. "Uhh... you do not have to bother
with such. I'll be fine."
"Of course you will..."
she noticed his face scrunching up once more. He lifted his hand to try to rub
away the tickle but he misjudged his time. The powerful sneeze plowed forth
before he could stop it, "HUURRUUUMMMPHHXGHT!"
he tried to squeeze the last of it off, looking up timidly at her, his hand
rather covered at this point.
“God Bless you.”
“I'm not sick. There must be dust in
here. That Clara never dusts as sniff as well as is needed.”
“Mmmm,” Meredith mused, smiling at
him pleasantly. “If you say so.”