Chapter 9
Joey
Under the Weather
This evening we’re building a test gingerbread house. With the competition just a week away, I hope everything goes smoothly as we don’t have much time to refine our design. Now that we’ve entered the competition, I’m in it to win it.
The bakery smells like gingerbread when we arrive. Katie and Scott have been excited all day and barely ate any of their dinner. Emma instructed us to come in through the back door, but it’s Blake who greets us when we arrive.
“Emma’s sick,” he says without further preamble as we enter the kitchen.
“Sick? Is she here?”
Blake nods. “She’s resting in the break room. She baked all the gingerbread and made the icing, but I’m not sure she’ll be able to help you assemble and decorate the house.” He leans in and speaks in a low voice. “It might be better to postpone until tomorrow because she’ll try her best to help. I just don’t think she should be doing anything at the moment other than getting some rest.”
Katie tugs on my sleeve. “Is Emma sick? Does she have a tummy ache?”
I kneel to talk to the kids. “Emma isn’t feeling well. I’ll go talk to her. Can you stay here with Blake for a few minutes?”
Even though she’s met Blake at my house, my niece eyes the big man dubiously as she chews on her finger. When Blake brings over a plate of gingerbread cookies, her face brightens.
“How about some cookies and chocolate milk?” he suggests.
Katie claps and Scott nods. Blake points to two chairs in the far corner and the kids scramble to take a seat.
“Thanks, man. A food bribe is always a great idea,” I tease my teammate, then stride off to the break room.
The lights are off, but there’s some dim light coming from the hall, so I leave the door open. Emma is sitting in one of the café table chairs, her head resting on her arms on the tabletop. I tiptoe over to her and kneel beside her, just like I did with the kids. She appears to be sleeping, so I don’t want to startle her. Maybe I should just let her sleep?
“I heard you come in, Josef,” she rasps without raising her head. “You tiptoe as quietly as an elephant.”
A chuckle bursts from my lips before I can stop it. Even when she’s sick, and down for the count, Emma still gives me grief. I ignore her jab. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a sick dog. The flu that’s going around really takes you out.”
Her voice is barely above a whisper. I lean closer to better hear what she’s saying. Putting my hand on her forehead, I check for fever like my mom used to do.
“You’re burning up! Have you taken any medication?” My heart spikes with concern. Should I take her to an urgent care facility?
“I took some over-the-counter stuff, but it isn’t helping much.”
Decision made. Emma’s health is far more important than any test gingerbread house. “I’m taking you to urgent care. Where’s your coat?”
She raises her head as if it takes all her energy to do so. “I’ll call Mia to take me home. You and the kids should build the house and decorate it.” Fumbling in her pocket, she pulls out her cell. “I’ll text you the photo of the house we’re going to build.”
I gently remove the phone from her shaking fingers. “Emma, I’m not worried about building the gingerbread house, I’m worried about you.”
Her face falls, her lips wobble, and she stares at the table. A couple tears trickle from the corner of her eyes. “Dang! Why did I have to get sick?”
Sounds like she’s accepted going to the doctor, but I rub her back, hoping to console her and make her feel better. “No worries. Maybe this is only a twenty-four-hour bug.” My mind whirls with what I’m going to do with the kids while I take Emma to urgent care. I don’t really want to take the kids along and expose them to any germs. “I need to talk to Blake for a minute. Be right back.”
The moment I stand, she lays her head back on the table with a thunk! She must be feeling pretty crummy not to put up any further protest. Blinking at the bright lights in the kitchen, I enter and there is Blake entertaining the kids. He’s showing them the goalie butterfly position, sans any pads, and it’s hilarious. The kids are laughing hysterically at his antics. Katie’s sporting a chocolate milk mustache and Scott’s nibbling on a cookie.
“Did you know Blake is a goalie just like you?” Katie asks excitedly.
“Duh! They’re on the same team, dummy,” Scott scoffs causing Katie’s lips to tremble.
I glare at Scott, ready to scold him for treating his sister badly
Before I can say a word, Blake interjects. “No one is a dummy around here.” His tone is gentle, but with just the right touch of reproach. “Katie has never seen me play because her uncle is the best goalie on the team right now.” He holds his hand up to his mouth and whispers, “But I’m coming for him!”
My niece laughs and claps. “Did you hear that? He’s coming for you, Uncle Joey!”
“Good luck, Number Two Goalie. Bring it on!” I fire back.
Blake puffs out his chest and mouths “just watch me” as I roll my eyes.
“Can we talk for a few seconds while the kids finish their snack?”
“Sure,” Blake accompanies me to the other side of the room, away from little ears.
“I think Emma should go to urgent care.”
“Good luck. I’ve been telling her that for the last half hour.”
I exhale loudly, knowing how stubborn Emma can be. “Well, I’m not going to give her a choice.”
“Are you going to postpone the gingerbread house construction? Those kids are going to be disappointed.”
“You got any other suggestions?”
He nods. “I’ve got six nieces and nephews and I’m their go-to babysitter. My sisters find all sorts of excuses to leave the kids with me. I’ve got lots of babysitting experience.”
Why is he telling me this?
He grins. “How about the kids stay here with me. We’ll build the gingerbread house while you take Emma to the doctor.”
Ah, he was selling me on his experience with kids.
“You’d do that?” I question his generous offer.
“Joey, you’re like family. When I couldn’t find a place to live, you offered to rent me a room in your house. I owe you one.”
Who knew that helping my teammate made such a big impression? “Blake, that was nothing. But I’ll take you up on your generous offer! Go ahead and build the house with the kids. Can you leave some of the decorating for tomorrow in case Emma feels better? I think she’d hate to miss out on that.”
He slaps my back, almost knocking me off my feet. The guy is strong as an ox. “You betcha! We’ll build the sturdiest gingerbread house in the west.”
“Just build one that doesn’t fall over or collapse,” I tease as I stride over to the kids. “I’m going to take Emma to the doctor. Blake is going to help you build the gingerbread house.”
Katie pops up from her chair and raises her hand. I stifle a chuckle. Her kindergarten teacher has really made an impression on her.
“Yes?”
“When are we making the fairy house?”
“We might have to postpone the fairy house until Emma feels better.” Her nose scrunches and I anticipate a meltdown over this news.
“Emma baked some smaller pieces for the fairy house. We can take a shot at it,” Blake offers.
Katie hops over to Blake and grabs his hand; he’s her new best friend. “Okay! Can we start now?”
While those two converse about the fairy house, I turn to my nephew. “Scott, are you okay with this plan?”
He shrugs. “Sure.”
I sense some hesitation in his tone. “Tell me your concerns.”
He chews on his lower lip, “When will we build the real house to enter in the contest?”
“When Emma feels better.” I cross my fingers that she’s better in only a couple days as we are running out of time.
Seeing that the kids feel comfortable with Blake, I rush down the hall to the break room to set my plan in motion. Emma is in the same position as I left her in. I bumble around the room to find her coat and purse.
“Let’s get you bundled up.” She’s as limp as a wet noodle as I struggle to help her with her coat. It takes a couple of tries, but I get the job done. Slinging her purse over my shoulder, I scoop her up into my arms. “Ugh! Where are you taking me? I’m too heavy to carry,” she squeaks in a weak tone.
“Em, you’re as light as one of your cupcakes,” I reassure her. “We’re going to see a doctor. No arguments.”
The firmness in my voice seems to cut off her concerns. She rests her head on my shoulder as I carry her down the hall. When she doesn’t make another peep of protest, my worries escalate. She must be feeling really terrible not to insist that I let her walk.
Blake opens the back door and assists me in getting Emma into the passenger seat of my vehicle. I buckle her seatbelt and get in the driver’s seat. “Good luck with the kids. I really appreciate this.”
He nods. “Honestly, I don’t mind. I’m glad you convinced Emma to go to the doctor.”
“I think it was more like I strong-armed her to go to the doctor.”
We both laugh.
~*~
Emma and I have been sitting in the waiting room of the urgent care facility for about ten minutes. The room is filled with sniffles, coughs, and germs. There are three groups of people ahead of us waiting to see the doctor. It will be a miracle if I don’t come down with this flu. Blake may get that opportunity to play goalie sooner than he thinks.
Emma leans heavily against me with her eyes closed. I don’t know whether she’s asleep, passed out, or just resting. She’s still huddled in her coat. We’ll worry about removing that when she gets into the exam room. I managed to find her insurance card in her purse after she woke up long enough to tell me where to look, so she’s all checked in.
“I feel so bad,” she mumbles.
My arm snakes around her shoulder and I tug her closer as she snuggles into me. “There’s only three more people ahead of us. Hang in there.”
Her head bobs in an almost imperceptible motion.
I know we need to wait our turn, but I want to jump up and demand for the doctor to see her right now. Emma’s lethargy and her admittance as to how bad she’s feeling really concern me.
About five minutes later, a nurse wearing purple scrubs bellows at the other side of the room, “Emma Larson!”
I stand and attempt to get Emma to stand, but after a couple of failed attempts, I scoop her up and carry her, just like you would a small child. The nurse gives me a worried look as she directs us to a small room down the hall.
“Please place her on the exam table.”
I lay Emma down as carefully as possible, the paper covering the table makes crinkling noises while I do so.
“You need to take her coat off so the doctor can examine her.” The nurse turns and disappears.
“Em, we’ve got to remove your coat.” I tackle the buttons, and Emma sits up long enough for me to pull the garment from around her body. The movement causes the paper covering the exam table to rip. I position Emma’s body over the tear in the hope that no one will notice.
I flop into the plastic chair beside the table holding Emma’s coat and her hand. For being ill, it’s surprising how tightly she clings to my fingers.
After sitting with Emma in the exam room for over ten minutes, I decide to go check on what is taking so long. Before I reach the door, it swings open, almost hitting me square in the face. A tall woman enters, wearing lime green scrubs, with a stethoscope slung around her neck.
“Hi, I’m Doctor Harris.”
“Josef Svenson.”
“And is Emma your wife?” she asks, referring to an iPad she picks up from the desk.
“No, she’s my girlfriend.” Is she going to kick me out of the room because we aren’t married?
Her eyes do a thorough scan of me and then the screen. Huh? Does she think I’m not boyfriend material?
“Okay. Let me do a quick exam and we’ll see what we can do for Emma.” Relief floods my body. Thank goodness, she doesn’t ask me to leave because I’d protest if she did.
As the doctor does her examination, she talks to me. Emma moans a couple times, but for the most part remains silent.
“There’s a nasty strain of flu going around. Emma’s swollen glands is an indication that she has it,” The doctor rubs her thumbs along Emma’s neck. “I’ll swab her and run the flu test. It takes about thirty minutes to process.” She pulls a long swab from a jar and swishes it around in Emma’s mouth. “Since Emma’s feeling so poorly, I’ll let you stay here while we run the test.”
“Thanks.”
The doctor nods, pausing before she heads out the door, “You don’t happen to play for the Golden Stars, do you?”
My jaw drops. No wonder she stared at me so intently when I introduced myself. “Yes, I do.”
She fist pumps the air. “I knew it! My daughter has a Svenson jersey. She loves watching you play. I can’t wait to tell her I met you.”
“That’s great! I’m happy to have fans of all ages.”
After the doctor breezes out the door, I slump back down in the hard plastic chair. It’s not exactly built for a big guy like me.
“You have fans everywhere, Josef Svenson,” Emma murmurs.
Laughing, I stand and gaze at her. “You were listening the whole time?”
Her lips twitch. “Yep. I especially liked that girlfriend comment.”
Even when she’s feeling bad, Emma can still yank my chain. She drifts back to sleep with a grin on her beautiful face. I’m pretty sure I’m falling for her.