Chapter 5 #2
Daisy headed into the kitchen to finish cleaning up from dinner, but her mind was on Charlie.
Her dad was right. He was kind. And he was gentle, and he was so handsome.
At least to her he was. But that was part of the problem.
She didn’t trust her own judgment anymore.
The very fact that she found him attractive was enough to send caution signals to her brain.
For the first time in a long time her Bear sat up alert in her mind. Mate, she whispered.
No! We’ve been that route once. Look what it got us.
Her Bear lay back down and curled up in the back of her mind again.
But the idea that Charlie might be more than a passing interest kept nagging at her brain, and her father’s words replayed in her memory. “There’s no lie. He really cares.”
Daisy closed her eyes and tried to sense anything about him herself, but her fear must have been blocking her senses.
“You still doing dishes?” Janie asked, walking into the kitchen behind her.
“Almost done,” Daisy said.
“Here, let me help. What are your plans tonight?”
“Just taking a shower, then a good book, or a movie.”
“You should go out for a while.”
“Mom, I don’t do the whole going out thing. Especially alone.”
Janie shrugged. “Well, then go visit a cousin or something. Get out of the house for a while. Have some girl talk.”
Daisy thought about Analise. But Analise would be trying to put Harley to bed and her visit would just get in the way. But Emmalyn didn’t have kids. “You know what? Maybe I’ll go pay Emmalyn a visit.”
“That’s a great idea,” Janie said.
~~~
Emmalyn rested on her knees beside the toilet. Her arms were draped around the seat and her head rested on her arm as she tried to catch her breath.
“Em, you alright, baby?” Barron asked.
She didn’t lift her head, but she did lift a hand and flip him off.
Barron chuckled. “Can I get you anything at all?”
“Leave me alone,” she managed to force out between deep breaths.
“I’ll be right out here. Just let me know when you need help, okay?”
“It’s not supposed to be like this,” she said shakily.
“What’s wrong?” Bam asked, sticking his head in the door to see how his youngest was doing. “I’ll just heal her.”
“No!” Emmalyn exclaimed.
“She’s throwing up, honey. I told you that already. It’s morning sickness,” Everly said, appearing behind Bam and peeking into the bathroom from the small opening between the door frame and Bam’s side.
“It’s nighttime! It can’t be morning sickness,” Bam said.
“Go away!” Emmalyn begged mournfully. “Why does everyone want to talk to me when I can’t stop gagging? Just let me be quiet!” she whined.
“Alright, everyone go back in the living room. I got this,” Barron said firmly, but respectfully.
“Come on, hon. Barron’s right. Let’s go back in the living room and allow him to take care of his mate,” Everly said.
“Better him than me,” Bam said, allowing Everly to take him back to the living room. “She’s mean.”
“What does that mean?” Emmalyn demanded, her head finally coming up off her arm to glare in the direction her father went. “I am not mean! I’m sick and I’m exhausted, and I’m throwing up!”
“Means nothing. You see me? I’m right here. Whatever you need. Whatever you want, I got you. All you need to worry about is where I am and what you need next,” Barron said, smiling lovingly at Emmalyn as he stroked an errant sweaty tendril of hair out of her face and tucked it back behind her ear.
Emmalyn pouted a bit, then swiped at her ponytail holder. “I need a softer ponytail holder. This one pulls. And I need some frozen grapes. The green ones. And I need some fried oysters and fried yellow squash.”
“Okay. I can do all that. I even have some grapes frozen already because you liked them so much yesterday.”
“You do?”
“Of course, I do. Who else is going to know what you want before you want it?”
“Nobody,” she said, laying her head back on her arm with a tired sigh.
“You ready to get up yet?”
“I’m not sure I can. I’m so tired. I’m so sick. I’m so tired of being sick. All I do is throw up and lean on the toilet. Why is it like this?”
“Baby, you’re growing a baby. You’ve been sitting here throwing up sporadically for three days. You’re allowed to be tired and you’re allowed to be grumpy and exhausted.”
“I’d like to go in the living room and lie on the sofa, but what if I need to throw up all of a sudden?”
“Then I’ll rush you in here. If I’m too slow, I’ll just clean it up.”
“I feel like I ran a marathon.”
“Come on, let me get you up and into the living room. Then I’ll take care of everything else you want, alright?”
“I need ketchup for the fried squash and oysters.”
“I already have it added to the list in my head.”
She raised her arms to loop around Barron’s neck as he lifted her from the floor. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’ve spent more than half the last three days with the toilet. I think it’s time to call somebody about the extreme morning sickness.”
“I don’t have morning sickness. I just have sickness. All damn day and night. Daddy’s right.”
“When did this start?” Everly asked as Barron carried Emmalyn into the living room and laid her in her favorite spot on the sofa.
“About three days ago. All day, everyday, and all night.”
“I’ll call the doctor,” Everly said. “This is not normal.”
Barron stopped and looked over at Everly. “How not normal?”
“Some women are very, very sick. They end up having to be hospitalized. I don’t think it’s that bad, but if we don’t do something to stop the nausea it could be.”
“If you could call while I take care of getting her the other things she wants, that’d be great,” Barron said.
Everly took out her phone and started scrolling through her contacts. “You’re still seeing Dr. Boynton, aren’t you?”
“Yes, just saw him again last week,” Emmalyn said, gratefully accepting the overly fluffy blanket from Barron as he walked back into the living room and started arranging it over and around her.
“I brought this scrunchy. How’s this one? Soft enough?” Barron asked, holding out an over sized scrunchy covered in velvet for her to see.
“Yeah,” she said, taking it from him and looping it quickly around her hair. “That’s better,” she said, resting her head on the throw pillow he offered her.
“I’ll get you some grapes,” Barron said, kissing her forehead before he hurried into the kitchen and came back with a Tupperware bowl full of frozen green grapes and a gumbo pot.
He handed her the grapes, then sat beside her, his hand on the bend of her knees, while Everly dealt with the nurses on the telephone.
“Why did you bring my gumbo pot?” Emmalyn asked.
“In case you have to throw up again,” Barron said.
“I’m going to need a new gumbo pot if I throw up in that one,” she said, eyeing the pot.
“I’ll buy you two. How are you feeling, Em?” Barron asked.
She ate another frozen grape and closed her eyes as she chewed. “Weak.”
“Yes, I understand that. But I’m here with her,” Everly said. Everly listened for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Hold on.” She held the phone out to Emmalyn who glared at it as she popped another grape into her mouth.
“I got it,” Barron said, taking the phone from Everly’s outstretched hand. “Hi, this is Barron Sanders. Emmalyn is having trouble. She’s been throwing up for about three days.”
He listened. Then his brows bunched up. “Yes, I’m aware that it’s to be expected.
But it’s not to be expected for sixty of those seventy-two hours.
She needs something for nausea so that she can at least rest. This is not standard morning sickness.
It’s sickness all the time. She hasn’t slept in three days, she hasn’t eaten anything except frozen grapes in three days, and even those come back up.
Do something!” he snarled into the phone.
Everly raised her brows with a smirk and caught Bam’s gaze who was grinning ear-to-ear. “I think he’s got it covered,” she whispered.
Bam nodded and headed into the kitchen to start cooking the oysters and squash he heard Emmalyn ask for.
“Fine. Thank you. And if my mother-in-law contacts you again, I give you permission to give her any information she wants, or do whatever she asks. She’s trying to help me take care of her daughter,” he snapped.
He ended the call and handed the phone back to Everly.
“They said they’re calling in something to the pharmacy for the nausea, but if it hasn’t stopped by this evening, she might have to go to the hospital to get an IV so she doesn’t dehydrate. ”
“I’m not dehydrated,” Emmalyn said.
“You might be. It could be why you feel so weak,” Bam said.
“You think so?” Emmalyn asked.
“I think so,” Everly said.
“Me, too,” Barron said. “Eat those grapes. Anything else you want?”
“Squash and oysters.”
“I’m on it,” Bam said.
“How about some watermelon? You love watermelon,” Everly said.
Emmalyn shook her head and while still chewing rested her head on the throw pillow again. She swallowed and popped another into her mouth.
The sound of a knife hitting a chopping board had her opening her eyes and focusing on her father standing across the large open living room and kitchen as he sliced yellow squash. “Thank you, Daddy,” she said.
“You’re welcome, baby. I didn’t know you’d been so sick.”
“It’s okay.” She ate another grape and let her eyes fall closed again.
“How long before the prescription is ready?” Everly asked.
“Probably about an hour. They’re phoning it into the pharmacy at the grocery since it’s almost 8:00 P. M. They’re only open until 10:00 P. M., so it’ll at least be done by then,” Barron said.
“Alright. I’m going to run get it. With me standing there, they’ll hurry up if it’s not ready when I get there,” Everly said.
“Appreciate it,” Barron said.
“Get some more yellow squash, too. I’m frying everything they have so she’ll have it when she wants it,” Bam said.
“And oysters. I’ll get more of those, too. But don’t fry them until Emmalyn’s ready to eat them. They’re not good leftover,” Everly said.