Chapter 91
Lindy and Effie made their way to the dining table.
Friedman was out at a work event, so he wouldn’t be joining them for dinner.
That left just the three of them to eat together.
Lindy noticed the look of distaste on Lyman’s face as he eyed the bowl in front of him, his brow furrowed in obvious displeasure. With thinly veiled annoyance, she said, “I made this especially for you. Hurry up and drink it.”
Lyman didn’t budge.
Seeing this, Effie tried to coax him. “Your mom went through the trouble of making it just for you. You really should drink it-don’t let her effort go to waste.”
Let her effort go to waste?
Lyman glanced at Effie, a slow, wry smile tugging at his lips. “Do you really want me to drink it?”
Effie hesitated, confused by his tone. Still, Lindy had put so much care into making the soup—wouldn’t it be wrong if he refused? She nodded earnestly. “Of course!”
Lyman’s smile widened as he replied, “Don’t regret it later.”
With that, he picked up the bowl, ladled out the soup, and downed it in one long gulp.
Afterwards, everyone settled down for dinner.
During the meal, Lindy suddenly remembered something. “Effie, there’s an Afternoon Tea Social next weekend. Are you free? I’d like to bring you along.”
She figured it wouldn’t hurt for Effie to start getting used to these sorts of gatherings. Even though Lindy herself wasn’t particularly fond of small talk and formalities, some events were simply unavoidable.
Effie paused for a moment, then quickly replied, “I’m free next weekend, Mom. I’ll go with you.”
In fact, Effie had some experience with tea etiquette. Back when she was with Mitchell, she’d learned how strict the Lloyd family could be about traditions- everything from tea service to flower arranging and table settings had its own set of rules. Determined to fit in, Effie had sought out a professional instructor and picked things up quickly thanks to her natural talent.
Now, attending these sorts of social events was second nature to her.
After dinner, when it was getting late, Lyman and Effie prepared to head home.
Just before they left, Lindy pulled Effie aside and, with a conspiratorial air, pressed a beautifully wrapped gift bag into her hands. “Take this home and open it later,” she whispered.
Effie was left scratching her head in confusion, but she thanked her mother-in-law and headed out with Lyman.
On the drive home, Effie noticed a flush creeping up Lyman’s cheeks.
That’s odd, she thought. It wasn’t particularly hot tonight, but something about Lyman seemed off.
By the time they got home, Lyman’s face was burning red, and his breathing had grown shallow and quick. Unable to ignore it any longer, Effie asked, “Lyman, are you alright? Are you feeling sick?”
He didn’t answer-just loosened his tie and looked at her with an unfocused, almost feverish gaze.
Effie’s concern spiked. Something definitely wasn’t right.
“Sit down. I’ll get you some water,” she said, hurrying into the kitchen.
When she returned, Lyman was sprawled on the sofa, eyes closed, brow pinched with discomfort, and a sheen of sweat breaking out across his forehead.
He hadn’t expected his mother’s concoction to be this potent. He knew it was some sort of herbal tonic meant to “boost his vitality,” but he hadn’t realized just how strong it was. All he could do was offer a bitter smile—clearly, his mother was very eager for a grandchild.
“Lyman, are you sure you’re okay? Maybe we should go to the hospital?” Effie was starting to panic. She reached out to touch his forehead and was shocked by how hot he felt.
Oh no-was he sick?
Suddenly, Lyman’s eyes snapped open. He caught her wrist in his hand, his voice low and rough. “Effie, do you really not know what was in that soup?”
Effie froze, shaking her head in bewilderment. “The soup? What about it? Didn’t your mom say it was just a nourishing broth? Wasn’t it?”
In a flash, she remembered the mysterious soup Lyman had drunk at dinner, and
the secretive way Lindy had handed her that gift bag. Dread crept up her spine- could it be what she was starting to suspect?