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She swiped her lips with her napkin and cleared her throat. “Yes, my company transferred me to the Chicago office.”
“What do you do for a living?” Maria asked.
“I’m a financial advisor for corporations.”
“That sounds exciting,” Maria replied. “I take it your family doesn’t live around here.”
“No, they don’t. My parents retired to Florida several years ago. I don’t see them very often. Right now, I think they’re somewhere in Europe on vacation,” Elizabeth offered as she picked up her fork and filled it with mashed potatoes.
“Well, we’re happy you could join us. It’s a bummer to have to spend a holiday alone,” Maria said with a welcoming smile.
Elizabeth flashed a half-smile and shrugged. “I’m used to spending the holidays alone. In fact, I don’t think I’ve spent a holiday with my parents since I left for college.”
Elizabeth felt Joe’s gaze on her and glanced in his direction. He sat silent, just looking at her. His gaze full of pity, but why? Why would he feel sorry for her?
After everyone finished eating, the kids returned to their fun and games outside, the men retired to the living room to watch football, and the ladies cleaned up the dining room and kitchen. Elizabeth dried the dishes as she listened to the women chat as they worked. Most of the conversation in the kitchen revolved around the kids, Joe’s two, Nick’s two, and Angelina’s three. She kept wondering how it was that the women seemed so happy and fulfilled when they were just stay-at-home moms. She couldn’t imagine life without her career, and she couldn’t understand how devoting one’s life to caring for a husband and family was satisfying.
When they finished in the kitchen, they joined the men in the living room. Elizabeth had just sat down when the most awful sound she’d ever heard penetrated her eardrum. She grimaced in pain as if someone had plunged a knife into her ear. “What is that?”
Joe’s sister sprang to her feet. “Oh, that’s just the baby. He’s up from his nap.”
Angelina disappeared down the hall and returned with an infant in her arms. She handed the infant to her husband, Jim, and headed for the kitchen. The second she was out of sight, baby Jeffrey began to wail even louder than before.
Elizabeth couldn’t believe the quantity and volume of noise being generated by such a small human being, and she was amazed by the fact she seemed to be the only one that noticed. She shifted her gaze toward Joe and caught his attention. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and his eyes seemed to smile.
The moment Angelina returned with a bottle and scooped Jeffrey up into her arms, the wailing ceased. She returned to her seat next to Elizabeth on the couch and fed Jeffrey, who drained the bottle in no time. Elizabeth continued to watch the baby as his mother slung him over her shoulder and patted his back. It didn’t take long for him to burp.
The curdled milk odor was horrendously nauseating. Elizabeth’s stomach rolled like a tugboat motoring through ten-foot seas. All at once, Jeffrey burped again, but this time the entire contents of his stomach came out with the belch, spraying directly onto her shoulder, seeping through her silk blouse, and saturating her shoulder and arm. Her eyes and mouth watered copiously, and she gagged. She sprang to her feet, sprinted toward the kitchen, and hurled just as she reached the sink.
She stood in front of the basin, resting her elbows on the counter for support while holding her head in her hands. Sweat beaded on her upper lip and temples. Her stomach continued to roll. She wasn’t quite sure if she was done yet. Her fire-hot cheeks were an ugly reminder that Joe’s entire family just heard her puke into the kitchen sink. Perhaps her face would explode and put her out of her misery. She contemplated ways she could escape from the house without anyone seeing her. No good ideas surfaced.
The stinking dampness on her shoulder was enough to start her gagging again. Her concentrated effort to breathe through her mouth, rather than her nose, helped to curb her gag reflex.
Within moments, another’s presence filled the room. She didn’t want to turn around to see who it was; she wanted nothing more than to disappear.
“Are you going to be okay,” Joe asked in the most concerned and sensitive tone she’d ever heard coming out of a man.
“I think so, but there’s puke on my shoulder I can’t think about it or look at it without gagging. I really need to get it off me,” Elizabeth whispered as she drew in slow, deep breaths in an effort to calm herself. Unfortunately, the acidic bile scent stung her nostrils, causing more havoc with her unsettled stomach.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Still bowed over the sink, she reached for the faucet and did what she could to rinse the basin out before the stench and sight of it sent her over the edge again.
A minute later, Joe returned. “Here put this on,” he said as he slipped a sweatshirt in front of her as she still leaned over the sink.
Elizabeth removed her head from her hands and attempted to take the garment from him, but as she stood, her puke-infested shirt fell back onto her skin and stuck like glue, making her gag even worse than before. She grabbed the sweatshirt from him and buried her face in it so she wouldn’t have to smell the stench from her shirt, and then she leaned back over the sink. “I can’t do it. I just can’t,” she muttered through the sweatshirt.
“Can’t do what?”
“I can’t take my nose out of the sweatshirt and I can’t stand up straight. I have to keep leaning forward so my shirt doesn’t cling to my shoulder and chest. I’m going to pass out if I have to smell that awful odor or touch the puke.”
Several beats of excruciating silence passed before Joe expelled a breath. “Let me go get Maria and see if she can help you change.”
“No, you can’t. I’m too embarrassed. I don’t want anyone to see me like this.” Tears seeped from her eyes saturating the sweatshirt.
“Well, what do you want to do? You can’t stand here like this all night.”
“Just get this blouse off of me. I don’t care if you have to cut it off. I need it off me,” Elizabeth said as she buried her head even deeper into the sweatshirt.
