A cozy fire in the hearth crackled. Peach, pink, and tangerine, ribbons of light draped across Jared’s king sized comforter from his huge bow window. Vanilla sweetness of his award-winning night-blooming cerbeus plants scented his bedroom suite. Jared snorted himself awake. Face up he was starfished in a tangle of silkCracking open one eye, Jared groaned at the brightness. He could barely see for the gelatinous pus stretching in sticky strings on his eyelids. That was it, Jared decided that couldn’t possible face the day. He snuggled back into the warm pillow.

The door slid open and the smell of well roasted coffee and warm buttered croissants flooded his senses. His butler, Wednesday, laid a generous linen napkin over the mid-century occasional table and began setting up breakfast. Well I could get up to eat, Jared though. I hate crumbs in the bed but I am not leaving my room today. Not for anything Jared said to himself. Twisting gengerly in bed his legs landed on the floor with dissatifised cracks. Jared moaned into the artifical morning light.

“Good morning, Mr. Tate-Devereaux, it’s another beautiful day in paradise. Chef made us some wonderful things this morning, but I chose something light so not to over tax your system,” Wednesday said.

“I couldn’t bear anything heavy or greasy. The thought makes me light-headed. I tossed and turned all night,” Jared said shrugging into the robe Wednesay held for him .

Wednesday lent a firm arm to help Jared get on his feet. Heanswered with comforting “of course, of course,” as he poured Jared his coffee.

“I hope you like the custom rainbow I setup this morning instead of that trite clear blue sky from the HOA. It’s nice to shake things up, don’t you think, sir,” Wednesday said as he lifted the silver dome from a steaming plate of scrambled eggs, cucumber sugar beet salad, smoked salmon with fresh croissiants.

”No i did’n’t care for the rainbow, too bright, too much,” Jared said around a big mouthful of eggs. “What no bacon?”

“My apologies, sir, I’ll see to it. What do we have on the books today”?

Wednesday snapped his fingers and the warm colors blinked away to a standard blue. Jared tore one croissant asunder and dunked it in his coffee. With curt gestures, Wednesday adjust the brightness.

“I can’t today. I’m simply exhausted. I’m sure it’s my blood pressure or my blood sugar. Which one is the bad one, again?”

“Yes, it so important to keep your strength up. Don’t overdo,” Wednesday said. “The children drove to the school and Mrs. Devereaux was up at dawn to do her morning hike. The house is peaceful.”

Jared didn’t feel peaceful. His wife was eleven years his senior and obnoxiously healthy and vital. The thought of Gracie jog walking made him woozy. The butler was fluffing the sham pillows and turning up the bed. As a child Jared was delicate with a constant cough. In his teen years Jared became passionate over moto polo. With his family money and a solid team he was once a bright light. It was on the raceway he’s met Gracie. She loved his youth and vigor, or at least she used to. Now most of her time was spent on running the company and the children. Even though their boys were nearly grown there wasn’t much time for him.

Jared walked over to his mirror and frowned. His eyes were red. His joints all ached, which he was sure was an early sympthom of lukemia. With his ReJuven injections, Jared looked like a decent 35 year old or a rough 28. He still looked good, very good but it was all surface. His toned muscles were soft and meally. His tight tan skin sloughed aways Jared jiggled his stomachand checked out his ass. HummingWednesday laid out his clothing on the stand.

“Call Dr. Wen, see if I can push up my appointment to the top off my fillers. Then book an emergency appointment with Dr. Isaacson for this fatigue. I don’t care what anyone says this isn’t normal. I’m sure I’m coming down with something,” Jared wailed to the mirror. “And don’t thke no for an answer I pay too much to feel this sick all the time.”

The mirror called his primary care physican. Jared collapsed dramatically in his chair.

“Sir don’t forget you are lunching with Mrs. Devereaux at the Oombah. She invited you to the Flower Grower Association Dinner Planning blah blah blah,” Wednesday said.

The butler handed Jared an ivory cotton notecard with a scrawl from Gracie about this meeting and good PR. Jared leapt to his feet. She needed him. Wednesday held up a pair of summer suits.

“Pink or tangerine?"