Livin' Off Love

Chapter Twelve

   "You're late," Jennifer's mother said opening the door. "Everybody's already started eating."

   "That's all right. I'm not really hungry. Maybe I'll just have a beer," she said.

   "Jennifer, you know we don't allow alcohol in this house. What's wrong with you?" her mother asked.

   "It's a long story."

   "After dinner we can talk about it."

   "Maybe," Jennifer said.

   She walked to the dining room and hugged her father. There were greetings from her sister, her brothers and their families. She sat down and her mother handed her a bowl. The gumbo was passed to her. The sight of it made her queasy and when the full aroma drifted around her, her stomach turned. Jennifer quickly placed the tureen on the table. She closed her eyes but the nausea would not subside.

   "Excuse me," she said racing from the room.

   "What's wrong with her?" her older brother asked.

   "Maybe she's knocked-up," the youngest brother said amused by the prospect.

   "Impossible," her sister began. "She can't have children. At least that's what the doctors said. Remember all those tests."

   "That's right," the youngest acknowledged. "Must be the flu. Everyone's catching it."

   "I hope not. I've got too much going on to get sick," his wife stated.

   The conversation continued as Jennifer locked the bathroom door. Her stomach cramped but there was nothing to expel. She hadn't eaten since lunch the day before.

   "Honey, are you all right?" her mother asked through the door.

   "No, I feel like hell," she replied.

   "Open the door. Your room is just like you left it. I put clean sheets on your bed yesterday."

   "Mom I..." Her hand turned the lock as her head began to spin.

   She stepped back and watched the door open through a haze. Then things went dark. A cool rag wiped her face. There were voices around her. She tried to open her eyes. The haze was still there and the glare of the overhead light threatened to blind her. The voices grew louder. They were screaming in her head.

   "Stop yelling," she pleaded.

   "Baby, there's no one here but me and I didn't say a word," her mother said softly.

   Jennifer opened her eyes. She forced them to focus. The four walls around her were decorated in the fantasy mural she had painted years before. The sheets were cool against her bare legs. She tried to sit up. Again there was a swimming sensation in her mind.

   "Just lay back," her mother said. "Daddy called Dr. Jobert."

   "What happened?" she asked.

   "You passed out. Honey, have you been sick? I don't remember anything like this ever happening to you before."

   "No. In fact I've felt better than ever."

   "How about work? Have you been under any unusual pressure?"

   She thought back to the inspector but answered, "No."

   "Have you been... you know..."

   "Been what?" Jennifer asked unsure of exactly what her mother wanted to know.