9 A Motion Sickness

The white kitchen table was perfectly set for three people. Every detail looked polished to excellence. Jo loved the contrast between the table: grey placemats under white plates and bright grey napkins accompanying them. In the middle, it was like a full-fledged feast had been arranged with all kinds of stuff like salmon, potatoes, green asparagus and spinach.

"Wild Atlantic salmon and organic vegetables. All steamed. No fat. No oil. No salt." Matthew informed. "Jo, try something. The food is light. I also have some steamed whole grain rice, if you prefer some."

"Where is my favourite white wine?" She asked looking around the table.

"Nooo… She looks like a ghost from a dark horror movie and still asks about Chardonnay!" Mike was really frustrated.

"Why Chardonnay? It doesn't go nicely with this meal! I was thinking more like Sauvignon Blanc or Riesling, something more suitable for fish. And who said that I will drink it?" As Jo was speaking, she showed Mike her tongue like a little child. "I only want to listen to Matt’s story!"

"My dear, I have all kinds of alcohol, but you are not drinking and this buddy doesn't know about wine, so no point in giving him to try. That will be a waste!" Matthew hesitated for a moment. He didn't know if he should tell her about their good relations with Mike. Actually they were best buddies for the past few years.

"He can't distinguish between the taste of vodka and cognac." She muttered under her breath. "It's not a secret."

"We all know that." Matthew continued slowly. "After a meal, he usually asks for a glass of whiskey, but he knows what is good. I taught him well." He added.

Jo didn't want to discuss Mike's alcohol preferences. When they were studying, he couldn't enjoy the flavours at all. Usually, the most important thing about alcohol was its high percentage. "Get drunk quickly and efficiently." That was his motto back then.

"Could I have a small piece of salmon, one potato and a few asparagus, please?" She wanted to ask for more, but when she was speaking, her companions looked at her like she was an alien.

When they sat comfortably at the table, Matthew, as their host, started to serve the food he had just prepared. It looked stunning, as usual. Everything that he cooked was always first class, no doubt. Jo wanted to try to taste it at least. She could detect the magnificent smell of freshly chopped dill and melted butter.

"May I also have a little of the white sauce and some dill on top?" She asked timidly.

Both guys were stunned upon hearing her words. She was so sick in the morning, was not able to drink even water, and now she was demanding some food. She wanted a real portion of it. They both stared at her in disbelief and did not dare to comment; they preferred to just eating in silence.

"May I have another piece of fish and one more potato, please?" A few minutes later, Jo asked for more food again.

"Jo, should I give you your pink bucket too?" Mike started to laugh when he saw her eating happily as if nothing was wrong with her.

"I think the food is excellent! No need. By the way, do you remember the trip from Château de Sully-sur-Loire to Paris, during our last summer together?"

"Should I remember that?"

"Yes, you should. That time we visited all the most famous castles of the Loire." Jo was explaining. "Château de Sully-sur-Loire is the one where Joan d'Arc was imprisoned." She looked at him. From his facial expressions, she knew he didn't know what she was talking about. "You were sitting for three hours in the back of the car with a bucket too! What about Château de Vincennes, the famous place for entertainment and leisure of the French kings, the one near Paris? Do you remember it?"

"Hm… what is so special about that place?" Mike had just a big black hole in place of his memory.

"Magnificent architecture. Very beautiful and interesting place. It was a factory of some sorts of the famous Vincennes porcelain. Leonardo da Vinci spent the last years of his life in the Château. In fact, Mata Haris' execution also took place there. You don't remember?" Jo looked straight in Mikes' eyes.

"Hm... When was that?" Multiple thoughts were racing in his head. He remembered that they had travelled extensively throughout France during their last vacation together. Unfortunately, he did not remember too many details from that trip, except that everyone kept constantly complaining to him for not mentioning them at the wheel.

"How could you? You didn't even visit the place with us because you were drunk. You spent almost all day in the parking or in the car when it started to rain, also with the bucket. So leave my pink bucket in peace, please!"

"Mike, you were with the bucket most of the time during our trips that summer. Haha… Mike, you used to have this motion sickness very often." Matthew couldn't stop laughing. Most of his funny memories from their common travel diaries were connected with Mikes' hangover shenanigans. He was the only person from their team, who didn't drive much.

"You never drove! Should I refresh your memory? You always played on our compassion. You were always tired or sick…" Jo added like she knew exactly what Matthew was thinking of.

"It's all the real truth, man. You have to admit to your sins. You were not alone there, but with us." Matthew was laughing again. "You can't deny it! We have evidence, lots of photos, even videos."

The three of them, plus Monica and Paul, all best buddies then, used to travel around Europe for almost five years when they were studying. Every holiday, even during short breaks, Matthew used to take his parents' car and they used to set out traveling. They didn't have much money back then, but that was the best time of their life.

"My dear friend, you were not an angel. You were well aware of this yourself." Jo told with a pain in her heart. He was the love of her life, but he screwed up everything he could. She summed up in her mind. There was no point in scratching the old, already scarred wounds.

Mike did not feel like talking to them. Yes. He wasn't an angel, but he had good intentions. His parents were very strict. Even when he was in his early twenties at the university, he had to behave himself. That was not his fault that when he was far from them he was tasting freedom. He was enjoying himself to the maximum.