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I pushed the guilt aside, leaning toward the wall mirror, applying my red lipstick with precision.
Chapter 26
Lucy
Long Island
Business resumed asusual on the last day in Long Island. I poured myself into the job at hand. At least I tried to. I needed a little distraction, a little space to get my mind and heart back on track.
Currently, they were thick as thieves and that wasnotsomething I was accustomed to. But the effort was an utter failure, especially with Jake poised in front of me constantly.
By the time my lunch break came, I booked it to the nearest food vendor, hoping that getting something in my stomach would be enough to quell the uneasy feeling that sat there like a boulder.
Weaving in and out of people, the lines for all my favorites were so long, I glanced around somewhat frantic. I was hungry and thirsty and decided to settle on anything because it was better than nothing.
I almost missed it because there were so few people waiting, but around the corner from the hot dogs was a seafood vendor. It’d have to do. Spicy shrimp tacos didn’t sound too bad. Plus, I was on Long Island, it was sure to be fresh and delicious.
Less than five minutes later, I had consumed them, washing them down with a Sprite. The pit in my stomach was gone and I was wondering if it had been low blood sugar all along, not my crazy thoughts.
I needed to chill.
But like a gnat, my thoughts kept annoying me the rest of the work day.
When things wrappedup, I was grateful. You know when something comes over you and alters your entire mood and makes you feel off with zero chance of pinpointing what caused it? That’s what happened. And to add insult to injury, the last hour I had grown really hot, despite the AC in the building and the rest of the iced Sprite I drank.
The seat of the chair I was parked in was canvas, so at least I wouldn’t leave a sweaty ass print in it when I finally stood. But when I got to my feet, I had to hang on to the arm rest. Something wasn’t right and I knew I needed to get back to my room.
Jake and Rodney had been switched for the last session of the day, so I was happy that I didn’t have to make an excuse for my sudden departure.
Grabbing my bag and saying goodbye to the staff, I was hyper focused on navigating my way to the elevators, getting to my floor and finding the sanctuary of my room.
I tapped the screen on my phone to see what time it was. It illuminated, telling me it was ten past five.
There was also a voicemail notification, so I swiped up and listened. E canceled on me. With little energy to even call or text her back, I focused on the uneasy feeling that I was dreading.
I wasn’t sure if it was the motion from the elevator, but my stomach felt like it had been on the Tilt-a-Whirl. This wasn’t good. The elevator had been rather full, but when the doors opened, I pushed my way out and ran to my door, all while holding a protective hand over my middle, praying to all things holy that I could make it.
At least I had the foresight to grab my keycard on the way up. The digital lock beeped as I violently pushed my way inside. It was amazing planning that the bathroom was within a few feet of the door; I barely got the light switched on before I emptied the contents of my stomach.
And it wouldn’t be the last time.
A few yearsago, E and I had been bridesmaids in our cousin Mallory’s wedding. I was a little miffed because my standard gift for family was shooting the whole shindig and providing them with a leather-bound album.
But because I was roped into beinginthe wedding instead ofbehindit, I ended up dropping a lot of cash. And if the dress, bachelorette party, various little gifts here and there, reservations, drinks and other things weren’t enough, E insisted that we go in together on a wedding gift.
At the time, I thought it absolutely bonkers to spend almost eighty dollars on a single Hotel Collection bath towel, but to give a proper wedding gift, we had to buy “an entire set” as E put it. Anything less would be ridiculous and wewerefamily after all…
Stupid.
But you know what I came to find? Hotels had it figured out. The towels they carried were little sheets of fluffy clouds, accented in gentle loopy whisps.
And they made excellent makeshift bedding.
On a tiled bathroom floor.
Where I had been for God knew how long. A couple hours maybe? A few days? I don’t know, I just knew that I was more concerned with focusing on not vomiting after each round, than caring what time it was.
In between emptying my guts (seriously, how much more could be left?), I petted my towel pillow, using the motion to calm myself.
