I thought about that for a moment and decided I wasn’t going to throw up. I took a step and went down to one knee. “Oops,” I said. “The curb’s in my way.”

Morelli hauled me up, slung me over his shoulder, and carried me into the house and up the stairs. I flopped onto Morelli’s bed and put one foot on the floor to stop the whirlies. “Wanna have sex?” I asked.

Morelli grinned. “I think I’ll take a rain check on that one. I’m still worried you’re going to be sick. Do you want me to help you get undressed?”

“No. But it’d be good if you could make the room stand still.”

I WAS AWAKE but I was afraid to open my eyes. I suspected hell was lurking just beyond my eyelids. My brain didn’t fit in my head and the little devil guys were poking hot sticks in my eyeballs.

I cracked an eye and squinted up at Morelli. “Help,” I whispered.

Morelli had a coffee cup in his hand. “You really tied one on last night.”

“Did I make an idiot of myself?”

“Honey, you were at a dinner party with my family. On your best day you couldn’t even compete in the idiot contest.”

“Your mother isn’t an idiot.”

“My mother likes you.”

“Really?” I eased myself into a sitting position, put both hands to my head, and applied pressure in an attempt to prevent my brain from exploding. “I’m never doing this again. Never. I’m done drinking. Okay, maybe a beer once in a while, but that’s it!”

“I went out and got the cure,” Morelli said. “I have to leave for work, but I want to make sure you’re okay first.”

I opened my other eye. I sniffed the air. “The cure? Really?”

“Downstairs,” Morelli said. “I left them in the kitchen. Do you want me to bring them up?”

Not necessary. I was on my feet. I was moving. Slowly. I was at the stairs. One step at a time. I was going to make it. I put my hands over my eyes to keep my eyeballs from falling out of my head while I worked the stairs. Then I was on firm floor. I inched forward. I was in the kitchen. I squinted into the red haze and I saw it. It was sitting on the little wooden kitchen table. A large bag of McDonald’s French fries and a large Coke.

I carefully eased myself onto a kitchen chair and took my first fry. “Ahhhh,” I said.

Morelli was slouched in the chair opposite me, finishing his coffee. “Feeling better?”

I sipped some Coke and I ate more fries. “Much better.”

“Are you ready for ketchup?”

“Definitely.”

Morelli got the ketchup out of the fridge and dumped some on a plate for me. I mushed some fries in the ketchup and tested them out.

“I think the brain swelling is going down,” I said to Morelli. “The pounding has stopped.”