Page 57 of Pucking Strong

“I said no.”

“Pull up a chair. Hey, do you have any shark floaties I can borrow?”

“Good night, Teddy,” I say more forcefully, shutting the door as I leave.

“Morbror?” The baby monitor on my bedside table crackles, waking me up. A soft voice echoes around my room. “Morbror? Jag behöver hjälp.”

I sit up, rubbing my face.

Oh fuck.

Realizing where I am and why, I lunge for the monitor. Karro’s awake. Poor thing is probably as jet-lagged as we are. I don’t know what she’s saying in Swedish, but I imagine it likely has something to do with using the bathroom.

Ignoring my own call of nature, I shrug on a T-shirt and hurry from my room, leaving the monitor on the dresser. I trot through the kitchen and weave around the sofas in the living room. Ducking down the hall, I stop in her doorway to see Henrik already in her room. He’s crouching down beside her bed. They talk softly in Swedish. He pets her messy blonde hair as he helps her sit up.

“Hey,” I say, stepping into the room. “Need any help?”

“I think we’re fine.” Henrik shifts her to the side of the bed. He uses the technique I taught him in Sweden to keep her ribs from twisting. Then he’s helping her shimmy up her nightdress and positioning the bed pan for her.

“I can help you get her to the bathroom,” I offer. “Less chance of a mess.”

“I have this,” he replies. “Thank you, Teddy.”

Feeling dismissed, I step out of the room and make my way back to the kitchen. Determined to do something helpful, I start on breakfast.

I’ve chopped up fruit and veggies for smoothies and I’m in the middle of frying a couple eggs when Henrik comes into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” he asks, heading for the coffee maker.

“Making us breakfast. You want two eggs or three?”

“I already ate.”

I peer around at the spotless kitchen. “When?”

“I’ve been up since five,” he replies. “In truth, I never really slept.”

I wiggle the eggs a little with the spatula, unsticking them from the bottom of the pan. “More nightmares?”

He just shrugs, clicking on the coffee maker.

“How’s our girl doing?”

He rustles around in the cabinet above the coffee maker. “She says her leg is hurting her more today than yesterday. Is that normal?”

I flip the eggs, trying my best not to overcook them. “Pain is normal. Some days it may feel achy, like a deep throbbing. Other days it might feel sharp and sort of piercing. The good thing is that these are all healing pains. We can up her meds a little today if you want, just as she’s still transitioning and getting on a new sleep schedule. But it’s important we start to wean her off the hard stuff. How many eggs will she eat?”

“None.”

“What?”

“She doesn’t like eggs.”

I look down at the eggs frying in the pan. “Well, I guess these are all for me then.”

“Sorry, I should have told you.”

“It’s no problem.” Using the spatula, I scrape the fried eggs onto a plate. “Maybe we should make a list of foods she does like to eat, just so I know for the future.”

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