Page 93 of Ruthless Lullaby

Mindy

It's a lazy Sunday morning.

Last night I had a performance at New York High, my first one since leaving Maron's mansion. It felt strange to be back on that stage, singing for a crowd of strangers as if nothing had changed. But I powered through it, ignoring the empty feeling in my chest from knowing that Maron wasn’t there in the front row. No striking blue eyes watching me with an emotionless expression, despite the sexual turmoil that’s going on under the surface.

Kevin had organized a small gathering after my performance. It was a welcome distraction, a chance to temporarily forget about the emptiness that had been gnawing at me since I sent the goodbye message to Maron.

I roll over in bed, my body still heavy with the lingering effects of last night's event.

Kevin really outdid himself with the food. Every bite was like a party in my mouth. He even brought his new boyfriend along and introduced us to each other. The guy has this great personality that just lights up the room. Seeing them together, so happy and in love was amazing, but also bittersweet. Sure, I am happy for them, but I was also reminded of the love I walked away from.

Love?

Is that what you want to call it, Mindy?

You don’t even know what it was!

I shake off the thought and stretch, not even trying to suppress a big yawn. I'm feeling lazy, but maybe a shower would help. Followed by a coffee. And then a plan to start putting the pieces of my life together.

I sit up in bed, trying to fish out my flip-flops from under the bed, when a wave of nausea crashes over me. The hollow feeling in my stomach is all-consuming.

I stumble out of bed, my feet carrying me to the bathroom on pure instinct. By the time I reach the door, the feeling of nausea is overwhelming. I barely make it to the toilet before the contents of my stomach come rushing up. I grip the sides of the bowl and vomit violently into it.

"You okay, Mindy?" I hear Betty's voice from the kitchen, but I can't bring myself to respond. I slump down onto the toilet seat, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. The cold porcelain feels soothing against my skin.

What the hell is going on?

Maybe it’s the food from yesterday. I wasn’t exactly careful with what I ate.

I close my eyes and wish for the bathroom to stop spinning. When it finally does, I quickly discard my pajamas and turn on the water, eager to take a long, calming shower. But as the soothing, vanilla-scented body wash hits my skin, something feels off. I hate the smell of it. Which is strange because I always enjoyed its scent.

I wash myself clean, wrap myself in a robe, and head to the kitchen where Betty is puttering around in her pajamas. I'm greeted by the rich, pungent aroma of fresh coffee. My friend looks up and smiles as I walk in, but her expression quickly turns to one of concern.

"Mindy, are you okay? You look pale."

I open my mouth to answer, but an unexpected wave of nausea hits me again. This time it's like a freight train. The smell of the coffee, normally so comforting and inviting, is now unbearably strong, making my stomach churn and my head spin. I don’t even stand a chance.

I clap a hand over my mouth and make a beeline for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before I'm violently sick for the second time. I retch and heave, my stomach clenching painfully as I empty it into the bowl.

A soft hand gently rubs circles on my back, comforting me. "Mindy, are you alright?" Betty expresses concern. "Did you eat something that upset your stomach?"

"It must be the crab from last night," I gasp. "I never did well with seafood."

Betty launches into a barrage of questions, "Oh, so you went out to dinner last night? With whom? Did you make up with Maron?"

"Not with Maron,” I interject. “Kevin made seafood at the bar."

Betty looks confused. "Oh, Kevin, then. Damn, girl! There are more guys in your life than I can keep up with!"

I stifle a laugh. "It’s not like that, Bets. Kevin has a new boyfriend. And they're madly in love."

Betty's jaw drops, "Wait, seriously? Kevin is gay?"

"Yep, and he couldn't be happier.”

I suddenly retch again as my stomach twists violently, but nothing comes out this time. The bitter taste of bile still lingers in my mouth, and my body feels as weak as a newborn kitten.

"Come on, Mindy. Are you sure this is the seafood? We’ve had crabs many times and you never had this reaction."

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