"I'm so sorry." Sal blew his nose once more. He could barely speak. As soon as Tess and Molly got the flannel sheets on the bed at Puck's, he plopped in the middle of it. He had the worse cough ever. "I want to make it up to you. Some how. Just not right now."
It was true he was good for nothing. A lot of stuff was still at the apartment. His stuff. Actually. He just couldn't part with all the toys and records he'd accumulated over the last few years. Kramer promised he'd store all of it for him. It was waiting for him to pick up.
His cell buzzed then and he saw it was his brother, Kramer.
"What?" Sal snorted.
"I'm at the hospital with Michelle." Kramer told him she was having contractions.
"So." Sal croaked and rubbed his nose red with a tissue. "When can you get my stuff?" They needed to out of the apartment, like yesterday. More snow was on the way. No one wanted to get out in this frigid mess. His left eye twitched. Really, his eyes were red and yucky. When he coughed, it made his head hurt.
"You sound really bad Salvador." Kramer informed him.
"Why do you call me that?" He winced hard and tried to swallow back the mucus in his throat. He never got called that, even if it were his given name. His mother had named him after the only man she'd ever adored. Of course, she was 14 then and obviously the guy didn't even know she existed. But she claimed he taught her the Mexican two-step. Why this story came to him now? He did not know. As it was he watched Molly move boxes, and when she bent over, naturally something took over that had nothing to do with the story his mother told about how he came about his name.
A slight smile curled his even lips. Oh, he was never to sick for one thing. He coughed really hard then. Maybe if he took some NyQuil, all would be good. Hopefully, she'd just leave those boxes alone. He clicked off the phone. Sal really wasn't concerned if Michelle had her baby or not.