Richard Laymon - Tread Softly

"I haven't changed. I still feel the same about you."

A smile trembled on Nick's lips. "I feel the same, too. I really miss you. How about seven o'clock?"

"Fine. Just let me check with Dad. Hold on a minute."

Nick waited. He took a deep, shaky breath. He'd done it, he'd asked her and she'd seemed as eager as he was. I still feel the same about you. It was almost too good to believe. He was already nervous, anticipating the date.

"Okay," she said. "It's all set. Tomorrow night at seven?"

"Great. I'll see you then."

"Do you know how to find the house?"

"No, but Dad. " He didn't want to lose the sound of Julie's voice. "Maybe you'd better tell me."

There was blue terry cloth under Karen's face. Her lungs felt on fire, pain blasting through her body as a spasm of coughing shook her. Someone's hand was rubbing her back. As she lifted her head, nausea swept through her. She managed to get to her knees and twist around, briefly meeting Meg's worried eyes before scurrying to the toilet and vomiting.

When she finished, she sat on the toilet seat, sobbing and coughing, gasping for breath. Through teary eyes, she watched Meg fold up the bloody bathmat. She unrolled some tissue, wiped her eyes, her mouth and chin.

"How's the noggin?" Meg asked in her low, husky voice.

Karen groaned. She drew fingers through her wet hair, and felt a lump above her ear.

"Thank God I heard you yell. I was about to turn on the I V." Meg opened the medicine cabinet. She took down a box, slid a tampon out, and tore off its wrapper. She handed it to Karen.

While Karen inserted it, Meg pulled the bathtub stopper.

I tell you, kiddo, you scared the shit out of me. How're you feeling? Should I run you over to emergency?"

"I'm okay," she muttered.

"I was gonna give you about ten more seconds to wake up, and then I was gonna call the paramedics."

"How long was I out?"

Meg shook her head. "No idea. Maybe three or four minutes, I don't know. I just knew your ticker was still inking and you were breathing. I figured you'd come around, sooner or later, but I started to have my doubts."

"What a mess."

"The bathmat's a goner. I'll clean up the rest after you're in bed."

"No, I'll — "

"You're in no condition to do anything, kiddo."

Karen looked down at herself, wrinkled her nose, and unrolled more toilet paper. As she rubbed away streaks of blood, she said, "I've gotta take another shower."

"I suppose you do. Sit tight for a second." Meg hurried from the bathroom. Karen continued to clean herself. Soon, Meg returned with a spool of tape. Reaching up, she worked at securing the shower curtain to its rod. "Think it was the curse?" she asked.

"I know it was the curse."

Meg chuckled.

"A week early."

"Stress'll do that. On the bright side, at least you know the bastard didn't knock you up."

"I knew that before," she said.

When the curtain was in place, Meg ran the water. Karen clung to her arm for support, and staggered on wobbly legs to the tub. At her friend's urging, she didn't try to stand while she washed. She sat under the hot spray. With Meg waiting on the other side of the curtain, she shampooed and soaped herself and rinsed.

Meg stood by, hands out to catch her, while she climbed from the tub and dried. "Safe now?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"You finish drying. I'll get us a little something."

"A little what?"

"I'll surprise you."

Left alone, Karen wrapped herself in the towel. She washed down two aspirin tablets with a glassful of cold water. She brushed her teeth. Then she drew a comb through her hair, wincing as she snagged tangles.

"In your room," Meg called from the hallway.

Karen went to her bedroom. Meg, just inside, greeted her with a wink. The covers of her bed had been pulled back, showing her flowered blue sheets. Her chair had been dragged close to the bedside. On its seat rested a tray adorned with crackers, a wedge of cheddar, a small wheel of Gouda, and a cheese knife. Two wine goblets stood on the lamp table, and beside them was an open bottle of white wine.

In spite of her aches, Karen managed a smile.

"Medicine," Meg said. "Cheese and crackers to settle your gut. A Masson Sauvignon Blanc to help you sleep."

"You're really fantastic."

"I know."

Karen put on her nightgown. She climbed into bed, pulled up the top sheet, and eased herself against the headboard. Meg poured the wine. She set the tray across Karen's lap, and sat on the chair. They lifted their glasses. "Here's how," Meg said.

"Here's to you," Karen said. "You saved my life." Meg blushed.

"What are roommates for?"

They clinked their glasses, and drank.

Adecent meal," Arnold proclaimed, pulling up his chair to the breakfast table. He sniffed his plateful of bacon and fried eggs, and sighed loudly. "Ah, the comforts of home."

Smiling, Alice set a plate down in front of Heather. "I didn't see you turning up your nose at your other breakfasts."

"You even wanted mine," Rose reminded him.

"I'll eat anything in the mountains. But this, now — this is real food."

"I wonder what's keeping Nick," Alice said.

"He's probably getting ready for his big date."

"At nine in the morning?"

Arnold laughed, and started to cut his bacon.

Alice carried the final two plates to the table, then went to the kitchen doorway and called for Nick.

"Right there!" he yelled.

"Your egg'll get cold," Alice warned. She returned to the table, sat down, and sighed, glad to be off her feet. She didn't look forward to grocery shopping, walking the aisles with stiff legs and blistered feet. There wasn't much choice, though. Not if they wanted supper tonight.

She heard the shuffle of Nick's moccasins on the kitchen floor. He came up behind her, and sat at the table. He gave her a quick smile. His eyes had a jittery look. "Are you all right?" Alice asked.

"Sure. I didn't sleep too well, is all."

"Nervous about the big date?" Arnold asked.

Shrugging, Nick picked up his fork. It quivered in his shaky hand. He started to cut his eggs with the edge of it. Alice felt uneasy watching him, as if his tension were contagious. She started to eat, but barely noticed the taste of her food. Obviously, the boy was bothered by more than anxiety over tonight's date with Julie. He'd been through a nightmare, and she couldn't begin to guess how deeply it might've affected him. Julie might help take his mind off the rest of it.

"Where'll you be taking her?" she asked.

Nick shrugged. "I don't know. I'll have to check the paper. There're all kinds of movie theaters in the Valley."

"Plenty of drive-ins," Arnold said.

"I don't want you taking her to a drive-in."

"Why not?" Rose asked. "They're neat."

"Nick knows why not."

"We go," Rose persisted.

"That's different."

"Why?"

"Just you never mind, young lady."

"We used to call them passion pits."

"Arnold!"

Rose tilted back her head and smiled, showing a mouthful of chewed bacon. "Oh, I get it."

"What?" Heather asked.

"Mom doesn't want 'em making out."

"Some of my fondest memories…" Arnold started.

"That's enough." She turned to Nick. He was staring at his plate as if oblivious to the conversation, swabbing up the last of his egg yolk with a bit of toast. "You will not take Julie to a drive-in. I'm sure her father wouldn't approve, either."

"I'm not arguing," Nick said.

"Especially on a first date — "

"He's not arguing," Arnold interrupted.

"Okay. I'm not one to nag. I just want to be sure we understand each other."

"I understand," Nick said.

"So," Arnold said, "what's on the agenda for today?"