Page 31 of Healed
“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, andeven 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.
“Got it,” Bam said, opening and closing cabinets until he found the fish fry to batter the oysters, and the flour and seasoning to put in it for battering the squash.
“Some fruit juice Popsicles,” Barron said.
