“Oh good. I’ll have some too. The one in the packet.” Ronan looked as if he were expecting Jude to do all the cooking.
“That’s what I was making. For myself. As in, I’m not sharing,” Jude shot back. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he really felt like shit. He loved to tease Ronan, but being this sick made him feel mean.
Ronan sighed. “That’s fine, I’ll just make my own packet. We’ve got plenty of pots.”
“You can’t.” Jude crossed his arms over his chest.
“What do you mean I can’t? This is my kitchen. I can do whatever the fuck I want!” Ronan coughed, his face turning red. He doubled over and hacked a bit more. It took a minute for him to catch his breath.
Taking pity on his friend, and soup rival, Jude helped Ronan to the table and pulled out a chair for him to sit on. Ronan wore a pitiful look. His face was wet with tears that had leaked out when he was coughing. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles and his nose was running. In a few more seconds it would dribble onto his lips. Grabbing a napkin, Jude wiped Ronan’s snotty nose. “There’s only one packet of soup left. We can share it if you like,” Jude offered, holding it up.
“I don’t want to share. It’s mine. This ismyhouse and that’smysoup.” Ronan grabbed the packet and tried to pull it out of Jude’s hand. Only Jude wasn’t letting go.
“What the hell is wrong with you? I had it first. It’smine!” Jude yanked his arm back, pulling Ronan forward, the two men bumped heads. “Ouch! Asshole!”
“Who are you calling an asshole?” Ronan used his left hand to push Jude’s face away from his own. “Mine!”
Jude couldn’t help but think Ronan sounded like the seagulls inFinding Nemo, but now wasn’t the time to mention it. Pullingharder, Jude felt Ronan’s grip slacken. He heard a ripping sound followed by the tinkling of dried noodles hitting and bouncing off the floor. Each man held an empty half of the packet. “Fuck me!”
“Yeah, fuck you! This is allyourfault.” Ronan coughed again. He backed away from Jude and skidded on the noodles and flavoring mix. Pinwheeling his arms backward, he managed to catch himself before he fell to the floor.
“Bravo, dickheads!” Fitzgibbon said from the kitchen door. His iPhone was pointing at the warring best friends. “Now there’s no soup for any of us.”
Jude stared down at the ruined remains littering the floor. He was too tired and hungry to grab a broom to sweep it up. “If I were home, Cope would cook for me. He’s probably having the time of his life with Ten and the kids. Making crafts, heating up leftovers, and singing along toFrozen.” Jude wanted to go home. He felt like crying, but wouldn’t. He straightened up and took a seat at the table.
“It’s time to call in the big gun.” Picking up his phone, Ronan tapped the screen. Seconds later, the sounds of a ringing phone filled the kitchen.
“How are you feeling, Ronan?” Kaye asked, when she answered the phone.
“Terrible. Every bone in my body hurts and I’ve got the worst headache of my entire life.” He sneered at Jude.
“Did you take aspirin?” Kaye sounded as if she were trying hard not to laugh at Ronan’s predicament.
“I don’t think aspirin will help. My headache is sitting at the table with me and just wrecked my last packet of soup. Now we’re all gonna starve to death.”
Jude turned to look at Ronan. Unless he missed his guess, his best friend’s eyes had gone misty. Shit, Jude never would have argued for the soup so hard if he’d know losing it would make Ronan this upset. He wasn’t a total monster.
Kaye laughed, but tried to cover it with a cough.
“Cripes, if you’re not on my side, I’ll die for sure. Could you come over and make us some soup?” Ronan sounded absolutely pitiful.
“I’ll be right over,” Kaye said, sounding resigned to her fate.
“Bye.” Ronan hung up the phone and dabbed at his eyes with a tissue. “She’s coming over.”
“We heard,” Fitz said, taking a seat at the table.
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang, followed by Kaye’s cheerful, but muffled voice. “I’m here! Where are my sick boys?”
“Kitchen!” Jude answered, before sneezing three times into his elbow. “Fuck a duck.”
“Language!” Kaye said, walking into the room. She’d shed her winter coat, but wore a white Tyvek suit with a mask over her mouth and nose. On her hands were latex gloves. If Jude didn’t know better, he’d think Kaye was here to bump them off.
“Are you here to help us or rob us?” Jude asked. Why the hell was Kaye dressed like Walter White?
“Now Jude, why would I want to rob you?” Kaye shook her head. “With Jace at work and Fitz here, it would have made much more sense to head to their house first.”
“Gee, thanks?” Fitz muttered.
