LIZ
I had missed our bike rides around the city. So much freedom in just one simple thing. So misunderstood, the life of a biker offered beauty around every corner, as the motorbike had life of its own and was giving life to the most routine of activities.
Going shopping in a car was, sure, practical, but had no poetry to it. On a motorbike, it had style. Joy rides were, indeed, joyful, and the adrenaline rushing through your veins gave new meaning to the word pleasure.
I loved it whenever John had taken me on trips outside the city. I had always made sure we had enough food packed and off we went, urban explorers into the world, with no particular aim or schedule to follow.
I sighed, tightening my grip wound John’s waist, and laid my head on his back. The landscape ran before my eyes, the familiar and sweet dizziness taking ahold of my thoughts.
Then, I got nauseous. It had never happened and it scared me more than anything.
At my signal, John stopped the bike and I dismounted, my stomach’s rebellious convulsions bending me halfway.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, one step behind me. I waved him away, as I struggled with my helmet. When it was off, I emptied my stomach on the spot.
“Oh, my God, Liz! Are you alright?” He was again at my side. I didn’t want him to see me this way, I was embarrassed for not being able to bear through the ride. What will he think of me? A biker’s girlfriend suddenly not having the stomach for riding.
“Baby?” he insisted, but another wave of nausea prevented me from telling him to stay away.
After a couple more minutes of heaving and coughing, I was finally able to stand up straight. Not that I wanted to, I was too ashamed.
“Lizzy?” He placed his hands on my shoulders. “Look at me. Are you feeling alright?”
“I think so. It was nothing,” I tried to play it down.
“That was not nothing. Have you eaten something bad? Or, have you eaten anything at all?”
That must be it. “No, I haven’t had anything to eat today. This morning, while you were away, I tidied around the house. Then we left.”
“We have food with us, right?” I nodded. “Then, let’s find a spot and eat. I could probably finish a horse, how hungry I am.”
“That’s because you’re can animal,” I joked and he feigned punching me.
“Shut up.”
I giggled, happy that he wasn’t embarrassed with me. He took the food from the bike and helped me set a nice picnic.
“What are these?” he asked, opening one box.
“Egg rolls, you dummy.”
“Really? And these? And these?”
“That’s a sandwich. And that’s another sandwich.”
“Whoa! This sounds so fancy, Ma’am.” He was acting like he had never seen food in his life and was doing what I assumed could only be his impersonation of a person with special needs.
“Oh, my God. That’s offensive on so many levels, I can’t even begin to tell you. And to think I turned down a brunch with my girlfriends for this.”
“Shall I take you to them, Ma’am? And be left with all this fancy food all for myself. I can stand by that.”
I rolled my eyes. “Shut up and kiss me.”
“With egg roll on my face?”
I grabbed his t-shirt and pulled his face to mine. “With,” I said and kissed him.
We were interrupted by his phone. He pulled it out of this pocket and showed me it was the old man.
“Damn business,” I mouthed as he picked up.
“Yeah, boss.”
I couldn’t hear what the old man was saying and I stopped paying attention. I was suddenly smelling something that made my stomach turn.
“What’s this coming from?” I asked myself aloud and started inspecting casseroles and Tupperware. There was nothing wrong with my food, the smell was coming from somewhere else.
“What is it, babe?” John asked, putting his phone away.
“Where is this smell coming from?” I repeated my question.
“What smell?”
“What smell?” I imitated him. “Are you kidding me? It smells rotten around here. Like bad eggs or something.”
“I can’t smell anything, baby. Are you alright?”
“Nope,” I said, clenching my teeth. The smell was getting me sick.
“Well, it’s a good thing that we actually have to go back, then.”
“Why? What did he say?”
“The… um, the other guys want to make a deal.”
“What other guys?” I frowned, then realized what he was talking about. “You mean the brothers that threatened me?” He nodded.
“Don’t worry about it, baby. If they want to talk, they are afraid of us. That’s good most of the time.”
“And the rest of the time?” I asked, standing up. The smell was faintest there.
“Don’t worry about that. Let’s go.”
I packed the mostly untouched lunch while he texted someone, then we left. On the way back, I managed to keep my food down, but once home, I hurried to the bathroom to ease the ordeal.
John didn’t come in. We had decided he would drop me off and leave to see the boss.
After finishing my unpleasant business, I made some tea. The noise of the kettle gave me shivers; I was suddenly not feeling well alone in the empty house.
“I wonder if the brunch is still going on,” I said aloud and grabbed my phone.
A short text conversation later, and I was out the door again. My friend’s house was only two blocks away and walking seemed to make me feel better.
I got there in almost no time and was welcomed by a full spa displayed in the messiest way possible.
“What have you girls done here?” I asked, amazed by their ability to enjoy themselves in that clutter.
“Girl’s date. Come on, want to try a coffee mask?”
“Not really,” I managed to say before running to the bathroom. The smell of cosmetics had brought the nausea back, for the umpteenth time today. Come to think of it, I had been feeling lousy for a few days now. What was up with me?
I could hear my friends fussing about the bathroom door, whispering amongst themselves. As if they heard my silent question, one of them suggested:
“Maybe she’s pregnant.”
“No way,” I thought, in disbelief. “Could I be?”