Page 78 of That Weekend in Paris
“That’s easy to say when you’ve had all of that,” Riley snaps back, “as I’m sure you no doubt have, Dillon. You, being songwriter of the year married to Josh Cummings. I’m sorry that you couldn’t hold on to your husband, keep him out of another woman’s bed, but that doesn’t mean that you should resort to stealing another woman’s man.”
I stand then, realizing it is far past time for me to go. “I think enough has been said, Riley,” I say. “Good luck to you.” I turn then to leave the room, but she stops me with a venomous hiss.
“Do not underestimate me, Dillon. When I say that I will have him at any cost, that is exactly what I mean.”
I turn then, taking in the look of pure hatred on her face. “Is there something you would like to elaborate on, Riley?”
She struggles with the answer, the desire to unleash on me versus the struggle to maintain her composure. “Just know this. I am completely capable of making sure no one else has him.”
A chill of disgust ripples across me then, and without giving myself another moment to take in her poisonous words, I open the door and leave the room.
Klein
“An entire sea of water can’t sink a ship unless it gets inside the ship. Similarly, the negativity of the world can’t put you down unless you allow it to get inside you.”
—Goi Nasu
I’M GETTING DRESSED to go to the hospital when the nausea hits me. It is so sudden and with such force that I drop to my knees on the bathroom floor. Within seconds, I am throwing up the orange juice I’d taken my supplements with before getting in the shower. It doesn’t let up for a good ten minutes, until there is absolutely nothing left inside me to throw up other than my own insides. I am so spent by the violence of the sickness that I stretch out, face down, on the bathroom’s marble floor, closing my eyes and praying that it doesn’t hit again.
Finally, convinced that it’s over, I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out what is going on. This episode is exactly the same as the one I had in Paris, only worse. My head is starting to pound now, and I feel the intensity of it building. I wonder if I have some horrible disease that I’m only just figuring out. Why would this happen twice with no apparent reason?
I remember the pain medication the doctor in France had given me. I manage to pull myself up to the bathroom counter and find it still inside my shave case. I open the bottle, swallow two tablets with as little water as I can manage and then make my way into the bedroom where I collapse onto the bed.
~
I HAVE NO idea how much time has passed. When I wake up I am groggy and feel as if I’ve been asleep for a week. I lift up on one elbow, look at the clock and see that it is one in the afternoon. I wait for a moment to see if the headache is gone, and it is. My stomach feels as if it has been rinsed with acid.It aches almost unbearably.
By this point, I’m pretty sure I need to see a doctor. I pick up my cell phone and call my manager.
Curtis answers on the first ring. “Hey,” he says.
“I’m a little under the weather. I was wondering if you could get me in with a doctor today?”
“Sure. What’s going on, Klein?” he asks with worry in his voice.
“I don’t really know. It’s the same thing that happened in Paris. I just became uncontrollably sick with a massive headache afterward. It’s happened again this morning, so I have no idea, but I don’t think it’s anything good.”
“Yeah, man,” Curtis says. “I know a guy over at Vanderbilt. Let me give him a ring and see what I can get going. I’ll be back in touch with you in just a bit, okay?”
“Thank you,” I say and hang up.
It’s less than five minutes before Curtis calls back. “I’m going to come over and pick you up. The appointment is in an hour with Dr. Macau. He was happy to work you in.”
“I really appreciate that, Curtis. I was headed to the hospital this morning. My phone is blowing up with texts from Riley. Would you mind calling her? Tell her what’s happened and check in on the baby for me, please? I don’t think I can right now.”
“Of course,” Curtis says. “I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”
“Yeah. See you then.”
~
CURTIS IS TRUE to his word, knocking on my door in exactly a half hour. I’ve managed to get dressed but am so weak that I can barely walk to the car without his hand at my arm.
“You’ve got me worried, Klein,” Curtis says as he pulls out onto the street from my house. “No idea what’s going on?”
“None,” I say shaking my head.
“Look, everything’s going to be all right. Dr. Macau is the best of the best, and whoever you need to see from there, he’ll make excellent recommendations.”
