“It never really took off ... it was kind of pathetic. The whole thing.”
First, James interrupts. “But ...”
And then Robbie is a super-duper interrupter when he proceeds to stand up and barf all over the table.
“Shite.” James hops up and grabs a green Robbie, carrying him under his armpits to the bathroom.
“Ugh, Andi. I’m so sorry.” Delia runs to the kitchen and starts grabbing paper towels, her ass in the air as she rummages under my sink. The whole ordeal is like a dream sequence.
“Gabby, why don’t you and Celia go watch TV on my bed.” I handle the easiest of tasks. I don’t have to twist their arms to leave the putrid smell and watch unsupervised TV.
“I’m so sorry,” I say to Reid. He’s still sitting in the dining room chair in a daze, his eyes glued on the Hanukkah candles.
“Did that just happen?” he mumbles, not looking at me.
“Yeah, it did. Kids. It’s an occupational hazard. You cook, and eight times out of ten, they’re likely to puke it up, either from running in circles or some nasty virus.”
He’s looking a little greenish, but he offers, “Can I help?”
Just then, violent barfing echoes from the bathroom.
“Um, no. Why don’t you go home, take a hot shower, and sit down with a good Scotch?”
A fine sheen of sweat lines his brow. I want to comfort him, but I can’t.
In a split second, all hell breaks loose.
James runs out into the living area, looking for washcloths. Gabby slams my bedroom door shut. And Delia is running her mouth.
“Oh shit,” Reid says.
What now?
He lunges toward the Hanukkah menorah and catches a candle as it leans and then topples in midair. In about two seconds, my place would have gone up in flames, but thanks to Reid, it’s in one piece.
“Wow, thanks.”
I feel so terrible for Reid. He looks downright miserable with hot wax stuck on his hand, and Robbie retching it in the background. We’re like a reality show in progress.
“It’s okay. Go, go. Get out while you can,” I tell him, and he doesn’t argue.
It could have been worse. The chaos successfully stops any more blog talk ... and prevents Gabby from getting further attached to Reid.
Except, when they both wake up with the stomach bug on Christmas Day and we can’t go to Lizzie’s like we’d planned, they’re forever bonded.
“Yoo-hoo!” Leona knocks on the door and calls to me.
“Shit.” I stand up from my computer and plod to the door. “Hey, Lee, don’t get too close. My nephew gave us all a present for Hanukkah and Christmas ... the stomach bug.”
“Oh, nonsense, my immune system is the best thing about me. All those years as a secretary, everyone sneezing and hacking on my desk, I don’t get sick. You know that.” She ignores my smelly, bulky robe and shabby appearance and walks right in.
I notice an animal carrier under her arm. “What’s that?”
“Oh, a gift for Gabby.” She sets it on the floor, her ass in the air, bright orange velour pants stretched over her goods.
“A what?”
Then I hear it ... a meow.
