"I mean, seriously!” Maurice laughed, flipping the page over. “White male. Average height. Blond hair. That’s their suspect description? That’s a third of the west coast. Are they even trying?”
Nancy snorted as she chewed. “At least it’s something. It’s been months and they’ve found nothing. The Feds have been able to co-ordinate better than the individual jurisdictions.”
“That’s true. Wait,” he said, his head popping up. “Is Jared working this? Do you have anything you can share?”
“Jared doesn’t do homicide,” Nancy said, putting her fork down and rubbing her temple. “He’s white collar.”
“Any chance you could get any inside information?”
“No, your serial killer addiction will have to sated somewhere else.”
“Ugh, fine.” Maurice’s shoulders slumped, and he went back to stirring his Matar Paneer. “I hope they get that bastard. Mrs. Grisham and those deserved better.” When Nancy didn’t reply, he looked up to find her pinching her nose between her eyes. “Are you alright?”
“No.” She rubbed her temples again before pointing to her food. “Where did you get this?”
“Taj Mahal. Like always.”
“If I get sick, Penash is going to hear about it.”
Maurice got up and came over, putting the back of his hand against her head. “You’re clammy. Let me get you something.” As he rummaged in his desk for antacids or anti-nausea tabs, he heard Nancy let out a pained groan, followed by a rumbling gurgle.
“Coming!”
Maurice entered her office in time to see her go down on one knee, holding the table for support with one hand. She grabbed the trashcan with her other and emptied her lunch into it.
He threw the medicine onto the table and ran back to his desk. He heard Nancy gurgle and retch again as he grabbed paper towels from his closet and ran back in.
After her third volley, Nancy’s lunch was everywhere: the floor, the table legs, the small trash can she had filled, and all over her. She sat back against the table breathing heavily and took the paper towels Maurice offered.
“Never let it be said you do anything in halves.” He looked around, plotting how to clean before he turned back to her. “Oh dear,” he said, his hand going over his mouth. Nancy wiped her face as she looked up at him.
“What?” The whites of her eyes were splattered red.
“Your eyes.” He pulled her compact mirror from her desk drawer and opened it so she could see herself. “I think you broke blood vessels.” She let out a heavy sigh before her face contorted again and she grabbed her stomach.
“Shit!” Maurice looked around before grabbing her larger trash can. Turning it upside down, he dumped out everything as he ran over. He tried to put the trash can under her, but she waved him off in between heaves. Two rounds later, Nancy reached empty.
“I’m... going to... kill Penash.”
“Are you sure it was lunch?” Maurice asked, his brows furrowed as he took everything in. “What did you have for breakfast?”
“The usual. Bacon, eggs, avocado.” She closed her eyes and laid her head against the table leg. “If it was breakfast, I wouldn’t have made it this far. It was lunch.”
“Yes, but you said you said you’ve had that low-grade headache all morning.” Maurice sighed and held out his hands. “Come, let’s get you to the couch.”
“No. I’ll just get the couch dirty. Shower first.”
“Can you stand long enough for a shower?” Maurice asked with his fists on his hips with one eyebrow up.
“In a few. Just let me rest here.”
“Very well. I’ll call William to come while you shower and get maintenance up here to handle this after you’ve gone.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Nancy said, opening her eyes to glare at him. Its effect greatly diminished by her current pitiful state.
Maurice sighed and let his head fall to one side. “You look like hell, and I imagine you feel worse. You aren’t working anymore today. You’re going home,” he said in his best no bullshit voice. Nancy raised a finger, but Maurice cut her off before she could speak. “Home.”
She glared at him for a moment before she gave up and let her arm drop.
“Yes, mother.”
----------------------------------------
After a rest, Nancy showered, and and came out to her track suit laid out on her desk.
“Odd choice,” she said, drying her hair. Maurice, who was doing some light clean up, glanced up and shrugged.
“You’ve left early in a track suit before. I figured it wouldn’t raise suspicion,” he said, turning back to his cleaning. “William’s on his way, so you have time to rest.”
On the ride home, she reclined in the back seat with her arm over her eyes. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but woke with a start when William closed his door and opened hers.
“A light dinner tonight, ma’am?” William asked, as he helped her out.
“No, thank you.”
He nodded. “Plenty of water then.”
“Thank you, but I’m fine.”
“If I may, ma’am,” William said, opening the front door. “Maurice mentioned you emptied yourself pretty completely, so you’ll need to drink so you don’t get dehydrated.”
She sighed. “If Mother Maurice calls, tell him I said thank you.”
William helped her upstairs and on the chase lounge in her bedroom. She was asleep before he returned from the bathroom with a glass of water.
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Janine and Ken sat in his living room, the fireplace going to keep them warm. Janine kicked her leg up on the arm of the chair.
“I just don’t get what you saw in him.”
“Stop. Jason isn’t that bad,” Ken said before taking a pull from the blunt. He held it in with his eyes closed and exhaled through his nose. “You intimidate him, so he gets squirrely around you. If you came over more, he’d be better.”
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“I’d come over more if I felt more welcome,” Janine said, taking the blunt from Ken, who shot her a glare as she took a long drag.
He pointed at her. “You know you’re welcome here anytime. Just follow your own rules and give me a heads up.”
“So Jason can put his hood and robe away?” Janine said before a coughing fit over took her.
Ken glared at her as she coughed and laughed. “You deserved that.” He took the blunt back as she pounded her chest and took several deep breaths.
“Worth it,” she said when she could breathe again. “How’s Red Rocks?” she asked, motioning for him to pass it back.
“Not as cold as here,” he said, taking a quick hit before he handed the blunt back. He coughed once and exhaled with his eyes closed to get his breath. He laid his arm across the back of the couch and pointed to the paper bag next to him. “Thanks again for this. I ran out a couple weeks ago.”
Janine set the blunt in the ashtray between them. “No sweat, you don’t have a dealer out there?”
“Nah. We aren’t there enough for me to find one.”
“You want me to ask around? I might know someone who can hook you up?”
“Cause all black people are drug dealers, right?” Janine laughed, which started another coughing fit. She sat forward and bowed her head as she tried to breathe.
Ken smiled when she looked at him again. “That was for the hood comment.”
She chuckled and nodded. “That’s fair. For real though, I might know someone, so I can ask around.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I’ll ration myself better next time.”
“Or bring more,” Janine said as he took a pull. He pointed at her and nodded as he held his breath.
“Hey,” he said after blowing out the smoke. “What’s up with Ikher? I stopped by to say hi and he looked like someone killed his dog.”
“Yeaaah,” she sighed, hanging and shaking her head. “He fell for the wrong girl and she broke his heart. He’s been in the dumps for a bit.”
“Aww, that sucks. Poor kid.”
“Yeah, she left him in the lurch with no reason. So he’s been killing himself wondering what he did wrong.” Janine took the blunt from him. “It’s been like, two months of me and his mom trying to keep him occupied so he doesn’t mope too much.”
“That’s all you can do.” He sat back. “God, I remember when I got my heart broken around his age. I was a useless lump for almost an entire year.”
“What got you better?” Janine asked after taking a quick hit.
“Time,” he said, shrugging. “And running away to Hawaii.”
Janine scowled at him. “See, that’s some white people shit right there.”
“I don’t think white people have a monopoly on running away from their problems,” Ken said with an eyebrow up.
Janine, in the middle of a drag, squinted at him before shaking her head. “Uh uh, I mean crossing an ocean to run from your problems.”
“Oh, what ever. I used my last dollars on the plane ticket. I had to live on the beach for the first few weeks when I was there.”
“Woe is me!” she laughed, falling back in the chari and throwing the back of her hand to her head. “I had to slum it on the beach of a tropical island!” Ken went to say something, but she held up a finger and took a quick pull. “I didn’t mean monetary,” she said before holding her breath. “I meant mind set,” she said, tapping her temple after she blew out the smoke. “How many black folks do you hear about fucking off to... I dunno, Sri Lanka when they have a crisis? Hmm? None.” She pointed at him. “We don’t get raised to think that’s an option.”
She offered him the blunt, but he waved her off so she put it in the ashtray.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Janine said, kicking her leg up over the chair arm again. “I’m not bagging on you for living the dream. I just wish that mind set extended to everyone.”
“It could. Nothing’s stopping you from raising Ainsley like that.”
“Oh I am. Except I’m teaching her to not to run from her problems,” she said with a wink.
Ken laughed and sat back. “What’s Ikher’s mother like?”
“Apsara?” Janine said with a big grin. “She’s a trip! She’s this sweet little old lady but she ain’t about any bullshit either.”
“That’s why Ikher’s such a good kid.”
“Oh yeah,” Janine snorted. “She’s got some hilarious stories about laying into his ass when he was little.”
Ken held up a finger. “Hold that thought,” he said, looking back down the hallway. “Do you want some hot chocolate?”
“Hell yes. Does it come with whiskey?”
“Of course! Come on.” He waved her down the hall. “I’ll get it started and you can regale me with tales of little Ikher getting into trouble.”
----------------------------------------
When she woke the next morning, Nancy’s neck, back, and stomach ached. Her head still pounded, but nothing she couldn’t tolerate. Her eyes weren’t as monstrous as yesterday, but still bloodshot. A ravenous wind blew through her stomach.
William looked up as she entered the kitchen. “Morning, madam. Feeling any better?”
“Slightly,” Nancy said, taking the glass of water he offered.
“Ready to give some food a shot?”
Nancy nodded and sat at the island. A few minutes later, William brought over some unspiced baked chicken, scrambled egg whites, and steamed white rice.
“Bland and tasteless as promised.”
Nancy smelled a piece of chicken. The headache didn’t worsen, so she put it in her mouth and chewed. William watched as she finished and swallowed. Putting her hands on the island, she closed her eyes and waited. No stomach pain. After a moment, she exhaled and looked up at William and nodded.
“Consider your menu altered for the next couple days. Would you like a to go meal for today?” he asked.
“Please.”
After breakfast and a quick rinse, Nancy came downstairs to find William waiting with the car running.
“I can drive myself,” she said when William opened the rear door.
“Maurice asked that I bring you today. Just in case.”
She sighed and nodded. The rising sun and street lamps only made the headache worse, so she read the paper through her sunglasses. As they pulled on The Six, Nancy felt a sharp pain from her stomach. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“Everything alright, ma’am?” William asked, glancing in the rear view.
“Fine,” she said with a forced smile.
William turned his attention back to the road, and Nancy closed her eyes to focus on breathing. The pain spiked as her stomach twisted, feeling like a towel being wrung out.
“Uhh,” she grunted, doubling over as she gripped the seat in front of her.
“Ma’am?” William asked in the rear view, seeing Nancy’s face contorted in pain. A warm, acidic taste rose in her mouth as she felt her stomach spasm.
“Pull over,” she grunted through clenched teeth.
William merged, and as soon as the car came to a stop in the emergency lane, Nancy threw the door open and emptied her breakfast onto the side of the road. After the second volley, she noticed William standing next to her.
He offered her a cloth napkin. She wiped her face and reclined in the seat. He waited for a bit to see if she had any more to expel before he closed the door. Getting in the car, he dialed a number on his phone in the console holster. Maurice’s voice sprang from the phone.
“I’m guessing this isn’t good news?”
“I’m bringing Mrs. Lanover back home.”
“I’ll hold the fort down, ma’am and call with any questions! Rest and get better!”
Nancy could only nod in reply.
“She says thank you.” William said as he looked for a spot to rejoin traffic.
As they got out of the car at home, Jared and Michael were coming out to leave.
“Mom, are you okay?” Micheal asked.
“Jesus, again? What did you eat yesterday?” Jared said, earning a nasty look from Nancy as William helped her past them and inside.
“Upstairs ma’am?” William asked as they entered the house.
“No.”
Nancy made her way toward the front room, where she lowered herself onto the couch. William brought her a glass of water and then left as she waited for the headache to recede. Again, she fell asleep without trying to.
She woke up to an odd smell that was neither good nor bad. Her stomach had unrung itself and her headache was a low hum. Nancy followed the odd, not quite greasy smell into the kitchen. William was stirring a large pot on the stove.
“Hows your head?” he asked when he noticed her. He stirred a large pot of golden liquid and what looked like carrots, celery, and small sticks floating.
“Lessened. What is that? It smells... odd.”
“Does it make you feel sick?” he asked, concerned, as he stopped stirring.
Nancy sniffed again and shook her head. William smiled and nodded before dipping the ladle back into the pot and pulling up a chicken carcass.
“Broth,” he said. “Not filling but if you can keep it down, it’ll at least give you some nutrients.”
“Does it taste like it smells?” she asked with a grimace that made William chuckle.
“Yes.”
Nancy let out a defeated sigh and shook her head. “Let me know when it’s ready. I’m going to get some work done. I’ll be up in my office.”
Some time later, William knocked on her office door frame. Nancy turned and removed her sunglasses. William held up a large mug with steam rising from it.
“Do you feel up for trying this?"
Nancy sighed, saved what she was working on, and got up. “Yes, but not here.”
She motioned him to follow as she walked into her bathroom. She set the toilet lid down, sat down, and took the mug from him. She sniffed the golden liquid and waited. No reaction, so she took a small sip. It was bland and surprisingly greasy.
He took the mug back, and they waited, Nancy on the toilet and William leaning on the sink counter, for almost twenty minutes. Eventually, Nancy held her hand out for the mug.
“Looks like I’m on a liquid diet until this passes.”