Chapter Nine
8 JUNE, 2020
Co. Wicklow, IE
POSITIVE COVID-19 CASES: 25,207 CASES
DEATHS: 1,683
Andrew wrapped his towel tighter around himself as he shivered from the cold. The sun had just come up over the horizon, bathing the beach in gold. Water droplets ran down his face from his hair and he felt his teeth beginning to chatter. Despite summer being in full swing, the ocean hadn't gotten any warmth.
"Alright, Andrew?" Pat called from a few feet away, toweling himself off.
Andrew nodded and sniffled. "Yeah, grand."
He reached for his t-shirt and pulled it over his head, following it with a jumper. Then he successfully completed the ever-risky towel change and tugged his boxers and trousers up his legs whilst kicking his swimming trunks to the side. Sand stuck to the bottoms of his feet, but he sat on his towel and rubbed them off before putting his socks and shoes on.
"I keep hopin' it'll get warmer," Teddy said, shivering nearby. "I'm always so shocked when it never is. Dunno why."
"Probably because you're an idiot, Teddy," Connor called as he tugged his own jumper over his head. "The sea is never warm. That's just how it is."
Andrew smiled as his friends continued to dress. "Leave him be with his delusions, Connor. Its not nice to kick a man when he's down." He stood and wiped sand off his backside before slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "Right, lads, I'm off. Same time tomorrow?" he asked.
After getting a round of affirmative responses, he began the hike back to his car in the car park. As he walked, he continued to towel-dry his hair, shaking water out of his ears. He tossed the wet towel and his bag into the boot and then climbed into the driver's seat, cranking the heat as the car warmed up. He rubbed his hands together in front of the air vent, relaxing a bit as he felt them begin to thaw out.
Since the first restrictions began lifting, he'd been meeting his friends almost every morning before sunrise for a swim in the sea. The water was bracingly cold and stripped any oxygen from his system the second he touched it, but it was refreshing. It cleared his mind of the chaos around the world and forced him to focus on that moment, breathing in and out, fighting the part of his brain that screamed in discomfort as he waded into the frigid waves.
It was one of the few ways he got to see his friends these days. He didn't want to go to their houses in case he needed to go help his parents out or something, so public spaces were the only choice. The beaches were typically empty in the early mornings, so it was the safest option. Plus, he just enjoyed starting his days with a plunge into the sea. No matter how much touring he did, there was always something so comforting and relaxing about the sea. After the first few days, he hardly noticed the chill. When his fingers were mobile again, he put the SUV in Drive and headed for his favorite coffee shop.
"Morning, Andrew!" James, the owner said from behind the glass partition at the ordering window. "How was the sea?"
"Ah, you know. Cold," Andrew answered with a chuckle. He adjusted the mask over his nose and shoved his wet hair back from his face.
"The usual?" James asked.
"You know me so well," Andrew said, pulling his wallet out.
He paid and took his coffee when James slid it across the counter. There were a few tables set up on the nearby patio and he sat at one, lowering his mask to take a drink. He sighed as the warmth from the hot coffee spread through his body, sliding down his throat, passing his lungs, and settling into his stomach. The coldness of the sea always made him appreciate the warmth that followed.
Andrew checked his phone and frowned. It had been three days since Cassie had last spoken with him. He didn't exactly expect a daily report or anything, but they'd developed a routine and not hearing from her for so long was abnormal. He tugged a hat from his jacket pocket and pulled it over his head as he thought back to their recent conversations.
She hadn't mentioned anything about being too busy to chat. When she hadn't responded to his text three days ago, he just assumed chaos had taken over with Finn and she was busy or that she was stuck in a creative rush and wasn't looking at her phone. When he'd phoned her the next day and she didn't answer, he assumed she didn't have her mobile on her and just missed the call. But when she didn't phone him back, he began to get concerned. It wasn't like her to not respond in some form or another for this long.
Life's returning to normal, he reminded himself. Maybe she just doesn't have time to chat with you all the time now?
There was a point to that. They'd met when the world was shutting down and nothing was normal. Now that things were reopening around the country and there was a light at the end of the tunnel - especially with the country moving into Phase Two - it was very possible she just didn't have time to talk every single day.
She'd still send you a text or return a phone call, he thought.
He shook his head and opened her Instagram account. There hadn't been any new posts for several days. It was a big contrast from her almost-daily posts in the weeks and months beforehand. The last post was a video filmed in her office discussing a writing workshop she was promoting.
Something wasn't right, but he pushed the feeling down as he took another sip. He wondered briefly if he'd driven her away when he'd kissed her. She had said everything was fine, but when he invited her to stay with him, he promised her there were no expectations. And then he fucked it up like a goddamned lunatic and kissed her. It probably made her think she did owe him.
If you'd scared her away, why has she been talking with you nearly every single day since she left? he asked himself.
If it was true that he'd scared her off, it made no sense that she would keep talking with him, texting him, and sending him funny memes or Instagram posts periodically. She wouldn't continue to video chat with him and take his calls.
Andrew checked the time and took another sip from his cup. He debated whether he should phone again, but saw the time. Cassie was most productive at night. She'd hate being woken this early. No, he'd phone her in another hour or so when he got home.
He finished his coffee and gave James a wave on his way back to his car. Greystones was slowly coming back to life after weeks of being shut down. People were out walking and the streets had more cars on them than he'd seen in a long time. He actually had to slam on the brakes to keep from rear-ending a Toyota as it stopped suddenly at a crosswalk.
The sun had fully risen by the time he got home. He set about tidying up from his early morning adventure and hung his wet things over the patio furniture to dry out. The coffee had livened him up almost as much as the shock of cold from plunging into the sea, and he felt as though he could run a marathon. He did a load of washing up, began a load of laundry, and even got in some reading. He was three chapters in when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket.
Cassie's name flashed across the screen along with a photo he'd taken of a particularly delicious plate of pasta she'd made.
"Cassie? Hey," he greeted her, draping his book over his knee. He had to hold his phone away from his ear as she descended into a series of wet, rasping coughs. "Are you alright?"
"We're out of milk and Finn's got a big bear," she rasped out.
Alarm bells sounded in his mind and he sat up straighter. "What?"
"I want tea but I can't find the bags," she rambled. "And I think I saw an astronaut on the ceiling. The goats are walking. I fought a daffodil and lost."
If she didn't break out into another coughing fit, he'd have thought her ramblings were brought on by a drug high. He snapped his book shut and jumped off the sofa.
"Cassie, you're not making sense. What's going on?" he asked slowly. When she didn't answer, he felt his blood begin to rush. "Cassie?"
The line went silent and then dead and he stood in place for a solid two minutes, trying to sort through his thoughts. She'd sounded delirious - she had to be. She would never speak to him like that.
Maybe she's got it, he considered. She could be delirious with fever.
If she had COVID-19, where did that leave him? He couldn't very well help her from his house. But he couldn't just leave her and Finn alone. But if he went to her, he'd risk catching it himself. He wouldn't be able to help his parents out and he'd have to go into isolation for weeks, assuming he didn't manage to catch it from Cassie or Finn. Andrew inhaled slowly, looking around his front room. His mind raced with the possibilities.
He had to go, right? It was the right thing to do, the thing he'd do for his parents, his brother, or any of his friends. She needed him, clearly. If he didn't go, and something happened to her or Finn, he'd never forgive himself. But she didn't ask for help or invite him. This was different from the last time, when Cassie just needed an extra pair of hands to keep Finn entertained. This was a life-or-death situation. Surely she wouldn't care if he came to help her.
Fuck it, he thought. He couldn't just leave her there all alone.
He jumped into action, taking the book with him to his bedroom. He packed as much as he could in a few bags, choosing to bring his guitar and sampling set up as well. He had no idea how long he'd be stuck there and he wanted to be able to get some work done if he was able. He was halfway through loading his car up when a call from his brother came through.
"Hey, man. What's up?" Jon asked.
"Hey," Andrew replied, distracted. He heaved his suitcase into the boot with a grunt.
"Are you alright? You seem out of breath," his brother remarked.
"No - yeah, I'm just packing the car," Andrew said.
"Going somewhere?"
"Cassie's," he said simply, shutting the back of the car and walking around to the front. "I got this weird call from her a little while ago. She sounded bad."
"Man, you're not her fucking childminder," Jon said with a sigh. "Why are you going back there?"
"I'm positive she's sick, Jon," Andrew said with a sigh. "I hadn't heard from her for three days straight - which is odd for her. Then she phones me randomly, coughing and raving deliriously. Then she just hung up."
"Oh," his brother muttered. "You think she's got COVID?"
He sighed again and started his car. "I don't know. I hope not, but what can I do? Just leave her alone there and hope it gets better? She's got a child for fuck's sake."
"I mean, you're putting yourself at huge risk, Andy. Maybe you should phone an ambulance," Jon reasoned.
"The hospitals are not safe right now, Jon," he countered. "You heard what Paul said."
"Alright, do what you want," Jon said. "Just be careful. Wear a mask. Keep away from the plague rats. Clean everything."
"Yeah, yeah," Andrew replied. "Look, I don't want to wait any longer. I've got to go. Tell Mum where I am and see if she can pop in to check on things in a few days."
"Bullshit! Tell her yourself!"
"Fine," he groaned. "I'll message you with updates."
He ended the call and headed for the road. He had hoped Jon would tell their mother where he was, but he wasn't that lucky. Raine had become more protective of both of her sons since the pandemic began - understandably so. But Andrew knew how well she'd take him exposing himself to the virus and he'd rather avoid that lecture, if possible.
In all his time touring, his mother had never been overprotective; she'd encouraged him to take advantage of the opportunities to travel and see the world. When he was with Anuna, she'd practically shoved him on the tour bus the first time. His dad had been more emotional about him going off on tour for his first album.
But now, even with him a twenty minute drive down the road, his mother was more protective and cautious for him than ever before, reminding him to wash his hands and wear a mask and stay away from other people.
By the time he reached Cassie's building, the afternoon light was beginning to cast long shadows across the ground. He parked next to her SUV, surprised that the gate for the driveway was left open. He looked up at the side of the building, but all of the windows were covered and there were no signs of life anywhere.
Andrew vaguely recalled Cassie telling him she kept a spare key under one of the rocks near the back door so he spent the next five minutes trying to find it, emerging victorious after doing battle with a stone turtle. He opened the back door and called into the darkness.
"Cass?" his voice echoed down the long corridor. "Cassie? Its Andrew!"
He kicked his shoes off and padded to the staircase, tugging two masks up over his nose and mouth. He could hear the steamer from the café through the wall as he climbed to the next floor. He blinked rapidly, trying to force his eyes to adjust to the darkness.
"Cassie? Finn?" he called again. His voice was muffled from both masks.
He set his backpack on the floor at the top of the stairs and turned on the lights as he passed each switch. The entire floor was soon illuminated, revealing a kitchen with dishes piled in the sink and on the work tops. He nearly tripped over a laundry basket overflowing with soiled sheets that was sitting in front of the laundry room. He had to cover his nose at the smell of vomit coming off them. He opened the blinds over the windows, letting in the last few bursts of afternoon light. He heard the television playing softly on the next floor.
"Cass? Finn? Its me, Andrew!" he called as he went upstairs. "I thought I should come by and check in on you."
The light in the corridor was on, but the living room was empty. The channel was tuned to a children's show, but there were no signs that anyone had been in the room for a bit of time. Again, he opened the curtains and turned on lights.
Toys were strewn everywhere. Blankets were wadded up on the sofa and another basket of clothing was sat on the floor. The air smelled stale and he forced one of the windows open in an attempt to clear it out. A few of Finn's plastic bowls and plates littered the coffee table. It was obvious Cassie hadn't cleaned anything for the better part of two or three days. He turned off the TV and made a mental note to wipe everything down later.
He climbed the stairs to the fourth floor and paused on the top step. When he'd stayed here before, he'd mostly kept out of the fourth floor. Cassie had shown him the roof deck, but he felt like it was an invasion of her privacy to go poking about where she and Finn slept. He flipped the light on in the corridor and looked around.
Finn's room was empty, the door left ajar. The curtains in his room were open and dust motes floated in the beam of sunlight that slipped in between the buildings. The bed was messy and stuffed animals were spread across the floor. Several pairs of pajamas were wadded up in a corner near a clothing hamper bursting at the seams. Cassie's bedroom was at the end of the corridor and he knocked on the door. He pushed it open and stuck his head inside.
"Cass?" he asked. "Finn?"
He walked down the short corridor, past Cassie's walk-in closet and bathroom and the steps to get up to her office in the loft. He rounded the corner and saw two figures in the large bed under a mountain of blankets. Finn was huddled up against Cassie's chest, his flushed face barely visible from the nose down. Cassie was on her side with the blankets drawn up to her chin, her blonde hair scattered around her head in clumps. The only signs of life were the subtle rise and fall of the blankets.
"Cassie?" he said softly, nudging her carefully on what he hoped was her shoulder.
She stirred and her head turned slightly. Her eyes fluttered open. "Will?" she asked, her voice raspy in her throat.
Andrew shook his head and adjusted his masks again. "No. Its Andrew."
"What?"
"Relax, just relax," he told her. "Do you need anything?" he asked.
"Mmmmfff," she answered, turning her head away from him again.
He tucked the blankets around her tighter and tried to remember what he'd read in the paper about how to treat COVID at home. He noticed several glasses of stagnant water on the nightstand.
"I'm going to get you something to drink," he told her as he picked his way across the room carefully, trying to avoid the tissues littering the floor.
He managed to get a few sips of water down Cassie and Finn before they started coughing. Cassie kept calling him Will, which Andrew attributed to the blazing fever she was fighting. Finn was lethargic and barely took any water. Andrew wondered whether things were more serious than he knew.
After a phone call to his friend who was a doctor, he started them on a strict schedule of water every thirty minutes. In between that time, he set to tidying the house as best he could. By the time night fell, the sink was cleared of dishes, the laundry wasn't piled up, and he'd started in on the living room. He resisted the urge to sanitize every single thing in sight, but mostly because he didn't have time.
His stomach grumbled in hunger and he realized he hadn't eaten much all day. Cassie's cupboards were nearly bare and he obviously couldn't go to the shops now he'd been exposed, so he put in an order for delivery from the café around the corner. He'd sort out a longer term solution in the morning. Andrew ate quickly and then went to check on Cassie and Finn.
Cassie was awake and staring at the ceiling when he came in. He felt a small wave of relief wash over him that she was at least conscious and aware. She brightened slightly when she saw him.
"Andrew?" she asked in confusion. "I thought I was dreaming. You really are here."
He smiled, though he knew she couldn't see it. "You're dreaming of me? That's flattering."
She covered her mouth with a tissue as she coughed. He could see dark circles under her eyes and her skin looked pallid. "Don't make fun of me. I feel like shite."
"You look it, too," he said, sitting down in the chair next to her bed. "Here, you need to keep hydrating."
She took the mug he offered her, sniffed it and winced. "What the fuck?"
"Lucozade. It'll help hydrate you," he explained, taking it back from her. "At least, that's what my friend told me to give you. He's a GP."
Cassie looked at him dubiously, but took the mug back. She nudged Finn next to her and Andrew watched in silence as she managed to coax the toddler to drink several sips before he let out a cry of annoyance.
"Bug, Andrew's here. He got this for you. You need to drink more," she told him.
Finn perked up a little. "Andwew?" he asked, peering over Cassie's side.
His big eyes stood out in the angles of his face and his blonde curls were matted to his head with sweat.
"Hey, buddy," Andrew said softly. "How are you feeling?"
Finn sat up and took the mug, licking his dry lips as he took a noisy sip. He let out a satisfied sigh when he was finished. As though he'd been plugged into an outlet and fully recharged, he burst into sound.
"Andwew, you're siwwy," he said. "You wear a mask inside da house!"
"He has to wear it, Bug," Cassie said gently, wincing at the child's loud volume. "We're sick. If he doesn't wear a mask, he could catch what we have."
Finn grinned and brought his hand up to cover his mouth. "Ooops."
"I'm going to go get you something to eat," Andrew said standing. He held up his phone and indicated it to Cassie. "I'll text you."
She nodded and felt around on the night stand for her own phone. "Yeah."
Andrew was glad that things had improved so quickly. He managed to find a couple tins of vegetable soup and warmed them up. Cassie looked at it apprehensively when he set the bowl down on the night stand.
"I don't know if we'll be able to manage that," she said with a wince. Her hand went to her stomach.
"You need to eat something," he told her. "I don't know when you ate last, but you need to keep your strength up. You'll never get better otherwise." He nudged the bowl closer to her. "Especially Finn. My friend said he needs to be watched really carefully. He could go downhill quickly."
"Your friend?" she asked, shifting to sit up. "Come on, Bug. Sit up," she said to Finn.
"My friend who is a doctor. He's working in hospitals right now," Andrew explained. "He told me to make sure Finn doesn't get worse or you may have to bring him in. And to be honest, a hospital is the last place you'd want him to be right now, like."
Cassie sighed and nodded. She picked up the bowl and carefully brought it closer to her, making sure not to spill anything. Her fingers shook a bit as she took the spoon and picked up a few bits of noodle and some broth. She held it out for Finn.
"Bug, open up," she said gently. Finn wrinkled his nose. "Bug, you need to eat something."
"I don't want soup," he declared. "I want fish!"
"I don't think fish are a good idea right now," she told him. "Let's try the soup first and if you still feel okay, we can try some other things, alright?"
Andrew watched as she brought the spoon to her son's mouth and he allowed it past his lips. After a few spoonfuls, Cassie fed herself.
"Is that going to be enough or do you want more?" he asked her.
"Give me an hour and I'll let you know," she replied. An uncertain look passed over her face. "Maybe get a bucket, just in case."
He gave her a slight smile and stood. "I'll be downstairs," he said. "Let me know how it goes. I can bring more if you want."
She nodded and he left. He went down to the kitchen and washed his hands about four times. He knew he was exposed, but that didn't mean he couldn't do things to reduce his chances of catching COVID-19. He went through the house, throwing open windows to air the rooms out. The air was musty and stale and the cool summer night sent a fresh breeze through each window, rustling the curtains gently.
On his way back from taking the rubbish down to the bin, Andrew paused in front of a wall of photos. It was the same one he'd noticed the first time he came to Cassie's home weeks ago. She was smiling in her wedding dress with Will next to her, his large hand around her narrow waist. Will looked chiseled and fashionable, as though he'd fallen out of an Armani ad. They were a perfect, beautiful couple.
Cassie never spoke about Will's bad qualities. It irked him slightly and he didn't know why. Whenever she spoke about Will, she waxed poetic on how sweet and kind he was, how loving he was, how supportive he was. It almost made Andrew's stomach roll. It wasn't out of jealousy; Cassie was still firmly planted in the Friends section of his life and he had no problem keeping her there. It was more that he couldn't believe someone was that perfect. It wasn't possible. Even he had days when he had to resist the urge to slam someone's head into the wall out of frustration and anger.
Perhaps she was putting him on a pedestal and forgetting all of his negative qualities. People did that sometimes after someone died. When his grandfather died, his mum had completely forgotten the alcohol-soaked arguments and shouting matches that filled her childhood and instead focused in on the few moments of parenting the man did choose to participate in. Suddenly Anthony Kelly became a shining example of fatherhood who just happened to have a pint - or six - every night after work.
Andrew wanted to believe that Will was a lovely person, and he was sure the man was for the most part. Cassie wouldn't have married him if he wasn't. But to only ever hear all the ways that he was perfect sometimes set his teeth on edge. His brother's question floated back into his mind: why did he come back to help her?
The standard response he'd given everyone who asked was that she was his friend and obviously needed help. He had the ability to help and he didn't want her to be alone. He was doing it because he was a good person. But maybe...maybe there was more to it. Yes, she was alone, but maybe there was an element of him enjoying the feeling of her depending on him.
Andrew liked being needed. He liked knowing she relied on him enough to phone him when she needed help. Granted, childcare was far beyond his ken, but the feeling it brought, being needed, made his heart swell with importance.
With his line of work, people learned not to ask him to do things. He was atrocious with time management and always seemed to cock something up. It was a long-running joke with his friends and family that he ran on Andrew Standard Time, could never be relied upon for general things on a day-to-day basis, and he only shone in times of true crisis. Nobody expected him to rock up on time for a dinner reservation, but they all knew he was in their corner if they truly needed help.
It felt nice to be needed for once. In a world with so much uncertainty, it was nice to have someone depending on him. Isolation wasn't all it was cracked up to be when you literally had no other options. Seeing his friends for their morning swims boosted his spirits, but knowing most of them were going home to families or even housemates whilst he went back to an empty house was a small punch to the gut. The solitude he'd so desperately sought when he bought the property in the countryside wasn't as idyllic as he'd imagined it would be. He was spending too much time with his own thoughts.
With a sigh, Andrew turned away from the wall of photos and continued to the third floor, to Cassie's room. He pulled his masks from his pocket and put them over his nose and mouth before knocking on the door and opening it. The TV was running on a low volume and Cassie was sitting up in the bed with Finn asleep next to her. She ran her fingers through his golden curls absently.
"How are things?" he asked her, moving his eyes away from the toddler.
"Better, I think," Cassie said. "Well, I hope. No bucket needed - for now."
He stood a few paces away from the bed, arms crossed over his chest lightly. "Did you need anything else?"
"Probably not tonight," she replied. "I'm desperate for a shower, but it'll have to wait. I think if I tried to stand that long, I'd fall over," she gave him a slight smile.
"I could get a bath going, if you -," he offered, chucking his thumb over his shoulder.
"No, its fine, Andrew. Thank you, but its alright," she interrupted him. "You've already done enough. We'll be good until tomorrow morning."
He hesitated. "As long as you're sure."
She nodded. "We'll be fine. Really. Go relax."
Andrew dipped his head slightly and smiled before remembering she couldn't see it behind his masks. "Right - ehm, I'll be down in the guest room. Give us a shout if you need anything."
"Goodnight, Andrew," she said softly.
"Goodnight, Cass," he replied.
He spent the next thirty minutes under a near-to-boiling shower, obsessively scrubbing every inch of his skin that was exposed to the air. His forearms and hands were red and angry and he'd exfoliated at least four layers of skin off his face. The bathroom was so full of steam by the time he was done, it may as well have been a sauna. The night air of the bedroom rose goosebumps on his skin as he dressed hurriedly and rubbed a towel over his hair. The day's activities had drained him and he barely made it under the blankets before his eyes closed in exhaustion.
The next morning came sooner than Andrew would have liked. The sun shone brightly across his face and it took him several seconds to place himself among the strange surroundings. The sound of a rubbish lorry outside banging a skip up and down made him jump. He reached blindly for his phone on the nightstand and blinked several times as he tried to focus his eyes on the bright screen.
Three texts from his mother, a phone call from his friend Pat, and a reminder of his therapy appointment later in the day. He ran his hand over his face and sighed heavily as the last twenty-four hours came back to him. Cassie's phone call. The state he found her home in when he arrived. The way she and Finn looked, lying in her bed. Her voice as she called him her husband's name in delirium.
He responded to his mother's texts first, updating her on Cassie and Finn's conditions and assuring her that he was being as safe as he could be. She began typing a reply, but when the little bubbles continued bouncing after several minutes, so he clicked the screen dark and got up.
He dropped in on Cassie and Finn to see how they were faring and was pleasantly surprised to see them looking much better. He dropped off breakfast and started a bath before leaving again. It was strange to be in the same house, but not be able to spend more than a few minutes together. His friend assured him that the less exposure he had, the safer he'd be, and that as soon as Cassie could move around freely, he should stop going into her room at all and leave her meals outside her door instead.
More isolation.
Still, her isolation meant she was dependent on him yet again, and that gave him a bump in happiness.
He took his therapy call in his room, using his headphones. To be safe, he turned the TV on in the front room in an attempt to muffle his voice. It wasn't that he was embarrassed by being in therapy; it was more that he didn't want Cassie to hear the conversation that would surely revolve around her during the session. Sure enough, not ten minutes passed before she came up.
"So you're in Dublin now? At Cassie's?" Dr. Morrisey asked. "I thought you two were just friends. Did that change?"
"Oh - ehm, definitely not," he chuckled nervously. "I'm just helping her out until she's better. I'm sure she'll be glad to see the back of me as soon as she can."
"Can we discuss why you seem to constantly be running to help Cassie?" Debbie asked.
"I'm not running," Andrew protested, feeling his back rise up a bit. "She doesn't have anyone. She deserves to have someone helping her, especially right now with the year that we've had so far."
"That's what you said before, when you went to help," she reminded him. "That was your explanation when you invited her to come stay with you as well. Do you think there's more to all of this than just being a good friend?"
He looked away as he tried to iron out his thoughts. "I...I guess I just like being needed. I like...nobody ever asks me for things, you know?" he started. "I'm gone so much that people never ask me to help out. Or I'm too busy working when I'm home that I forget to do things or go to events. Nobody ever expects anything from me. Its just nice to have someone who needs me."
"What makes you think she needs you?"
He cleared his throat. "I mean, she's laid up in bed, barely able to move. I'd say she needs me, like."
"Is there any part of you that thinks perhaps this dependence on you is leading you away from friendship territory?" Dr. Morrisey asked.
Andrew paused. He hadn't considered that before. "I don't...I haven't thought about that, really."
"Think about it now," she suggested. "Because you're doing an awful lot for someone who you continue to maintain is merely a friend."
"She is, though," he insisted. "She hasn't shown a single bit of interest in anything but friendship, not even when I-," he caught himself. The kiss he'd planted on Cassie was something he'd neglected to share with Debbie, and he didn't plan on doing so anytime soon. He cleared his throat again. "Look, she called me her dead husband's name when I arrived yesterday. I'd say she'd still pretty focused on him. Even if I did have any interest in her like that, she's still locked in on him. Its pointless to even consider."
Debbie narrowed her eyes doubtfully, but didn't press on. "Has being around Cassie and Finn - and having this feeling of being needed - made you give any thought to finding a partner of your own?"
He inhaled long and deep before answering. "Maybe?" His fingers came to the back of his head and began their regular nervous scratching on his scalp. "Ehm...sort of. I guess? I just don't think now's the best time to be starting anything, you know? Bit hard to meet up and all."
"Restrictions are lifting as the summer goes on," she said. "Seems like a good time to begin putting yourself out there again."
"Finding someone isn't the challenge, Debbie," he told her with a sigh. "Its keeping them that's the issue. They don't understand the demands on my time. They can't deal with touring. They're too clingy when I need them to be distant and too distant when I need them to be clingy. It never works out."
"Perhaps it never works out because you haven't made a relationship a priority for yourself," she said.
"I can't do both, though," he insisted. "I can't focus on music and a relationship. One always ends up suffering. Its never fair to either one of us - me or her. Its just easier to keep things casual when I've the time."
"That seems like a very selfish way of looking at relationships, don't you think?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Maybe."
"I know you haven't had the best luck when it comes to your relationships, Andrew, but I don't think having such a selfish outlook is the way to change that luck," she replied.
"Every time I think I've found someone, things go tits up," he sighed. "She can't handle the attention from my fans, no matter how hard I try to keep her a secret, she can't handle me touring and being away for months on end, she can't deal with me disappearing to record or write. Or I cock it up somehow by - by being me. Its useless."
He hadn't been involved with anyone seriously since he got back from tour. There had been a brief two-month stint with a veterinarian's assistant called Laura before she was discovered by his fans and couldn't take the sudden attention. She ended it without giving him a chance to remedy things. He hadn't been planning their wedding or anything, but it was still a slight jog to his system to realize that something entirely out of his control could cause his partner to end things without warning.
"Maybe its not useless; maybe you're just looking for this person in the wrong place. I'm sure finding someone who understands the demands on your time and attention is difficult, but I'm positive there are women who grasp it," Debbie assured him. "Doctors, teachers, nurses - perhaps you just need to find someone with a similar demand for their time."
"Maybe," he mumbled.
As much as he enjoyed the solitude he'd built for working, the nights were often lonely and he found himself wishing for someone to keep him company. That was probably why he'd enjoyed having Cassie with him. The companionship was better than anything else, even if there wasn't a physical element.
"Can I ask...what draws you to Cassie, specifically? As a friend?" the doctor asked, shifting in her chair.
Andrew moved his phone to his other hand and shrugged again. "I like that she understands the time commitments and the media," he began. "Its nice to not have to explain how my fans could construe some mad story. She knows what its like to have the press literally rifling through her bins."
"Her husband was the footballer that was murdered, right?" she asked.
He nodded. "But even before that, she'd had several international best sellers. She just gets it, you know? None of my friends do. They slag me off so fucking much, its exhausting sometimes. I know they mean well, but it feels like they're judging me when they do it."
"Any other reasons?"
"Financially, she understands," he explained. "She knows what it feels like to have a load of money. She knows the guilt that can come with it when you see your friends struggling. She knows the feeling of wanting to fix everything with what she can give. She knows what it means to have money and still feel useless." He thought for a moment. "And I suppose Cassie had a rough childhood - like I did. Rougher, even. Her mum was in and out of hospital. She...she knows how it feels to have to grow up before you're ready to or to watch your other parent take on far more than they should have to."
"You two seem to have a great deal in common," she observed.
"Yeah...yeah, we do," he agreed.
"That's interesting," Dr. Morrisey mused. "As restrictions lift, do you see yourself spending a lot of time with her?"
"Maybe? I'm not sure. She...she's pretty busy on a regular basis from the sound of it," he said. "And I'm trying to get back into the studio by the end of the year. So I'm not really sure we'll be able to find time for each other."
"That's a shame," she said. "It sounds like she is a good person for you to spend time with. I've noticed a change in you since you began speaking about her. I hope it doesn't disappear when she's no longer a daily part of your life."
Their conversation drifted to other topics and by the time the session was over, he was in need of a nap. A text from Cassie drew his attention and he went up to see how she was doing. He was pleasantly surprised to see her in fresh clothing with wet hair. Finn was running around in his underwear, refusing to put any clothes on.
"You seem better," he observed, pushing his glasses up his nose. They fogged slightly as he spoke.
"The bath really helped," Cassie replied. "We must be on the ass end of the worst of it now."
"My friend said you were probably at the peak when I got here," Andrew suggested. "He said you'd know you were on the upswing when your temperature began falling back to normal." Finn raced past them with a shout, his arms waving about his head. "Looks like he's back to normal," he chuckled.
She shook her head. "Nah. He gets these bursts of energy when he's sick. Give him five minutes and he'll conk out again."
"I guess since you're up and about, I'll start leaving stuff in the corridor then," he told her, tucking his hands into his pockets.
"Y-yeah," she stammered in surprise. "I suppose that's probably safer for you."
"Yeah," he confirmed. "Probably."
"Christ, if I got you sick, your legions of fans would come for me with pitchforks and torches to burn me at the stake," she joked crossing her arms.
He smiled. "Wouldn't put it past some of the more feral ones, to be honest." He turned toward the door. "I'll get lunch started. Any requests?"
"Surprise us," she answered.
Later that evening, several hours after Andrew had left dinner for Cassie, he got a video call from her. He answered in confusion.
"Everything alright?" he asked. "Do you need anything?"
She smiled lightly. "No, just a bit bored. Finn's gone to sleep but I can't quite get up the stairs to my office to work yet. I thought we could chat, maybe?"
He smiled and sat back a bit on the sofa. "Sure, if you like."
"I feel like I owe you so much by now," she started. "You've come to my rescue twice now."
He smiled again, glad to be able to speak to her without a mask on. "Happy to help."
Her smile faltered slightly. "How did you even know to come?"
"You called me," he said simply. "Well, sort of. I think you were in the midst of a fever dream or something. You were muttering about fighting daffodils and astronauts on your ceiling."
"So not my usual ramblings," she tried to joke.
"No," he said with a soft smile. "Not your usual ramblings."
"Why do you do it?" she asked. "Come save me all the time?"
Andrew felt heat rising in his face. "I...I don't see it as saving you. You hardly need saving, Cass. You just...you just need help. I'm sure if you'd been here for a bit longer and had other people you could turn to, it would have been different. Just odd timing is all."
"Would you do this for all your friends?" she asked with a tilt of her head.
"Of course I would," Andrew replied. "You know, its funny - my friends and family have this joke: I can't be depended on on a daily basis, but you can count on me in a crisis."
"That's a horrible joke," she smirked. "Shouldn't it be the other way around?"
He shrugged. "I mean...they're not wrong, like. I'm chronically late to everything, but if you call me out of the blue, mumbling about goats, you get my attention." He winked playfully.
Cassie smiled. "When you're done playing Superman for me, what are you going to do?"
He inhaled deeply. "Ehm...I'm not sure."
"Didn't you say you had planned to go into the studio and start on the next album?" she reminded him.
"Yeah, I did, but things are different now," Andrew explained. "I can only really record in Ireland. And even if I could convince a producer to come here, I can't promote or tour the album once its complete. My biggest market is still completely shut down for touring."
"Oh, right," she scowled. "No point in recording anything if you can't do anything with it."
He nodded and sighed. "But I can't really complain. I planned to take this year off anyway, so at worse, its just a small delay at this point. Other artists and groups were in the middle of touring when they had to shut down." He scoffed and shook his head. "Ending those tours early must have cost millions."
"You got lucky, then," she chuckled.
"If you can call it that," he nodded. "You're in the same boat, though, aren't you? We're you supposed to promote a new book or something?"
She sighed heavily and looked away. "Yeah. To be honest, I'm sort of glad I didn't need to do the whole promo circus." She winced when she realized how her words sounded. "Does that make me a horrible person? To be glad this all happened?"
"Yes, but I won't tell anyone," he smiled.
"I mean, I didn't want to, like...be glad a pandemic came and millions of people died and all of that, but like...I honestly hate promo touring," she groaned, rubbing her eyes. "I hate having to leave Finn. I hate being away from my home. I hate sleeping in hotel beds and being rushed from one reading to the next. I don't know how the fuck you do it. I'm exhausted just thinking about it."
"Love, you've got COVID," he chuckled. "Of course you're exhausted. You weren't even capable of coherent thought yesterday."
"You know what I mean," her voice was muffled behind her knees as she drew them up to her chest and rested her forehead on them.
"I do," he leaned back and yawned. "Its OK to not like being away. I don't really mind it, I suppose. I like going new places, even if I only see them through a hotel or car window. I like trying the food, oddly enough, the smells."
"Smells? Really?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Each city has a slightly different smell. Some more pleasant than others, obviously. I like seeing the fans and seeing how far my music has reached. There was a time when I'd have been happy with reaching ten people. Now I'm reaching millions. Its...I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around it."
"I still can't believe anyone read my first book, let alone queues to buy my latest one when it drops," she said.
"We're both peddlers of absolute muck," he chuckled, running his hand through his hair.
"Complete and utter dog shit," she agreed, lifting her head. After a second of silence, she spoke again. "I thought I saw Will," she said. "When I was sick. It must've been a fever dream or something. He was stood next to the bed."
Andrew nodded and ducked his head. "That was probably me. You called me his name when I first got here."
"So it was a fever dream," she said. "Sorry about that." She scratched her eyebrow awkwardly.
He cleared his throat. "Its fine, really. I get it. No harm done." Another few moments passed in silence. He inhaled sharply. "So...ehm...when we get out of isolation and all that, will I still see you around?"
Cassie blinked and smiled. "Sure. Anytime you're in the city, feel free to crash here. Clearly you know where the spare key is," she chuckled.
His heart sank a little at her joke. He knew his question was vague, but he'd hoped that she'd say something more concrete. The idea of not seeing her again was making his chest tighten slightly. He forced an empty laugh and light smile.
"Yeah, thanks."
"Finn didn't stop talking about your pool for a week," she continued. "So I suppose we'll have to come by some time over the summer to use it. I'll never hear the end of it otherwise."
His heart jumped again and his chest loosened. "Yeah? You're welcome anytime."
She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. "Jesus, I never knew you could be this tired."
"Get some rest, Cass," he told her gently. "You need it. We can talk more tomorrow."
"Yeah," she gave him a sleepy smile. He saw the background change as she moved. "Night, Andrew."
"Night, Cass."