The Layover Page 5

  “Was he sick?” the guy asked me with a thick accent, still holding his phone to his ear.

  “No, just tired. Then he suddenly fell. I can’t find anything else, only high fever.” I checked Jamie’s forehead again. Oh shit. “Really high. He says he feels cold and weak and has a bad headache.”

  The man looked at me confused, his mouth opening and closing a few times. Okay, time to change the strategy.

  I switched to German. “Extrem hohes Fieber, intensive Kopfschmerzen, er ist sehr schwach, als ob er total zusammenklappen wird.”

  The Stephen Merchant-doppelgänger smiled wobbly at me and nodded vigorously. He talked on the phone again and then showed me a thumbs-up. “They will come.”

  I turned my attention back to Jamie.

  He held on to my forearm weakly, his head slumped in the crook of my shoulder. He shivered periodically. He seemed to be fighting to stay awake.

  “You’re going to be fine. The ambulance is coming.”

  He looked half-asleep until he suddenly started breathing faster, and his eyes bulged, staring up at me for a second, raw with fear.

  “Ambulance? That bad?” he choked out.

  “Shhh, baby. Easy. It’s just a fever.” A panic attack on top of whatever this was would be a nightmare. “Slow down, Jamie, breathe with me. Just like that. Easy.”

  He exhaled long and closed his eyes.

  “It’s fine. You’re fine.” What an inadequate thing to say. Luckily, Jamie was probably too exhausted to panic properly.

  “You speak German,” he mumbled accusingly. I had to bend my head and put my ear closer to his pale lips; he spoke so softly.

  “With disgust and only when forced,” I said, trying lamely to lighten up the situation.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  I hugged him tighter. “I don’t know, honey. You seem to have a fever.”

  “I feel like shit.”

  Despite everything, I chuckled. “Yeah. You’ve said that.”

  He burrowed into my hold, still shivering. “Your flight….”

  “I don’t care. I’m not leaving you alone in a foreign hospital. Forget the flights.”

  “They won’t let you come with me.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  He nodded, hiding his face in my chest.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He was scared. Of course he was.

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Tell them you’re my boyfriend.”

  “What?”

  “They’ll make you leave.” He was irrational, but I understood.

  In the middle of the dark fear I felt for him, there was a giddy spark. He wanted me to stay, to protect him and take care of him. Me. I felt grateful for the weakness that made him dependent on me. I imagined that had been my most selfish moment so far.

  “They won’t. I won’t leave you.”

  THEY LET me ride in the ambulance with him, and they promised to keep me informed. Because I didn’t tell them that he was my boyfriend. I told them he was my partner. You have to know which word to use where, and the otherwise rather conservative Switzerland has had a law allowing registered partnerships for quite some time.

  I stood in the emergency waiting room of the Universitätsspital Basel, returning the polite smiles of the passing nurses in their white short-sleeved scrubs. They took Jamie inside to x-ray his chest and run some tests. They had no clue how long it would take. They suspected he had pneumonia. In my book, that meant a lot of coughing. But I guessed they knew better.

  I stared at Jamie’s phone. He asked me to call Ginny, but he didn’t say who Ginny was or what to tell her. I tried to come up with some story but decided against it. I had to make the call soon, and I had to tell the truth.

  He had her on speed dial. She picked up on the second ring.

  “Jamie! Where the fuck are you?” Very Scottish. Lovely.

  “Hi, Ginny. Jamie asked me to call you.” I tried to subdue my accent. It didn’t sound trustworthy, I knew.

  “What? Who are you?”

  “My name is Ondro. I met Jamie in Basel yesterday.” I looked around; nobody was close enough to hear. “We shared a taxi to the airport this morning, and he wasn’t feeling well. I accompanied him to the hospital, and he asked me to stay. He might have pneumonia. I’m waiting for more information.”

  Silence. To the Scottish girl, I probably sounded like a Russian mobster slash abductor.

  “Ginny?” I prodded gently.

  “Can I talk to him?” her voice shook a little.

  “He’s not here with me. I’m in the waiting room. They’ll let me in as soon as they get him settled in a bed. I can try to make him call you. He’s going to be fine. He was just exhausted.” No need to tell her all the drama.

  “How do you know him? He just gave you his phone?” You could bottle the suspicion dripping from her voice. A protective friend. Awesome.

  “He didn’t just give it to me. He told me to call Ginny because she’d worry.”

  “He’s going to be fine?” She must have been terrified judging by the trembling of her voice.

  “Yes. They’ll just give him some antibiotics, and then we’ll find him another flight home. Okay?”

  “What’s your name again?”

  “Ondro Smrek.”

  Silence. Wait for it.

  “What?”

  “Ondro Smrek.”

  “Is this some kind of a joke?”

  I loved her already. I laughed. “Just call me Andrew.”

  “How come you’re there with Jamie?”

  “You’re the one who gave him the hat?”

  Another beat of silence and then: “Oh.”

  “I’d prefer he told you himself whatever he wants to tell you, okay? I’m just supposed to update you on his health and ETA.”

  “Fine. If he can’t call me tonight, you will, okay?” I heard a toddler shrieking joyfully in the background. Was Ginny a mom?

  “Of course.”

  “He wanted you to stay with him?”

  “Yes. He was scared. He felt terrible and didn’t know what was wrong.”

  “So you’re staying, right?” She managed to sound both hopeful and suspicious at the same time.

  “I’m not leaving until he tells me to.”

  She hummed in acknowledgment.

  “Bye, Ginny. I’ll call you, okay?”

  She sighed heavily. “Thanks, Andrew.”

  I had one more call to make.

  “There’s a delay, isn’t there?” Kristina asked.

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Another headache looming. “No, I missed the plane. I really hope you haven’t left the city yet. I’m not coming today.”

  “I was just on my way to the garage. You missed the plane? You?” She didn’t believe me. I’ve been flying several times weekly for eight years. I’ve never missed anything in my life. I knew exactly how many minutes it took me to pack my bag. I developed a seven-step system to fold my clothes, and have a built-in alarm clock in my brain. I’m one of those people who wakes up five minutes before the actual alarm is supposed to go off.

  “You got high last night,” Kristina concluded logically.

  “No,” I chuckled. “I met someone. A guy, an American.”

  “You dumped me for a piece of ass?”

  “Kristi, let me finish, please. We went together to the airport in the morning, and he got sick. I’m at the hospital in Basel.”

  I could hear Kristina breathing. “Is he going to be all right?”

  God, I hope so. “Yes. They say it’s a mild case of pneumonia. Antibiotics for a few days and he’s going to be fine.”

  She sighed. “I was looking forward to hugging you, you know.”

  “I know. But Jamie… I couldn’t leave him here alone.”

  “Jamie? And you met yesterday.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve fucked him, haven’t you?”

  “We spent the night to
gether,” I amended.

  “Slut,” she said.

  I laughed. It sounded empty. “He’s a nice guy. You’d like him. I just want to make sure he’s okay, and then I’ll book another flight. I’ll call you.”

  “Ondro, did something happen?”

  “Yes, I’ve just told you.”

  “No, that’s not…. Whatever. I just thought you sounded off. Just, be careful, okay?”

  “Always. And I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take you out on the grand slalom.” That’s what we used to do—hit as many restaurants and bars and clubs as possible, one drink in each place. Last time we did that was two years ago in Berlin.

  “In Bratislava?” she scoffed.

  “No, I was thinking maybe Budapest?”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  “Great. I have to go. I’ll keep you posted.”

  She made an exaggerated smooch noise and hung up.

  JAMIE WAS asleep on the narrow hospital bed, looking even paler and more exhausted than before. I was straining to understand what the doctor was saying. A German accent is bad enough, and hers mingled with French. I was astounded by some of the abysmal sounds coming from that lovely mouth. I would have just asked her to speak German with me, but Swiss German bewildered me even more. So Swiss English had to do.

  “We call it walking pneumonia,” she said. “A collapse is not very common, but his fever got high very fast. He was dehydrated. Alcohol was bad idea.” She looked at me sternly but smiled a little as well.

  “He felt fine yesterday,” I said sheepishly.

  “He said he was very tired many days. He thought it was stress and a common cold.”

  Oh, Jamie.

  “He has antibiotics to take. He must take all package,” she continued, torturing the English language further. “Until the last pill, understand? Or it can come back. Lots of fluids. No smoking.”

  “I understand. He’s promised me he’ll stop. So maybe this will help him to do it.” Was I laying it on too thick?

  “You take care of him. He will be extremely tired. He has to drink water and juice. He has to eat. Not much. Healthy food. Fruit and soup.” She said soap, but I guessed she meant soup. “He must sleep. Where did you travel?”

  “Edinburgh,” I answered automatically. It was true in Jamie’s case anyway.

  “You better stay in Basel so he can rest. Airports are no good.” That we could agree on.

  “How long?”

  “Until he feels better. The antibiotics help in two or three days. But he will cough a lot. If he coughs, he will be tired. Do not travel if he coughs too much.”

  She was very blonde, very small, and very young. Thank goodness, she seemed to be one of those who thought that a gay couple was as cute as a spring basket of puppies. She smiled at me and squeezed my upper arm. It took some effort since she was maybe one meter and fifty tall, and her hand was the size of a five-year-old’s.

  “Don’t worry. Your man is fine.”

  “Thank you. Can I let him sleep? We’ll leave as soon as he wakes up.”

  “Of course, the room is yours until the evening. Tell the nurse on duty when you leave. You want number to call taxi?”

  “Thank you, I have an app for that.”

  “Apps for everything. That is good.” She smiled, nodded to herself, and said goodbye.

  I sat down on the bed next to my sleeping boy and took his clammy hand in mine. The adrenaline had worn off, and I was tired. I should call Ginny again. But that could wait. I would just sit here for a few minutes and then I’d call her.

  JAMIE SLEPT until half past seven in the evening.

  A quick googling session found me an aparthotel close to the Rhine River in the city center. The holiday season hadn’t started yet this early in December, so I was lucky to get a studio for five nights. It had a small living room area and a reasonably equipped kitchen. I could sleep on the sofa. The receptionist assured me there was one in the studio. I had the bags sent to the hotel. Mine was still at the airport. Jamie’s would take a while since he managed to check it in before he collapsed. I called Ginny again and texted Kristina. Ginny seemed less suspicious but wanted Jamie to call her when he woke up regardless of the hour. Kristina answered simply: “Take your time :)”

  I ate a sandwich in the cafeteria while I read some stuff online about atypical pneumonia. I went to buy some basic groceries in a store close to the hospital, so Jamie would have something suitable to eat.

  I was almost falling asleep myself, sitting in the hard chair next to Jamie’s bed, when he stirred.

  “Ondro?” He looked like he had to work hard to keep his eyes open.

  “Hi, Jamie. How are you feeling?”

  He smiled at me exhaustedly, and I felt my mouth curve as well. “Fucking terrible.”

  “You have walking pneumonia. Did they tell you?”

  “Yeah. Didn’t even know there was such a thing.”

  “Good news is you’ll be fine in just a few days.”

  “I know. I’m sorry I panicked.”

  “Nothing to feel sorry about. Now we have to get out of here, though. It’s late.”

  “I don’t have to stay?”

  “Nope. Unless you’d rather….”

  “God, no! No hospitals. Where am I going?”

  “I found us another hotel. There’s a studio with a kitchen and a bathtub and everything. I thought you’d need more privacy. I had our bags delivered and bought some food. I know you’re not hungry, but you have to eat. I put the pills into your carry-on. You have to take the next one in two hours.” I was rambling. Stop, Ondro, deep breath. “I’ll call a taxi, and we’ll go, okay? The sooner we get you out of here, the better. You need a real bed.”

  He stared at me, confused. “You did all that?”

  “What? I haven’t done anything. Just made a few phone calls. Speaking of phone calls, Ginny’s awesome. She says hi, and you have to call her. She’s worried I’ve kidnapped you or something.”

  “Your flight?”

  Please, don’t send me away.

  “I thought I’d stay to help you if you want me to.” I hesitated. “I have a few more days.” I had as many days as he wanted.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  I shrugged. Before I could say anything, Jamie continued slowly and sleepily. “You’ve already missed your flight because of me. I was stupid at the airport. I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes on an exhale.

  “No, that’s understandable. Anybody—”

  Jamie’s eyes flew open again as if he just woke up properly, and he interrupted me. “I want to pay for everything. And you can leave. You don’t have to stay because of me. I’ll manage.”

  “You can’t be alone. At least not until the fever goes away. And I don’t mind staying.” I hung my head. Here comes the truth. “Ginny said she could take a few days off, come here tomorrow to take care of you, and then fly back with you whenever you’re ready. I told her she didn’t have to.”

  “You shouldn’t have to stay.”

  “Even if I wanted to?”

  “Why?”

  Why indeed. I couldn’t tell him the truth. What was the truth anyway? I shrugged again. “I have the time, and I’m already here. I’m not exactly opposed to your company. Ginny has small kids, right?”

  He nodded and smiled. “Rachel’s barely two.”

  I forced on. “That sounds unnecessarily complicated. I’m glad to stay.”

  Jamie looked at me for a long time and said nothing. His expression was inscrutable.

  “Do you want to call Ginny?” I asked him.

  He nodded. I handed him his phone and waited. He didn’t even sit up to make the call. I wondered how hard it would be to get him into a taxi. He could probably walk, but barely. He was medicated, and he would have a fever again once the meds wore off.

  “Ginny, hi.” Pause. “I’m fine. Nothing heavy. I’ll be home in five days, tops.”

  I tried to gesture at him that I�
��d wait outside, but he shook his head and reached for my hand to keep me from leaving.

  “No, Ondro is here.” Another pause. “Definitely. He’s helped a lot. … I am not talking about that with you,” he said with mock indignation, his weak voice making him sound softer. “Yes, he is.” Jamie lifted his eyes and smiled at me again. The adorable, shy smile of his. “He said that? Okay. … Yes. Fine.”

  What?

  “Cool. That’d be great. Thanks. Don’t worry. … Yeah. Me too. Bye.”

  I stared at him, saying nothing, waiting.

  “So shall we?” he asked on an exhale.

  I nodded. I handed him his hoodie, and he sat up, moving slowly. His carry-on was on the floor next to my chair. I took it with my left hand and waited while Jamie slid into his Converse and his faded parka.

  “You’ll be okay walking to the taxi?”

  “Yeah, I’m just tired.”

  That was an understatement—he moved zombielike. I hugged him around his waist, and he leaned into me like a drunk. I couldn’t help myself; I pressed a quick kiss into his hair when we reached the elevator. He didn’t protest.

  It was stupid of me. But if you could have your most foolish dream fulfilled only for a few days, would you fight it, or would you make the most of it?

  I CHECKED us in while Jamie almost fell asleep slumped in an armchair in the hotel lobby. I led him to the studio with my arm around his shoulders. We didn’t say anything.

  The small apartment had a walk-through kitchen. The living room area was done in creams with deep red and chocolate-brown accents. It was cozy.

  Once in the room, Jamie just looked around, his face blank. He noticed the bags, the king-size bed, and the small sofa, but didn’t comment on it in any way. He shrugged out of his parka and shoes, got briefly tangled in his hoodie, and collapsed on the bed. I forced him to take off his jeans and found him a pair of my sweats. They looked enormous on him, but he’d be warm. He drank a glass of water with his meds and curled into a fetal position under the covers. I wanted to shout questions at him. Do you want me here? Is Ginny coming to take you away from me? Will you kick me out tomorrow?