Cabin fever, p.13
Cabin Fever, page 13
“I do love reading, I just don’t get a lot of time. Work, you know?”
Morgan grunted as her reply, which might’ve been because she was drinking tea or might’ve been because she wanted to avoid talking about work.
“Maybe it’s because I’m reading books about boys, though. Do you read a lot?”
“Not as much as I used to.” Morgan was quiet so long Shelby thought she was done talking for the day, but she finally said, “I used to read during my lunch break at the hospital. We had our own breakroom in the lab so it was usually empty and I could focus.”
“What’s a lunch break?”
Shelby couldn’t but help laugh and Morgan joined her. “Yeah, I haven’t had one since I moved up here.”
The mood was souring again, and Shelby didn’t want that. Morgan was cold and sometimes rude, but there seemed to be an interesting person underneath all that. If she could pull Morgan out of her shell, maybe they could find a way to get along. She remembered the way Morgan came to life when she talked about wanting to help other lab techs with better instruments. Maybe that was the way in.
“Tell me what it’s like in the lab. What do lab techs do?” Shelby asked.
“You’re in labs all the time, aren’t you? You don’t know what we do?” Morgan’s eyebrows had come together again, and Shelby couldn’t tell if she was being defensive or if she was offended.
“I usually only get to talk to the lab directors,” Shelby said. Morgan scowled even deeper at that. “If I’m lucky, I meet the head of the microbiology department since that’s the group that uses our instrument. But there are other departments in the lab and I don’t know anything about them. I’m curious is all.”
For a moment, she thought Morgan wouldn’t answer. After all, she’d been standoffish since they’d met, but Shelby had hoped her obvious excitement about her work and her affection for her old colleagues would win out, and they did.
“You know lab techs do all the scientific testing on the blood and urine samples doctors collect?” Morgan asked.
Shelby nodded in encouragement. “I’m squeamish about blood, but I know that’s what labs work with. You don’t have to do that, do you?” Shelby asked.
“Sometimes. All lab techs can draw blood, but we’re—they’re usually needed to run the tests, so nurses or phlebotomists draw the blood.”
Morgan was definitely starting to warm up. This was where Shelby shined. Her ability to draw people out of their shells by showing interest in their interests. Most of the time she used that skill to improve her sales chances. It was nice to use it now without ulterior motives.
“But if I had a blood-drawing emergency, you could step in, right?”
Morgan smiled and even blushed a little which was honestly really cute. “I could but you probably wouldn’t want me to. I’ve never been a big fan of needles, no matter what side of them I was on.”
“Morgan Allen, afraid of needles?” Shelby pretended to be shocked and she laid it on pretty thick.
“My one vulnerability.”
Morgan was smiling now, and her voice carried a hint of laughter. It looked good on her. Humor looked good on her. She had carried this air of superiority since Shelby had met her. It occurred to her that it might have been bravado. Acting the part of the confident, too-cool-for-school loner as a defense mechanism. The realization made Shelby all the more interested in getting to know the real Morgan.
“Lab techs are essential in the medical field.” Morgan’s tone was serious again. “Over eighty percent of diagnoses involve at least one laboratory test. We save lives.”
“But no one knows. As far as most people know, doctors and nurses are the only ones working in hospitals. Meanwhile y’all are doing this important work.”
“Exactly.” Morgan sat up now and her eyes had that fire of pride in them.
As Shelby suspected, this was the way to get to know the real Morgan. It wasn’t even flattery. Just interest in work that was clearly important to her. Truth be told, Shelby knew most of what Morgan had said already. When she first started at Ashworth, she sold centrifuges and similar generic lab equipment, so she knew the basics about how labs functioned. She’d only moved into the specialized equipment at the start of COVID. Still, it never hurt to let people explain their passions. There was always something new to be learned. And today Shelby had learned that Morgan was proud of her field of study and cared deeply about the work she’d done. She’d also learned that getting to know Morgan was worth fighting through the prickly exterior.
Chapter Twelve
Morgan’s sleep wasn’t much better Sunday night than it had been the previous two. It helped that she wasn’t trying to sleep with her knees practically tucked under her chin. The couch was so short she’d never been able to truly get comfortable, but it also smelled like musty old cabin furniture. The bed, however, carried the lingering aroma of lavender and some other, indescribable scent that clung to Shelby. Morgan couldn’t quite figure out how Shelby managed to smell so good when they were stuck in an old man’s cabin that probably hadn’t been aired out since the first Clinton administration.
Then there was the unmistakable warmth of another body in the bed. Shelby had the annoying habit of falling asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. There was the benefit of her not staying up all night, chattering away in the dark like the other players on teenage Morgan’s traveling softball team. The disadvantage was the feel of her there, her breath slow and even and making Morgan feel safe and terrified at the same time. She only told herself it was an accident when she shifted enough on the bed that her pinky finger rubbed against Shelby’s arm. Then there was an almost overwhelming urge to reach out further. To pull Shelby’s body toward her, to run her hand along the plane of her stomach, to wrap her tightly against her body and fall asleep with Shelby curled against her. Morgan had to clench her teeth and fight the urge. She had to squeeze her eyes shut and tell herself not to move. Eventually, the urge passed, but only because she fell into a deep sleep.
Unfortunately, that sleep had included some dreams about Shelby that she did not want to admit having, even to herself. Not when she woke up, her body dangerously close to Shelby’s, and not while she was sitting at the little cafe table, so close that their elbows were almost touching as they worked on that silly puzzle.
Despite frequent breaks to fret over not being rescued yet, they were almost finished with the puzzle. Now that it was so close to completion, Morgan could see it was a ridiculous scene of dogs playing poker. Honestly, if she’d known this was the image they were working on from the start, she might have decided against the puzzle altogether. It was silly and not her style at all. She was glad she’d gone ahead with it, though. She’d had a surprisingly good time watching the scene materialize in front of her as they constructed the puzzle. She probably wouldn’t have enjoyed herself half as much if she’d known the goal from the start. She admitted—to herself only, of course—that Shelby’s method of solving puzzles actually made it more fun.
“I miss real food.” Shelby settled a large piece into place that revealed the basset hound in the foreground had a full house. “I know it’s only been three days, but I’m already getting sick of canned food and oatmeal.”
They’d eaten the last of their gas station sandwiches for lunch the day before. Even though the bread had gone both soggy and stale, there was at least lettuce on them. Now they were down to the contents of the pantry and half a bag of pork rinds. As far as Morgan was concerned, the pork rinds were worse than canned peas, so she couldn’t help but agree with Shelby.
“Me too.”
“What’s your favorite food?” Shelby asked.
“Italian.”
Shelby set another piece into place and then turned away from the puzzle. She settled her chin onto the heel of her hand and squinted over at Morgan. It would’ve felt like interrogation a couple days ago, but Morgan had come to see that Shelby got this weirdly intense focus when she asked other people about themselves. It was like an alien scientist studying humans for the first time, but somehow it wasn’t as unsettling as it should have been.
“Too generic,” Shelby said. “What’s the specific meal you love more than any other? Your favorite food memory.”
“Food memory?”
“You know that meal that you’ll never forget the taste of or how it made you feel.”
“I don’t know that I have one.” Now Morgan was starting to squirm. Not because Shelby was making her uncomfortable, but because she suddenly wondered if she’d ever had a meal she would remember like that. Was she supposed to? Did other people have those memories and she was the only one who didn’t? “What about you? Do you have one?”
“Sarah’s Empanadas.”
“Beg pardon?”
“Sarah’s Empanadas.” Shelby’s face took on a faraway expression like she was talking about an ex-lover. “It’s in Raleigh, North Carolina, and it’s absolutely divine. You wouldn’t think so to drive up to it. It’s in this little strip mall in the middle of nowhere and it’s got cheap particle board tables and those plastic cafeteria chairs.”
That dreamy look didn’t mix with the description Shelby gave. If Morgan had been forced to guess, she would think Shelby’s favorite restaurant would be one of those steak places where all the prices were listed as “market” or a French place that served snails and foie gras. Of course, that image of Shelby had been formed before she knew how poor she’d been in her twenties. Maybe plastic cafeteria chairs made a little more sense now.
“They have all these wonderful, unexpected flavors of empanadas. Like Cuban sandwich and shrimp and grits. And you can get them frozen to go, too.” Shelby tapped her fist on the table like she’d made up her mind. “When we get out of here, first thing I’m doing is driving down to Raleigh with a big cooler and getting a dozen of each flavor to fill my freezer.”
The conviction was adorable, especially considering she was talking about strip mall frozen empanadas. Morgan laughed and said, “I can’t believe you’re already thinking about getting back into a car after what we’ve been through.”
“I’m a jump right back onto the horse after you fall off kind of gal.” Shelby’s eyes locked on her, and Morgan’s breath caught. Her eyes flashed like sapphires catching the sunset and her lips curved up tantalizingly slowly. It should be illegal to have that sort of sexy, captivating confidence. “You’d understand if you’d had Sarah’s Empanadas.” Shelby’s voice was low, almost sultry, almost like she was flirting, which was ridiculous. Shelby didn’t have any more interest in Morgan than Morgan had in her.
Still, Morgan couldn’t help test how far Shelby would take this. “I’ll have to give them a try.” Morgan matched Shelby’s tone.
“Maybe I should invite you over to give you a taste.”
Morgan’s blood thundered in her ears. Had Shelby really said that? Had she meant it the way she made it sound? Because it definitely sounded suggestive.
“I’m surprised you would want to spend more time with me after this,” Morgan said.
“Actually, I’m enjoying our time together very much.” Shelby’s lips curled up at the corners and there was a hint of color in her cheeks that hadn’t been there before. “Are you enjoying it?”
Morgan’s stomach did a funny little lurch, and it was possible her hands were sweating in her lap. What was going on here? Shelby couldn’t really be enjoying this, could she? For a moment Morgan was sure it wasn’t possible, but then she realized she was, in fact, enjoying herself. Flirting aside, she was having a great time reading and relaxing and she was definitely happy she wasn’t here alone, but it wasn’t just not being alone. It was being here with Shelby. Especially flirty Shelby.
She shouldn’t enjoy that. There was no way Shelby really wanted her. And her own physical reactions didn’t mean anything. She was stuck alone with nothing to do with an objectively gorgeous woman. Of course, her mind went to places it shouldn’t. Boredom led to lust for a lot of people, and that was all this was. Without the cabin fever element, Shelby would never think twice about her and her own stomach would be thoroughly un-butterflied.
The question had hung between them too long unanswered, but Morgan didn’t trust her voice. She nodded and Shelby’s smile turned from seductive to wide and friendly in a heartbeat.
“Glad to hear it,” Shelby said.
Shelby turned her attention back to the puzzle and Morgan finally released her breath. Her body settled down and she congratulated herself on correctly reading the situation. It was just a teasing exchange, nothing she needed to further analyze.
“I’m more of a cat person than a dog person,” Shelby said. “But I wouldn’t mind a dog who could win me some cash in a poker game.”
Morgan laughed unsteadily, but she was starting to get herself under control. “My luck I’d adopt the Labrador who’s all in on a pair of sixes.”
“You do have pretty rotten luck.”
“My mom always said better bad luck than none at all.”
“My grandmother said that, too,” Shelby said. “But I think she’d sing a different tune if the family dog blew her paycheck on poker games.”
They joked and chatted as the sun slowly sank outside, and Morgan welcomed the distraction from her body’s confusing reactions to Shelby.
* * *
On Tuesday morning, Morgan started pacing the cabin as soon as they finished breakfast. Shelby washed the dishes and inventoried the pantry just so she could distract herself from Morgan’s frenetic energy.
Unfortunately, the dishes were clean long before Morgan’s anxiety waned. In fact, as the morning wore on, it seemed like her energy only got more frantic. By ten o’clock, the pacing was setting Shelby’s teeth on edge. When Morgan marched into the kitchen for the fifth time to pull the curtain aside and look out into the woods, Shelby’d had enough.
“Will you please relax?” Shelby slapped her book on the coffee table to emphasize the demand.
“Relax?” Morgan’s voice went to falsetto, sending another spike of annoyance through Shelby’s nerves. “How am I supposed to relax when we’ve been stuck here for four days?”
“It hasn’t been four full days.”
“Fine. Three and a half. Does that make you feel better?”
“I would feel better if you relax,” Shelby said. She knew it was a bad idea to tell anyone, particularly someone who was stressed, to relax, but she couldn’t help it. Her fretting wasn’t helping. In fact, it was making the whole situation ten times worse.
“I would feel better if I could get out of here, so I guess we’ll both be disappointed.” Morgan stormed out onto the deck, slamming the front door behind her.
“I guess I deserve that,” Shelby said to the empty living room.
But honestly, it was just too annoying for Morgan to freak out like this. Sure, the situation was bad and probably getting worse with each day they were trapped, but panicking wasn’t going to help them. They had to remain calm or they’d do something stupid and that could lead to a real disaster. They had a roof over their head, a heat source, and food. Things could be a lot worse.
To Shelby’s annoyance, the creak of the porch floorboards proved that Morgan hadn’t stopped her pacing, she’d just taken it outside. Shelby knew she was looking for someone to rescue them, as though her presence on the porch would somehow make that more likely. As though they had any power in this situation at all.
Now Shelby was freaking out just as bad as Morgan, so she hopped up off the couch and went into the kitchen. Preparing food had always done wonders in calming her down, and today was no different. The moment she set about making them a snack of peanuts, raisins, and oyster crackers, her nerves settled. She was able to stop focusing on the sounds of Morgan futzing around outside as she turned her attention to boiling water for tea.
Morgan came back into the cabin. “I don’t hear or see anything.”
Shelby bit back her sarcastic comment and continued making their snack. Soon she could hear Morgan settling more firewood into the rack by the hearth. She’d almost thought Morgan had taken the hint, but then Morgan continued, her voice still unnaturally high.
“I’m worried the car is buried in the snow. I think I should go uncover it and maybe walk down the road a bit to see if I can find help.”
An icy hand of fear gripped Shelby’s heart. There were so many ways that could go terribly wrong it was laughable to even consider it.
“That’s a really bad idea, Morgan.”
“You have a better idea?” Morgan glared at her across the counter.
“Yes, we stay inside where we’re safe until rescue comes.”
“But if they can’t see the car, it will never come.”
Now she was just being ridiculous. “The snow will melt eventually and they know we’re missing by now. We just have to be patient.”
“For how long?” Morgan was shouting now, setting Shelby’s teeth right back on edge.
“For as long as it takes.” Shelby tried not to shout, but Morgan was being so difficult it was hard to contain her anger. “Your coat isn’t thick enough to be outside that long and you don’t have the right shoes.”
“There’s a pair of rain boots in the utility room.”
“They’re way too big for you. It wouldn’t be safe to climb the hill at the crash site in those.” Shelby took a deep breath, but it wasn’t helping. She tried to be calm. “Be reasonable, please.”
“How is it reasonable to just sit here all fucking winter, waiting for people who don’t know we’re here?”
“You’re just being impatient. Calm down before you make everything worse.”
The silence that followed those words was deafening. She could actually see Morgan puffing up with anger. If she was honest, Shelby knew why Morgan was angry and even agreed it was a rude and dismissive thing to say, but she was well past caring what Morgan thought right now.
