"Fish, Pat - Happy Last Birthday To You" - читать интересную книгу автора (Fish Patricia)

"Is it hot in here?" I asked into the air, but most out of concern for Jeremy. He didn't look well.

Jeremy nodded his head yes, quite vigorously. Chad jumped up and opened a window.

"You okay, buddy? You look like you might have eaten too much." Chad slapped Jeremy on the shoulder in manly concern. Jeremy nodded, either to say he was okay or to agree that he had eaten too much.

"Well, let's just clear out these dishes and get that cake out here. Can you read lip-singing Jeremy?"

I tried to sound cheerful, but was rapidly becoming concerned about Jeremy. His face was very red and he appeared to be gasping.

"Is he all right, Roberta? Why don't you get him his Datacell?" Mom suggested.

Roberta unbuttoned the top button on Jeremy's shirt. "He's fine. He always gets like this after a heavy meal." Roberta wiped his forehead with a dinner napkin solicitously. "You're all right, aren't you honey? Because we have a birthday cake for you. I'll get your Datacell for you, but would like to wait until after coffee and cake. Remember it's our only prototype and it was quite expensive. But if you want....." Roberta's voice trailed off. Jeremy nodded no and spread his hands to indicate his health.

I wasn't liking this one bit. Not one bit at all. I pointed to Chad to follow me into the kitchen.

"Jesus Jan....you think your sister is trying to murder him right in your house? In front of all these people? And she looks concerned. Man....YOU got me spooked now. Makes me wonder who the crazy one is here."

This sort of remark deserved a thorough argument in which I could hardly indulge with a house full of company.

"Just answer me this," I whispered loudly to Chad as we gathered cake and coffee, "why is it whenever she is around...something happens?"

Chad picked up the tray with coffee pot, cups and spoons. "Come on Jan. Quit making a mountain out of a molehill." Chad pushed the door open to the dining room and left me feeling silly.

Jeremy was ashen grey upon my return to the dining room.

"Dear, I really think Jeremy's not feeling well...." Mom said to Roberta. Jeremy raised his hands to bring peace and indicate he was fine. His fingernails were blue.

"Okay, let's just sing him a quick happy birthday and let him blow out the candles. Then I'll get his Datacell and maybe we'll go to our hotel and get some rest. Is that okay, honey?" Roberta said to Jeremy, who nodded yes and waved his hand to bring on the birthday cake.

We sang what had to be the quickest Happy Birthday song ever. Not a soul at that table believed that Jeremy was fine. Except for Roberta. It was when Jeremy tried to blow out the candles that he collapsed.

Roberta paced the emergency room floor. Her blue eyes shone with tears that transformed her into the quintessential angel.

"I had no idea. How could I possibly know? Never once had he told me he was allergic to shellfish. I knew about his weak heart, but....the combination of the two.... Oh Mom," Roberta wailed as she threw herself into my mother's arms, "if only we had gotten him here sooner. If only......" Mom held Roberta to her breast.

"It's all right dear," Mom soothed as she patted the sobbing Roberta. "We were all there. Any one of us could have..... It's not your fault, dear."

Chad and I sat on the hard waiting room bench. We were both numb. Only ten minutes prior the Doctor had informed us that Jeremy had died from heart failure. His heart had simply stopped from lack of air that would not come from his swollen lungs; lungs swollen in an extreme reaction to shellfish.

"If he knew he was allergic to shellfish, why did he eat the shrimp?" Chad asked no one in particular.

We all remained silent and wondered this also.

"They didn't look like shrimp!" I suddenly shouted, jumping from the chair with this conclusion. "Baked stuffed shrimp.....it doesn't look like shrimp!" I felt compelled to repeat. "Jeez, I don't think the guy even knew he was eating shrimp. Did you tell him , Roberta? It was you...." my voice trailed off for a reason.

It was Roberta who asked me to serve the shrimp. And now that I thought about it, she had never been especially fond of stuffed shrimp that I was aware.

"I don't remember if I mentioned it or not," Roberta said.