Today was not a good day. She was so angry. Angry at Jim for dying, angry for everyone leaving her, angry at herself for being such an utter failure in life, angry at God or the Universe for, well, everything ( Read more... )

Lana put together a pot of chicken soup and let it simmer, but also made a macaroni and cheese casserole, figuring it would be easy on the stomach, as Dean hadn't seemed thrilled with the chicken soup idea. Once those things were going she had time to straighten up and do a little light cleaning. It was strange how the cottage just didn't feel ( Read more... )

Still with the sick and the fever and the coughing and the not getting out of bed. Today even tea or broth seemed like too much effort, so the bottle of water by the bed would have to do till later.

Lana was curled up in a chair in the corner of her bedroom, watching the stars through the window. She was still sick as a dog, but she'd managed to heat up a cup of broth and get herself upright at least for a little while. Neffie was purring in her lap and Lana wouldn't have been able to express just how soothing she found the kitten's presence ( Read more... )

Lana was home, not for moping purposes, but because she was honestly quite sick. She'd managed to get up and make a cup of hot tea in the morning and take some cold medicine, then had fallen asleep on the couch before she could make arrangements for the Leaf to be opened ( Read more... )

So, Lana hadn't exactly made it out of bed today except to feed Neffie. She'd grabbed herself some goldfish and a cup of tea, though, so it wasn't like she'd broken her promise about eating. Exactly.

She just... needed to not be or do anything for a little while.

Maybe tomorrow she'd get up. She was supposed to work ( Read more... )

Lana stood outside by her gardens staring at the cottage. A week and a half ago she'd sat on those steps and everything had changed - all the hopes and dreams she'd finally allowed herself to have had been shattered.

( She hadn't been back till now. )

Five days. It had been five days and no word. But, as Dean had said before, telephone service wasn't the most reliable in the jungles of South America and Jim certainly knew his way around the place.

Still, she was itchy enough to just need to do something. So she'd been aggressively weeding and cleaning out the flower beds at both houses all ( Read more... )

Lana sat out on her small porch with a pitcher of iced tea and Neffie sleeping on her lap. The cat hadn't wanted to be more than a few feet away from her since her return ( Read more... )

Lana had ventured outside her cottage for the first time since she and Jim and Dean had arrived back in Milieux. And she wasn't going far ( Read more... )