Page 5 of Puck Block

“Okay, boys. We are gonna need your help,” Mary-Ann says. “Since Dr. McCarthy doesn’t want Taytum to drive, you may need to step up.”

“We can do that,” I discreetly look past the phone and notice the tiniest crevice in between Taytum’s eyebrows. I knew she was awake.

“And we need to talk her into the glucose monitoring system. It will automatically track her sugar.”

“Maybe then she’ll take it more seriously if she knows she can’t lie about it,” Emory grumbles.

Mary-Ann sighs through the phone. “Emory, have some compassion. This whole thing is a learning curve, and her life has been turned upside down.”

The memory of Taytum in the hospital this summer still makes my heart finicky. I blame it on the fact that hospitals are a trigger to me, but that isn't the only reason I get sick to my stomach with the thought.

I take my hand and rub it over my face as Mary-Ann continues on with our newjob.“She simply cannot drive right now, and I want you to watch her at dance practice when you can...” There’s a pause. “Just in case.”

Oh, she’ll just love that.

The beeping noise that’s been faint since the moment I stepped into the hospital room is gaining more traction. I flick my attention past the little divot carved into Taytum’s forehead and watch her heart rate join the party. I creep toward the machine and put my back to it. In an attempt to de-escalate the rising tension and Taytum’s distress, I crack a joke.

“I can quit hockey and take up dancing. I’ll twirl beside Taytum and be the star of the show. That way, I can keep an extra-close eye on her.”

Emory rolls his eyes and ignores me–per usual–but the worry line in between Taytum’s closed eyes smooths.

Mary-Ann laughs quietly, but then she starts back up again. “Part of me wants to try to convince her to move home for a while. I’m sure the school would understand and put a pause on her scholarship.”

The beeping behind my back fires up, and I count backward in my head.3, 2, 1…

“That is completely unnecessary!”

I turn my head and can’t help my smirk.

Taytum is in all her glory, commanding the room with her angry little scowl and flushed cheeks.

I won’t admit it out loud, but it’s highly amusing.

[ 3 ]

TAYTUM

One lookat my brother from across the room, and my pulse is hovering somewhere in between threatening and deadly.

“You don’t get an opinion in this discussion.” Emory, who takes up nearly the entire doorway with his wide shoulders and haughty chest, rolls his eyes.

“Excuse me?” I shriek.

I glance at Ford when I hear a chuckle. We make eye contact, and he raises an eyebrow, angling his body slightly before tipping his chin to the machine I’m hooked up to. I can read Ford’s mind like it’s my own at the moment.Right, calm down.If my blood pressure rises and causes some crazy alert on the monitor, everyone will come rushing into my room, and I’m already feeling suffocated.

“Honey, I agree. You’re being stubborn, and you make poor decisions. Not to mention, you’re still learning about this disease. We all are.”

If I were a child, I’d cross my arms and stand up to stomp my foot just to get my point across. But I’m in my twenties, which is all the more reason why Ishouldget a say in the matter.

I hold my hand out, and Emory sighs before walking over and placing the phone in my palm.

“Mom—” I start, but she cuts me off right away.

“No, Taytum.” There's instantly a pain in between my breastbone from the concern in her voice. The only sound in the room is the incessant heart monitor behind Ford. “I will not lose you to your own defiance.”

“You’re not going to lose me. I know my own body,” I try to reassure her. “I’m not moving home. I’m fine–”

“You are not fine, Taytum Elizabeth Olson!”

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