Page 91 of Even After This
“I’m so sorry.” I take one tentative step into the room. “I don’t do vomit. Ever. It’s not one of my more attractive qualities. Steve’s and my marriage agreement stated if he puked, he was on his own. If the kids puked, they understood to go to their father.”
“All your qualities”—he moans—“are ... attractive.”
Nope. Flirting doesn’t work while the threat of vomit lingers.
I shift my right foot back, considering how to flee. “I can’t help it. Kim Sterling threw up on my head in the second grade.”
One side of Harlan’s mouth twitches, and he clutches his stomach. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“We were driving back from a Blue Birds campout. We got lost, and my mom pulled off the highway to look at a map. I was lying down on the back seat floorboard, and out of nowhere Kim says, ‘I think I have to...’ And then she did.All over my head.” I grab my hair and pull with each of the last four words.
Harlan’s laughter fights with his groans.
“Direct hit, Harlan. No exaggeration.” I point to my crazy hair. “With both of us screaming, my mother drove to a gas station to clean us up. She put my head under the sink faucet to try to—” I cover my mouth and shake my head.
“Okay.” Harlan clears his throat, causing me to jump back. He holds out a hand, palm forward. “Clearly this is tougher on you than it is on me. What did Penelope say?”
Bless his heart.
Balling my hands into fists, I step toward the bed. “We’re taking care of you. I texted a friend to pick up your prescriptions so I don’t have to leave you.”
I might be curled up in a comatose ball in the corner if hethrows up again, but by God, I will not abandon him in his time of need.
Harlan’s face softens, and he offers a jerky nod. “What happened to Kim Sterling?”
With my arms folded across my chest, I scowl. “The next day at school she spread a rumor that I didn’t wash my hair.”
“Stop.” Harlan coughs and throws a hand out to me. “Stop making me laugh.”
“Nothing funny about almost going to jail for murder. Which is what would have happened had she not moved away during the following Christmas break.”
“Meredith. Please.” His lips twitch in a miserable smile.
“Okay, honey.” I clutch a hand over my mouth and speak in muffled words. “Call if you need anything.”
While I walk to the kitchen, my phone buzzes with an incoming message from Claire. She’ll grab the meds and bring them to the house. In the meantime, I field calls from Penelope with new travel details, set up a tray for Harlan, and practice my deep breathing.
In the forty-five minutes between the text and when Claire arrives, poor Harlan makes three more trips to the bathroom.
And I make three trips to the laundry room to cover my ears, hum, and wait it out.
The doorbell rings, and I glance in the direction of Harlan’s room. “I got it, honey,” I call to him. Because he’s going to rise from the dead and welcome a guest? I shake my head. If he still wants to date me when this is all over, it’ll be a miracle.
When I swing the front door open, the sight of Claire makes me want to cry.
Dressed in her typical running gear, long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, she reaches out for a hug but stops midmotion. “Oh, Meredith.” Claire’s deep blue eyes grow big. “How bad is it?”
Claire. Childhood friend sitting in the front seat of my mom’s car when the incident happened. She knows. And she’s pulledme out of the Bad Place several times over the last few decades when vomit was in my vicinity.
Ridiculous tears fill my eyes. “It’s really bad.” I hope Harlan can’t pick up on my whisper.
Coughing and hacking float from the guest room into the entryway, and my body seizes up.
She grabs my hand and drags me outside. “Let’s ignore what’s happening in there.” She waves a hand toward the house.
I pull in a deep breath and nod.
“I don’t know who this Penelope person is, but by the time I got to the pharmacy, the entire order was packaged up, paid for, and ready to go. The clerk let on he wasn’t super happy to do a rush job on a holiday weekend, but it got done.” She holds out one large brown paper bag, stapled at the top, and one white plastic bag. “But I added a few survival things for you. Everything full of gluten, dairy, sugar, and preservatives just like you like them.”
