Page 95 of Ripple Effect
He’s sobbing on the other end of the line. I tip my head, the increase in my breathing the only thing betraying my true emotions. “When this is done, if she still ends up wanting to walk away, I’ll let her.”
“Cal…” But I have to get the words out.
“Beyond every part of me that knows I can’t live without her, I need her to be happy, Josh. She had every right to demand that from me. Now, I’m going to make sure she lives so she can have it—however she wants it. I’ll call you with updates.” I hang up while he’s protesting.
Striding back into the common room, I’m swiping a hand across my face. “Sam, Iris. I need you both for ten minutes. The rest of you are on standby.” I have to break the news to them to see if they can handle this mission.
Just because there’s no way I’m being kept off that helo doesn’t mean I won’t give them the choice.
65
Elizabeth
Year Six - Five Years Ago from Present Day – October 22 2048 GMT
By the time dessert and coffee is being served, most of the passengers at my table have a greenish tinge to their features. I haven’t experienced nausea yet in this pregnancy, but as David, then his husband, Matthew, excuse themselves repeatedly, each time coming back perspiring harder and harder, I become slightly queasy.
That mild feeling starts to turn into a full revolt as the man from the table behind me shoves his chair back so hard as he races from the dining room, it jolts me forward, practically landing me face-first in my fresh vanilla bean ice cream.
I lean toward Linc, the only other person not ill at our table. “Do you get seasick?”
He frowns. “The seas are a little turbulent tonight, but nothing that should be causing this kind of reaction. Camille has been on boats plenty of times, Elizabeth.” Just then, Camille stands and grabs her napkin. She races on stilettos for the exit. “See? If she’s able to run in those shoes… If you’ll excuse me, my dear.”
“Of course. Go,” I urge him.
David sits again, his face pale but resigned. “What did you have for dinner?”
Since none of the specialties contained anything but fish, I went for something from the standard menu. “The filet and fresh vegetables.”
“Then I fear you may be one of the few of us who won’t be dealing with this tonight,” he says bluntly. “I suspect we all have a form of food poisoning. Darn swordfish must have been bad.”
“I never thought it could come on that suddenly,” I question as David starts to look a little green again.
“I don’t remember it happening this fast the last time, but it’s entirely possible.”
“Do you think we should call the medic?” Concern laces my voice.
David shrugs before he grips his stomach tightly. “If it is, we’re all going to get the same advice. The symptoms might range from diarrhea to nausea, stomach cramps, and vomiting. There could also be fever and chills. Stick to our cabins, don’t bother the other passengers. If it’s worse, call the ship’s clinic.” He groans. “If you’ll excuse me, love.” David shoves away from the table.
A few minutes pass before Linc returns. “David thinks it’s food poisoning,” I blurt out.
His face grim, he nods his agreement. “Don’t go outside for a walk tonight. Half the passengers are unable to make it back to their rooms, so they’re availing themselves of the open deck to relieve their nausea.”
My nose scrunches. “What did Camille have for dinner?” I ask curiously.
“The chef’s special. Mussels.” At my frown, Linc asks, “Why?”
“That’s not what David and Matthew had.” I bite down on my lower lip.
“Maybe their refrigeration system went bad.” Linc gives a disgusted look at the creamer sitting next to his coffee. “If that’s the case, then neither of us is going to be immune for long.”
“True. And on that pleasant thought, maybe I’ll head back to my cabin for the night.”
“Do me a favor, Elizabeth?” Linc stands with me. “Check in with us in the morning? You’re traveling alone, and I don’t like the idea of you being ill.”
A warmth steals across my heart. I reach for his hand and give it a quick squeeze. “Go take care of Camille. I’m sure things will be fine by morning.”
But just as we’re about to leave, the ship’s alarm goes off. “All passengers, make your way to your muster stations. This is not a dri—”
