Midnight in Brussels by Rebecca Randolph Buckley

been waiting till I quit vomiting long enough to take them. No. It’s just the flu. I’ll get over it. Okay, but wait till after the hail stops. Don’t come out in this storm. Okay. Love you, too.”
    Twenty minutes later Paula was at the door, knocking.
    “Just a minute!” Amanda called out while she raised herself from the loveseat where she’d just fallen asleep wrapped in a blanket. She opened the door. “Didn’t I tell you not to come out in this storm, Paula? It’s too dangerous for you to be driving.”
    “Oh, don’t you be silly. I’ve been out in worse than this. I remember when neither one of us ever worried about any ol’ storm.” She took off her coat and reached for Amanda. “Now let’s take a look at you. My God, you look like shit!”
    “I feel like shit.”
    “Have you eaten anything today?”
    “Hell no. Wouldn’t be able to hold it down, if I did.”
    “You got any cans of soup?” Paula asked.
    “Some tomato and chicken noodle in the cabinet.”
    “Okay, you go lie down. I’ll fix some crackers and chicken noodle. That’ll do the trick. You got any tea?”
    Amanda pointed with one hand and held her belly with the other. “There’s some green tea in the basket on top of the refrigerator.”
    Paula immediately brewed tea and poured a can of Campbell’s soup in a pan on the stove. She stepped back in the kitchen doorway to look at Amanda lying on the loveseat in her blanket. “Hon, you don’t look too good. Maybe we ought to take you to the doctor.”
    “No, I’ll be all right. It’s getting better, really. You know I don’t like doctors.”
    “Well, I don’t know. Your face looks drawn and it looks like you lost some weight and you can’t afford to do that. You’re skinny as a rail as it is.”
    Wanting to change the subject, Amanda said, “You look like you’re ready to pop that child, Paula.”
    “Yep, you got that right. Come hell or high water you’re gonna get a nephew this month.”
    “Looks like it might be high water if this storm keeps at it.” They both laughed.
    Paula stepped back into the kitchen to prepare the soup and the tea. She carried out a cup and saucer for Amanda. “Okay now, sip on this. I put some honey in it. It’s good for you when you’re sick like this. It’ll give you some energy. You need to get some liquid in you since you’ve lost it all.”
    “Actually I feel better than I did when we talked on the phone. Must be the capsules I took.”
    “Well, the soup will help, too. I’ll have a cup of tea with you.” She went back to the kitchen for the tea and stirred the soup. “Have you heard from Richard?”
    “He’s coming down on Monday. We’re going out to dinner at the Woolgrowers.”
    “He’s such a nice guy, isn’t he? And he really does like you, hon. I couldn’t believe how much he watched you when y’all were at the house last week. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. Drake remarked about it after you left. And talk about getting along with Drake! I mean, they’re like two peas in a pod. We couldn’t ask for a better brother-in-law.”
    Amanda smirked. “We ain’t getting married. I’m already married.”
    Paula waved a hand dismissively. “That doesn’t matter. You can’t go back to living with Arlie even if he did come back. You wouldn’t want to, would you?”
    “Hell, no.”
    “Well, you can annul that one. You said Richard wants to marry you.” Paula sat in the chair next to the loveseat with an inquisitive look on her face.
    “I didn’t say I would.”
    “Why not? You like him and he’s good to you. It’s obvious he’s crazy about you.”
    “The soup’s boiling over, Paula.”
    “Dammit!” She lunged for the kitchen and the pan of soup. “It’s okay. Not much of it boiled over.”
    “You never were much of a cook.” Amanda laughed.
    “I didn’t have to be, I had you and Grandma to do it all for me.”
    They both giggled as if they were little girls again.
    Paula reached for a soup