Emma Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice (9 page)

But then my parents were at the door, and it wasn't cute.

“Jake, it's time for bed,” said my mother in her most no-nonsense voice.

“No!” he yelled.

Sam and I rolled our eyes at each other. Matt just kept watching the TV.

“Jacob William Taylor, it is time for bed and I do not want one peep out of you!” yelled my father in the scary voice he only uses about three times a year. “Now, march!”

We all know what that voice means, so Jake did as he was told, but reluctantly and very slowly.

“Let's go, pick up the pace,” ordered my father. Jake hurried up so slowly, it was hardly noticeable. My mom stood and watched, her arms folded tightly across her chest. My father hustled him along, out the door and up the stairs. My mom, meanwhile, collapsed onto the sofa next to me.

“I cannot wait for this to be over.” She sighed.

I patted her arm. “Poor Mama,” I said.

“Listen, guys—Hey, Sammy, mute the TV for a second, okay? Matt? Matt?” She reached out and
tapped his leg, and he jumped. “Earphones off, honey, just for a minute.”

Matt lifted the headphones off his head and put them in his lap.

“Okay, here's the plan for tomorrow. Dad and Jake and I are leaving very early for the hospital in the morning. You'll have to fend for yourselves, so please make sure your alarms are set, and first one up, wake up the others, just in case. There's cereal for breakfast or whatever you want to make; just please don't leave the kitchen a mess. Jake heads in at nine for the surgery. It should take about an hour. We'll text you when it's all over and let you know how it goes. There's a very slight possibility they'll keep him overnight, in which case Dad or I will come home, grab a bag, and go back to stay with him. I'm bringing a bag for him, anyway, just in case.”

“Oh, I have something for him. Can I put it in the bag?” asked Sam.

“Sure. That's nice of you, honey,” she said.

Sam hopped up and went to get it.

“I have something for him too,” said Matt, and he left the room.

I looked at my mom. “I don't have anything!” I admitted guiltily.

“Oh, honey, you do so much for him. Don't worry. Anyway, now he has that little bear that he loves from Dr. Brown's office. He wouldn't have had that if it wasn't for you. Same with the cute T-shirt from the girls.”

“And don't forget the vampire cupcakes!” I chimed in.

My mom put her head in her hands. “How could I forget the vampire cupcakes! My rug will never forget the vampire cupcakes either!”

Sam reappeared with a card that said “JAKE” on the front of the envelope.

“That's so thoughtful, Sammy,” said my mom.

“They're passes for the movie theater. I said I'll take him next week when he feels up to it.”

“What a great idea!” said my mom.

Then Matt came back. He had done a clumsy wrapping job on some sort of spherical object. “Here. It's a baseball. I also stuck in a coupon good for one hour of playing catch with me.”

My mom reached out and grabbed Matt for a kiss on the cheek. “Wonderful. You boys are so thoughtful. I'm proud of you,” she said, smiling.

“What did you get him, Em?” asked Sam with a proud smirk.

“Nothing,” I said, my shoulders sagging.

“It's not too late!” said Sam. “Want me to run you down to the drugstore?” Sam's got a new used car that he bought from a friend, so he's always offering to drive people places.

“That's so lame! What would I get him? Something to gargle with afterward?”

Matt smiled.

“Emma, don't be ridiculous. You're not running out at nine o'clock at night to get Jake a present. You've done more than enough for him. If you really feel like you want to give him something, I have a new pack of markers and a fresh pad of drawing paper I was saving to give him at the hospital tomorrow. Why don't I say it's from you?”

“Fine. Thanks,” I said. “I still feel lame.”

“Oh boy. I'm going to bed!” said my mom, standing up. “I'll be upstairs, and I want you guys in bed at the regular time. I know tomorrow's a Friday, but you've got to get some rest too, okay?”

“Night, Mama,” I said, reaching up for a hug. She kissed my head and then the boys', and she left.

“Slacker,” Matt said to me as soon as she was gone.

“Shush!” I said, and I unmuted the game.

I
was sound asleep and dreaming that little frogs were hopping up my arms. Only it wasn't a dream. I opened my eyes, and the frogs weren't frogs but Jake's fingertips, patting up and down my arm to wake me up. And Jake's face was about three inches from mine, his sleepy little boy breath right in my nose.

“Jake! What time is it?” I bolted upright, avoiding Jake's head by a millimeter, and looked at the clock. Three in the morning! “What's the matter?” I asked urgently.

“Emmy, I'm scared,” said Jake. “Can I come in bed with you?”

“Did you wet the bed?” I asked. Sometimes that happens, and I didn't want a wet kid in my bed. Gross.

“No. I'm dry. I'm just really, really scared,” he said. And, in fact, he sounded it.

I didn't hesitate. “Sure,” I said, holding up my duvet so he could scramble in.

“Mmm, it's so warm in here!” he said.

“That's because I was asleep!” I retorted, wanting to be asleep again.

Jake snuggled in next to me. “Thanks, Emmy,” he said sleepily. “I don't want to go tomorrow.”

“I know,” I said.

“It's going to hurt,” he said.

“I know,” I replied. (What could I do? Lie?)

“I wish I didn't have to do it,” he confessed.

“I know,” I said, yawning.

“Would you do it if you were me?” he asked quietly.

“Mm-hmm,” I said.

“Yes?” he asked in a tiny voice.

“Yes,” I said, and although I wanted to drift back to sleep, suddenly my brain was wide awake, and I was starting to worry. It was like Jake passed his worry off to me, so he could go to sleep and I'd stay up and do the worrying!

Here's the thing: My mom said the surgery was routine and easy, but . . . My stomach clenched as I played out worst-case scenarios in my mind.

Also, the truth is, I lied to Jake. I wouldn't have been brave enough to get the operation myself. I would be so scared of the needles and the blood and the knocking out that I would rather live with the sore throats and ear infections for the rest of my life than get the operation, and that was pretty sad. So after worrying about Jake for a while, I started to worry about myself! Like, what if I needed an operation one day or some kind of medical procedure? What would I do? I tossed and turned for another hour or so, and then I must've drifted off because suddenly I heard my parents going through the house whisper-shouting, “Jake! Jake! Where are you?”

Jake was still in bed with me, but he had pulled the covers up over his head. I lifted them off his face, and he was staring at me wide-eyed with fear. I couldn't bear to rat him out, but luckily my mom opened the door and said, “Emma, honey! Have you seen . . . Oh, Jake! There you are!” He was busted.

“No! No! No! No! No!” Jake started to yell.

My dad came into the room and hauled Jake out of my bed and then out of my room to get on his clothes. He shut the door behind him, but Jake's yelling continued. Sam and Matt were surely awake by now too.

“You're a good big sister, Em,” said my mom. She smoothed my hair back from my face and bent to kiss me on the forehead.

“I feel terrible for the little guy,” I said.

“I know. Me, too,” agreed my mom.

“Does he really have to get it?” I whispered.

“Yes,” my mom said with a sigh. “Wish us luck.”

“Luck!” I said, blowing her a kiss.

She opened the door to leave, and I could hear Jake screaming, “Emma! Emma!”

“Oh, Mama! Poor Jake!” I wailed. Jake's screams cut through me like a knife.

Suddenly, Jake flew back through my door and into my bed. He was dressed (in his officer T-shirt the girls had given him, of course, and the hoodie my mom had gotten him at Matt's game), but hysterically crying. “Emma! Help me! Help, Emmy! Keep me here with you!”

My dad stood in the doorway, his hands jammed deep into his pockets, his face red with exertion.

“Jacob!” he bellowed.

“I don't know, honey,” my mom said to my dad. “Maybe . . .”

“We're going,” said my dad definitively.

Suddenly, I had an idea. “Mom. Why don't I come with you? I have nothing at school today. No
tests, nothing. And I haven't missed one day yet this year!”

“Oh, Emma . . . ,” said my mom.

But Jake stopped crying, like someone had just turned off a faucet. “Yes. Emma's coming with me!” he yelled. He wasn't exactly cheery, but it was like he seized on the idea for some reason and now he started to beg. “Please, Mom, let Emmy come!”

“Fine, but let's go!” snapped my dad.

My mom and I looked at each other and shrugged. I hopped out of bed, grabbing Jake by the shoulders. “No more nonsense, okay? If you start this up again, I won't come, do you understand?”

He sniffled and nodded.

“Even at the hospital!” I said firmly.

He nodded again, and then he grabbed me into a hug. “Oh, Emma! I love you!”

“Love you too, buddy, now get out so I can change.”

He left, and I whipped off my pj's and threw on some sweats and a soft T-shirt, plus a pair of cushy socks and my slides. I jammed a couple of books into my backpack and grabbed my phone from the charger.

In the hall I ran into Matt stumbling sleepily to the bathroom.

“Sorry, gotta go first!” I said, ducking in front of him.

“What?” said Matt crankily. “Why?”

“Going to the hospital with Jake,” I said, closing the door on Matt's face.

“You're skipping school?” demanded Matt, pounding on the door.

“Sor
ry
! Someone's in here!” I singsonged back.

He pounded the door once more, hard, and I jumped. Then I heard him trudging down the hall to my parents' bathroom, calling “Unfair!” over his shoulder. I smiled at myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth, but my smile faded as I pictured being back at the hospital. Mind over matter. The five
D
s. Mona. Diego. Divine. I took a deep breath to relax, but I was spitting out my toothpaste at the same time, causing me to nearly choke to death.

Okay, deep breathing when I get there,
I told myself.

Down in the kitchen, Jake was on a new tirade because he couldn't find his officer bear to bring with him. My mom had run up to look through his room and mine, but no luck. My dad was ready to explode and had dragged Jake off to the minivan to wait for us while my mom shouted after him with promises of new toys from the gift shop.

My mom turned to me then and said, “Emma, we don't have time to eat. Dad will get you something at the hospital, but I don't think it's fair if we eat in front of Jake, since he can't. Why don't you grab something quick, like a yogurt, and you can eat it in the bathroom there or something, where Jake can't see you.”

“Okay,” I said, and instead of the fridge, I went to the drawer my mom stocks with cereal bars, so we can just grab them when we're heading out for sports or if we're late for school or something. I pulled it open, and there was the officer bear lying in the drawer.

“Mom,” I called, and when she looked over at me, I wiggled the bear at her.

“Oh my goodness, Emma. What would we do with out you?” she asked, exhaling heavily. She put her hands palms down on the counter and bent her head for a moment. She was wiped out.

I grabbed a couple of cereal bars and tossed them into my backpack, then I went over and rubbed my mom's back.

“Thanks, honey. Let's go,” she said, straightening up and grabbing her purse. “Oh, Emma?” She stopped in her tracks. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I don't want you to feel railroaded
into something you're not comfortable with. I mean, it's generous of you and everything, but you're not going to . . . ?”

“I'm not going to faint, Mom. I promise,” I said solemnly. Inside, though, I hoped I could keep that promise. Gulp.

“Good,” said Mom. “Because I can only handle one kid losing it at a time.”

Out in the car, Jake was buckled into his booster seat in the back. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, but at least he wasn't actively crying or shrieking for the moment. It seemed like he acted worse when he thought he had a chance to get out of something, but once he knew he was sunk for sure, he'd just kind of mellow out.

“Hey, buddy,” I said, climbing in. I handed him the bear.

“Emmy! Where did you find him?” he asked, hugging the bear.