“Ah, okay. Shall we go, then?”
I grab my purse. “Absolutely.” I pull the door closed behind me and make sure it’s locked before I lace my arm with his and walk down the driveway to his truck.
Thanks to Violet’s smart thinking I don’t have to completely avoid dairy. Not that I plan to consume it in copious quantities, just that sometimes they put whipping cream in the soups or to accent desserts and occasionally I enjoy those things.
Dinner is fabulous as usual. Sidney seems to know all the best restaurants in town. I order the butternut squash and pear soup as a starter and the scallops as my entrée, and we finish with the chocolate lava cake for dessert. The conversation is easy as it always seems to be, although our interests vary significantly. And maybe that’s why we get along so well. It’s easy to keep the conversation flowing when we can share our unique experiences.
Anticipation makes the tension between us flare and Sidney’s innocent brushes under the table are making me antsy to get home. I send Violet a text message asking how her night is going and get a quick reply:
Violet: At the movies now, don’t want to get in trouble for texting, talk ltr.
I send her a thumbs up and give Sidney a saucy grin. “My house is empty.”
He tosses his napkin on the table and signals the server.
Once the bill is paid, we rush to his truck. My stomach tightens in anticipation and I will myself to calm down. But that tightness in my stomach grows as we drive the short distance from the restaurant back to my house.
Sidney sets his hand palm up on the center console and I lace my fingers with his. “I’m excited to see your place.”
“I’m excited to get you into my bedroom.”
He chuckles. “I’m excited for that, too. It’s almost hard to believe it’s finally happening.”
“I know, right?” An unpleasant gurgle comes from my stomach, so I press my hand against it and feel the unsettling churn under my palm.
“Everything okay?” Sidney asks.
“Oh yeah, fine. Everything’s fine.” It’s probably just nerves and excitement.
But the closer we get to my house, the more noise my stomach makes and then the cramping begins. I can’t get my period. Not now. Not tonight.
“You’re sure you’re okay? You know if you’re not ready for me to come over that’s okay, Skye. We can take it as slowly as you want.”
“I’m really fine. Just nerves and anticipation I think.”
Suddenly, I break out in a cold sweat, and the cramps intensify. Thankfully, we’re almost at my place. I cross and uncross my legs. Then recross them again.
I don’t know what’s happening. I took lactose pills before dinner and the chocolate lava cake only had that dollop ofwhipped cream. I shouldn’t have a reaction. When I’m excited or anxious, my reaction is to word vomit and my palms sweat. But this is nothing like that.
As soon as we pull into the driveway, I slam my thumb down on the release and I’m out of the truck before Sidney even has it in park. Another cramp hits as I sprint for the front door, but I’m wearing heels and not tripping over my own feet is a challenge on a good day, let alone when I’m panicking. I’m pretty sure if I don’t make it to the bathroom in the next thirty seconds, bad things I won’t be able to recover from will happen, and I’ll never see Sidney again.
I drop my keys before I can get them into the lock.
Sidney stoops to pick them up before I can. “Take it easy, we have all night, Skye.”
I brace a hand on the door. “I really need to get inside.” I’m full body sweating now and my stomach cramps again, this time making me double over in pain. This is so bad. So, so bad.
Sidney frowns. “You look like you’re not feeling the best.”
“It’s nerves.” My stomach sounds like there’s a whole gaggle of angry beasts living inside it.
Sidney slides the key into the lock and it seems to take eleven million years to open the door. I rush down the hall. “Make yourself at home! I’ll be down in a couple of minutes.” I kick off my heels and take the stairs two at a time, invariably I trip and slide halfway back down, my chin bumping the carpet on the way. I clamber to my feet and make it to the bathroom just in time, slamming the door and turning on the fan, grateful it’s old and noisy.
I spend the next several minutes in a death spiral. I’m shaking and sweating and not even a little okay. And then the wave of brutal nausea hits me. It doesn’t make sense. Violet gave me two lactose pills and I didn’t gorge on cheese or cream. Unless the soup had cream in it. Which is entirely possible.I check the medicine cabinet and realize Violet may have accidentally given me the antacids instead of the lactose pills.
After a while Sidney calls my name.
“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” I yell. “And please, if you like me at all, do not come up here!”