Page 71 of Do It Yourself
Damnit, I knew I was putting too much pressure on her with work.
Why couldn’t I just do it all like our dad did?
I take a deep breath to start apologizing and making promises to take over whatever she needs me to when Mabel tilts her head up to face us, her tears are gone and her eyes look much more focused.
“I’m in love with Jude. We’ve been intimate since the family vacation and we officially got together after Elle’s wedding. I need to talk to Paul to figure out how to repair their relationship because I’m pretty sure Jude is the end game for me.”
Well, shit. This just got a lot more complicated.
My shock at Mabel’s confession is almost immediately overshadowed by Elle bursting into an evil cackle and announcing she “fucking knew it!”
Before I get the chance to process any of that, Elle demands Mabel starts from the top. She states we got front row seats to everything that happened between her and Patrick, so she deserves to know EVERYTHING.
So, Mabel does.
She tells us everything.
Some stuff I wish she wouldn’t have.
I don’t know how I’m going to get through a work day knowing that Jude ‘licks pussy like it’s his job’ or what happened not ten feet away from where I’m sitting now. My gaze flicks to the counter and I’m silently glad I put the food on her dining table.
“Okay, so the problem is Paul’s hatred of Jude?” Elle is scowling but I can tell it’s because she’s trying to think of a solution. “We need to figure this out. Let’s eat and brainstorm.”
“I’ll go dish up for us. You two start thinking.”
I hop up from my seat, still in a state of shock. I know my twin, but I don’t know how he’s going to react to any of this.
Paul loves his family, but he’s been known to hold a grudge. I’ve never seen him as angry as he’s been with Jude.
Once the plates are loaded, I walk back over to my sisters. “If he doesn’t get over it, I’ll just sit on him until he forgives Jude. Or I’ll teach Henry some swear words. Maybe both.”
Mabel starts to chuckle but it dies as she takes the plate of food from my hand. The blood drains from her face and before I can ask what could be wrong, she’s shoving the plate of food back into my arms and running to the hallway.
My eyes meet Elle’s, they widen in shock as sounds of retching echo off of tile. “Oh shit!” Elle stands, swearing up a storm, and moves to the kitchen. She puts her plate on the counter and hurries to the bathroom.
I put down my own plate and follow after her. Maybe I’ll just skip dinner tonight.
When I join Elle and Mabel in the bathroom, Mabel is thankfully no longer throwing up. Her head is resting against the toilet tank, eyes closed and a worrying green tint to her skin.
Elle kneels down next to Mabel, dabbing her forehead with a wet wash cloth. She lets out a small moan. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. You handed me that plate and it was like you were handing me a plate of hot garbage.” She gags as she utters ‘plate of hot garbage’ and I have to fight my own gag reflex.
I’m a sympathy spewer.
“Oh shit, oh shit.” Elle’s back to swearing, worry fills my stomach with worms.
“What, Elle, do you think we need to take her to the hospital?”
Another groan from Mabel at that. “No, no hospital. I just want to go back to bed. I’m so tired.”
“I’m sorry, Mabel.” I squat down, joining the pair on the bathroom floor. Pulling Mabel into a hug, rubbing small circles at her back, I look over at Elle. She seems to know what’s going on and I wish she would share with the class.
“I don’t think we need to take her to the hospital but one of us might need to run to a pharmacy.” I’m more confused than ever and I make sure my face portrays that.
“No more riddles. Spit it out, Bubs.” Mabel cracks her eyes open to shoot Elle a glare. I’m impressed by the intensity she’s able to put behind it, given how terrible she obviously feels.
“Mabel, is there any chance you could be pregnant?”
Oh shit.
