Falling in Love (Rockford Falls 5)

“Sign me up for an early bedtime,” I said, kissing her, “there’s no place I’d rather be.”

After she left and I got back to work, John texted to see if the coast was clear and sent three laughing emojis just to give me crap about it. At the end of the day, Greg called me.

“Hey, brother. I’m coming in this weekend for my twentieth reunion. I’m staying at Mom and Dad’s, but I want to get together with you. How’s everything going?”

“Everything’s fantastic,” I grinned.

“What are you so happy about?”

“Mainly being with Michelle.”

“That’s great. I’m glad you’re going for it. Bring her along when we hang out this weekend.”

“I’ll ask her to come. I’d really like that,” I said.

“See you Sunday?”

“Definitely.”

As soon as we hung up, I messaged Michelle and asked her if she’d like to go out with Greg and me on Sunday. She texted me a thumbs-up. I was so excited to show her off to Greg, to have my two favorite people in the same room. I couldn’t wait.

23

Michelle

It definitely wasn’t the tacos.

I’d been telling myself for two days that I had just gotten a touch of food poisoning from the taco truck in Overton. Trixie had taken Ashton to the pediatrician there and had brought back tacos for Nic and me. We had eaten at her house and the next morning I was sick as hell.

I had dialed Trixie’s number at six in the morning, moaning that she’d tried to kill me with subpar Mexican food from a dodgy vendor.

“It was probably not even beef. It was probably something else. Something gross. I feel terrible. How are you?”

“Me? I’m fine. Ashton slept in until five-thirty so it’s like a vacation for me,” she said sarcastically.

“Why won’t he sleep in?” I muttered.

“Because he’s a toddler. They hate sleep and love noise. It’s part of their nature. Are you sure it was the tacos?”

“It had to be. I didn’t eat anything else weird. I feel like I’ve been run over. I’ve been puking since five.”

“Has anybody who works at the library been sick? Maybe you just caught a stomach flu.”

“In June? Nobody gets the stomach flu in June. That’s a ruin-your-Christmas kind of event, not a summer thing.”

“Fine, argue with me. You need to hydrate. I have Pedialyte if you want me to run it over to you when Damon’s up. He worked late at the station so it’ll be a couple hours. I could bring Ash, but I really don’t want him to catch anything. Baby puke is hell to clean out of a car seat. And they always puke in the car seat. It’s like a law.”

“I’ll be okay. I’ve just got to drag myself up and shower. Maybe take an antacid or something.”

“Good luck. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay, bye,” I had said.

That had been day one. I’d felt better as the day went on, just tired. I had stayed over at Drew’s that night, but started sweating and feeling queasy around three. I crept to the bathroom and got very sick for so long that I fell asleep in the bathroom on the floor. When I heard his alarm go off, I’d hurried into the shower so it didn’t look like I puked myself into a coma in his bathroom. He’d just think I was an early riser. I had to do some fast talking to keep him from getting in the shower with me. I was barely keeping myself from throwing up again, and I really didn’t want him to watch me vomit or to, God forbid, try to kiss me.

I had told him that I thought some tacos upset my stomach and I really didn’t feel great, that I’d talk to him later. Then I left work early and went to my house. I didn’t see him that night. I didn’t even answer his calls. I messaged him that I had work to catch up on and I’d see him the next night. I had gone to sleep at eight o’clock on my couch and didn’t get up until I staggered to the kitchen sink to be sick around four thirty.

I was so exhausted from being sick, barely eating, that I had to drag myself around all day at work. It felt like I was trying to roll a boulder uphill the whole time. I made myself smile as I explained to an older man how to log on to the computer system. I helped patrons check out books. I encouraged Heather to go do the shelving and anything else that would have required me to get out of my chair. I drank Sprite and tried to keep myself together.

Nicole came to check on me at lunchtime, saying Trixie asked her to.

“I brought you something. Your favorite. Meatball sub!” she said, setting the greasy bag down in front of me on my desk. The smell hit me and I gagged. I clapped my hand over my mouth and ran for the bathroom. When I was done puking, I walked slowly back to my office, bracing myself for the stink of meat again. I knew I felt clammy and probably looked worse.