Return of the Dixie Deb by Nina Barrett

before.
    “I think…” She tilted her head back.
    “What’s that, Jan?”
    “I think you need dessert, Mac.”
    Her hands, surprisingly strong, pulled his face down to hers as she fell back onto the bed.

Chapter Seven
    The mound of blankets in front of the fireplace was making noise. She stared at it through narrowed eyes.
    Sound and movement, the pile was rising and falling as if alive. It reminded her of something. She closed her eyes to block out the sun pouring through an eastern window and tried to think.
    While it wasn’t as loud as the drumbeat in her head, the noise was persistent. It was hard to concentrate with what was going on between her temples. It sounded like…like a hibernating bear from one of those PBS nature shows she used to watch with her dad.
    The sound changed. It was different now. A long rumble, like an inhale and exhale and something moving.
    She opened her eyes. The mound had shifted revealing her partner in crime. Mac was dressed in the gray sweatpants and T-shirt he usually wore at night. He was lying now in a heap of pillows and a coverlet. It looked like he had stripped the cushions from the loveseat and armchairs to make a bed on the floor. He inhaled audibly, rubbed his face, and pulled the blanket up around him.
    Great, so he couldn’t tough out one more night with her as a bedmate. The floor must have been more appealing than a double bed with her. Another man fleeing her bed. So much for her ego, not to mention any daydreams she’d had about him.
    She drew a breath. The effort set her fragile temples vibrating. Would there be aspirin or something in the bathroom? She didn’t remember bringing any along. She edged a foot out toward the floor.
    Taking tiny steps, she made her way around the makeshift bed on the floor. Mac was lying on his back now, dead to the world. Her bare feet made no noise as she shuffled past.
    She closed the bathroom door and braced herself against the sink, raising her head to look at the mirror. She was still wearing her yellow dress from the night before. She’d grabbed it out of her closet in Cartersville when she had gone back to pack for their trip. It had been part of her anticipated honeymoon trousseau, another expense still on her credit card. The bright color hurt her eyes. Sleeping in it hadn’t done anything for it.
    How tired had she been last night? It wasn’t like they’d done all that much. She remembered sitting by the pool in the afternoon, kicking Mac with water as he sat under the patio umbrella with a book on local history. Afterwards, they’d gone upstairs to the room to change. Then everything got hazy.
    She opened her eyes again. Her mouth tasted like medicine. Maybe she was coming down with the flu. Great timing . They had something or other scheduled for today. Something important if she could just recall what it was.
    Mac’s travel kit was on the back of the toilet. He wouldn’t mind her borrowing something considering she felt like she was dying. Or wished she’d just be put out of her misery. She gritted her teeth at the noise of the zipper and opened it. There was a personal size bottle of mouthwash. She shivered at the smell, steeled herself, and tipped it on end.
    Sixty seconds, was that was they recommended? She shut her eyes and counted.
    Spitting it out, she grabbed the hand towel to scrub the fuzz on her teeth. Now for painkillers. She dug in the bag finding dental floss, shampoo, razor, razor blades, but no pills. Dang . She opened the side compartment.
    Yes, a foil package of pain medication. She tore an opening with her teeth, extracted two tablets, and cupped her hand under the faucet.
    She swallowed. Good enough. She’d buy more for him when she had the chance. This was a medical emergency. It wouldn’t have been easy explaining an unconscious body in the Rosebud Room to Miss Lily.
    She picked up the travel kit to close it. A square white corner protruded from a side compartment. Straightening up, she