About a half hour later, Pete and Tammy arrived for poker. “Hey kids!” Pete shouted. “Hey Ryan! Good to see you, man!”
“Hey Pete!” Ryan shook his hand. “How’s it going?”
“I brought some dessert,” Tammy giggled happily. She slid a tray of chocolate dipped something-or-others onto the bar. “I thought we might sample these - let me know if it would be something good to serve on Sunday for the party.”
I noticed the smug smile and wink she gave me when she thought no one else was looking.
“How’s it going?” Tammy asked quietly.
“Good, real good!” I said, even though at that very moment I was fighting off a wave of nausea.
“Did you have a good time up there?” she whispered in my ear.
I nodded and smiled. I didn’t intend to share any details with anyone. Our weekend was ours and ours alone and I wanted Ryan to know that I wouldn’t spill anything, even to my closest friends. Besides, he was watching me out of the corner of his eye.
I brought fresh mugs over to Ryan and Pete and poured them a beer from the pitcher.
“Thanks!” Ryan smiled when I set his glass in front of him. A stick of pain shot into my stomach, causing me to hunch and wince.
“So, Ryan, how were they biting up at the lake?” Pete asked while waiting with an open hand for the beer I was pouring for him.
“Good! We both caught a lot. Although Taryn caught the first one on both days.” He winked and quickly patted the back of my thigh.
“Yeah, but you still caught more than I did,” I added. I wanted to give him his fair due too.
I sat down in the chair next to Ryan and took a big sip of ginger ale. The slice of pizza that I ate was sitting in my stomach like a rock. I contemplated resting my head on the table for a moment.
“Not drinking tonight, Taryn?” Pete asked, pointing at my glass of soda.
I suddenly felt lightheaded. “No. I have a bit of an upset stomach.”
Ryan leaned over and whispered, “Are you okay? You feeling sick again?”
“I’m fine,” I lied, wincing from the new shot of pain that hit my abdomen.
“Were you sick?” Pete asked, questioning my condition.
I just stared at the table. I wasn’t going to say anything; besides I was feeling that I might be sick again – the saliva was pooling in my mouth.
Ryan patted my leg privately under the table and sighed.
“Both of us were really sick last night. We’re not sure what made us sick, but we definitely had food poisoning, that’s for sure!” he explained, gently rubbing my back.
“Excuse me, please,” I murmured, dashing for my stairs. I made it to my bathroom just in time to bring the pizza back up. My hands clenched the toilet seat as the stomach acid burned my throat.
“Taryn?” Ryan called out. “Are you all right?” I was brushing my teeth when he came around the corner. “Everything okay?”
I felt slightly dizzy when I motioned my reply. “No. I just got sick again. The pizza.”
“Why don’t you just cancel poker and go lay down? You’re not going to have any fun if you’re feeling lousy.” Ryan stepped into the bathroom and pressed his hand against my forehead. “It feels like you’re running a slight fever too.”
“I can’t cancel on them. Why don’t you just go down and play? Go have fun. Maybe I’ll come down later if I feel better.”
“No. I’m staying with you. I’ll be right back.” He was gone before I could even respond.
I went to my bedroom to change into comfy clothes. Resting on the couch sounded very appealing. Staying close to my bathroom was even more appealing. I had just pulled the quilt off the back of the couch and onto my lap when Ryan came back through my door.
“Pete called Marie and told her you weren’t feeling well,” Ryan said while thumbing through his cell phone. “We exchanged cell numbers. I have Marie’s number too. I told Pete I’d call him later to let him know how you’re doing.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I whispered. “All of you could have still played. I feel horrible for ruining your night and breaking Monday tradition.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We wouldn’t play without you. Here, I brought you a new glass of ginger ale. You should drink some water too. We’re both probably dehydrated.” He set the glass down on the table. “I really don’t need any beer in my stomach either.”
“Thank you,” I said sincerely. “I think you’re right about being dehydrated. That’s probably why I feel so achy. I should drink some water.” I pulled the quilt off my lap. “Would you like to see the rest of the place?”