After the success of my baked ziti, I felt more confident about making an occasional meal for me and Clay to enjoy. He still did the majority of the cooking when we got together, but I contributed sometimes. I stuck to pasta dishes initially, but decided one night to try something more daring. Knowing Clay liked crab cakes, I got a recipe from the internet, purchased the needed ingredients, and got to work on making some. Since I wasn’t a fan of seafood, I decided to make a burger for myself.
The meal was uneventful. Clay said the crab cakes were “a little soggy” but okay and he thanked me for making the effort. Maybe an hour after we’d eaten while I was loading the dishwasher, Clay told me he didn’t feel well.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Everything,” he said vaguely. “I’m going to bed.”
