Emma's Not-So-Sweet Dilemma (2 page)

“I'm hoping we'll find some cute things at the holiday boutique,” said Mia.

The boutique is an annual tradition. It's held in the basement of our local Y, and lots of vendors come from all around with beautiful, mostly handmade and one of a kind items that make great holiday gifts. Candles, potpourri, customized stationery, needlepoint canvases and yarn, hand-knit scarves and gloves, fabric coin purses, special chocolates, fudge, and more. We would be selling cupcakes this year at a table in the refreshments area on the opening Saturday of the fair. It was a pretty big honor to be asked to participate, and that's why we wanted our holiday-themed cupcakes to be special.

While we chatted about who was on our lists to buy holiday gifts for (my list had my brothers, my parents, Mona, and the Cupcakers, of course!), the cupcakes came out of the oven, and Mia turned them upside down on wire racks to cool. Meanwhile, Katie carefully tipped three or four drops of green food coloring into the cream cheese frosting, then mixed it until it came out a delicate green.

I set the bowl of chopped pistachios next to the icing, and we were ready to frost. Just then, the boys came swarming back though the kitchen.

“Yum! Mia! Can I have a cupcake now? Pretty pleeeeease?” begged Jake.

Mia crouched down, looking at him with sorrow, and said, “They're not ready yet, Jake! We're going to frost them, and then you can have a couple, okay?”

“One!” I said sternly.

“But we're going outside now, to play football . . . ,” pressed Jake.

“I'll bring them out to you. Now, shoo! Be gone!” I whisked them out the back door before my co-clubbers had a chance to offer any more free food to them. I shut the back door hard and could hear the boys laughing outside. “Scoundrels!” I scoffed.

“You know you're lucky to have them, Em,” said Mia, laughing.

“Yes, I would love to live with Matt,” joked Alexis.

I rolled my eyes.

Katie said, “It's nice to have such good eaters around, anyway. When I bake at home, my mom might try a tiny bite, and even if she loves it, she doesn't have more. These guys go crazy for what we make.”

“I guess,” I said.

“Come on, they're not that bad,” said Mia. “Remember the time Matt made those flyers for us on his computer?”

“Yeah,” agreed Alexis. “And how he always picks hanging with us over the so-called popular girls?”

“And the time Sam drove us to the mall to get your bridesmaid dress . . .”

“Which Matt paid for!”

I put up my hands, giggling. “All right, all right. I surrender. They're not that bad. They're pretty good, actually.”

We were all laughing.

“Now fork over some of them cupcakes, and I'll bring them out,” I joked to Katie.

Smiling, she frosted six, and Mia sprinkled them
with the nuts. I put them on a plate and headed out the back door, calling, “Cupcakes! Come and get 'em!” to the boys.

But just as I rounded the corner, tragedy struck.

Tragedy in the form of a very large, very hard, very out-of-control football.

It hit me square in the nose, and I remember an instant shock and pain, and that's all.

I
came to on the sofa in the TV room, with everyone gathered anxiously around me. I wasn't sure where I was at first. People around me were speaking in hushed voices.

“Her eyes are open!”

“She's awake!”

“Okay, okay, shh. Shh, everyone.” My mom sat forward and smoothed back my hair, looking at me carefully as she lifted a cold compress from my face.

“Oh no!” cried Jake.

I sat up quickly, but my mom pushed me back gently. “Stay put. Just rest.”

“What happened? Ow!” I moaned. My face was throbbing, and it felt hot and kind of tight.
I reached up a hand to gingerly touch my nose. “This kills.”

“Emmy! I'm so sorry! I threw it! It's all my fault!” Jake wailed, in floods of tears now.

“Stop crying!” Matt said sharply. “This isn't about you!” He looked scared himself.

Jake tried to calm down, but tears kept streaming down his cheeks and he hiccupped. He had obviously been crying hard for some time.

“How did I get here?” I asked, looking around. Everyone's face was superworried, especially the Cupcakers.

“You were coming out with the cupcakes, and we were having a contest to see who could throw the ball the hardest and Jake was just taking his turn. It hit you square on the bridge of your nose,” said Sam. “I'm so sorry.”

“Oh no!” I groaned. “Is it broken?”

“I don't think so,” said my mom. With me having three brothers, she's seen a lot of injuries. “I'm more worried about you losing consciousness. We've got to go see the doctor and make sure it's not a concussion. I already have a call in to him.”

“Wait, I blacked out?” I said. “I've never done that before.”

“We carried you in,” said Matt. “It was scary.”

“Thanks. Sorry.” I shrugged.

“We're not sure if you got knocked out or fainted from the pain. It makes a difference,” said my mom.

“Why?” asked Katie.

My mom tipped her head to the side. “If she only fainted from the shock, then it's a normal reaction to a trauma. But if the ball knocked her out, she might have a concussion, which is when the brain has been traumatized by the hit. It can be mild or severe, but it has to be handled carefully. Emma will need to lie low for a little while.”

“Is there a treatment for concussions?” asked Mia.

“Not really,” said Sam. “It's such a bummer. We had three kids sidelined from my soccer team this year with concussions. One guy—it was his second, so he can't play contact sports ever again.”

“Gosh,” Alexis said breathlessly. “Someone needs to invent something to prevent this. . . .”

“Sensing a business opportunity, Lex?” I tried to joke, but it hurt to even smile, so I stopped. My nose started to tickle a little from the laughing.

“Oh, she's bleeding again!” said Sam.

My mom dabbed at my nose with a wet paper towel. I could see that it already had quite a bit of blood on it. Looking at the towel made me feel a
little woozy. I can't deal with the sight of blood.

“Do you have a headache, sweetheart?” she asked.

“No, I have a nose ache,” I said.

“Do you feel queasy?”

“Not really.”

“Good,” said my mom, patting my arm.

“Can I look in a mirror?” I asked.

“No,” said everyone all at once. Then they laughed nervously, but I didn't.

“That bad, huh?” I asked.

The Cupcakers smiled supportively, but I caught Jake nodding before Matt spied him and quickly cuffed him on the back of his head. Then Jake started shaking his head.

“Oooh.” I groaned. “Good thing I don't have any modeling jobs lined up. Hey, how were the cupcakes?” I asked.

“We didn't have the stomach to try them . . . ,” explained Sam.

“I ate one! I thought it was delicious!” said Jake.

Mia smiled at him and gave him a sideways hug. “You're our best little customer, aren't you?”

He nodded, in heaven. “Can I have another?”

Mia laughed. “And an opportunist, too! Sure, come on, let's go get you another.”

“Hey, wait up!” called Sam. “Feel better, Em,” he said with a wink, and he headed into the kitchen.

Matt trailed behind them, and my mom went to call the doctor again. I was left with Alexis and Katie. “How bad is it?” I whispered, now kind of dreading seeing it.

“Oh, you know . . . ,” said Katie vaguely.

Alexis set her lips in a grim line. “You're going to look awful for a few days. But then it will be fine. No permanent damage.”

“Alexis!” said Katie, shocked at her bluntness.

“What?” said Alexis, huffy now. “It's true. Why should I lie to her?”

“Hey, no. It's fine. I wanted the truth,” I said. “It's better to know. I'll see it, anyway, sooner or later, right?” I reached up to try to feel around, and I could definitely feel the swelling all across my face. “Ugh.”

“Yeah, better if later,” agreed Alexis. “Rather than sooner, I mean.” She glanced guiltily at Katie, who just shook her head.

My mom came bustling back in. “Okay, the doctor can take a look at you if we head over now. Are you okay to try to sit up?”

I swung my legs over the side of the sofa and sat up tall, but I suddenly got a head rush, and
things were a little spinny for a minute. I glanced at my mom, and her face was really worried, so I tried to pull it together for her sake, anyway. I took a deep breath.

“Okay,” I said.

Soon I was up on my feet and walking a bit wobbly out to the car, the Cupcakers trailing behind.

“We'll just clean up here, then head out, so you can come home and rest,” said Alexis from the door.

“And we'll walk Jake to his playdate,” added Mia. My mom thanked her.

“No, feel free to stay. I won't be long.” We were supposed to head to Scoops ice-cream shop for grilled cheese and milk shakes later. “We can go after.”

Alexis grimaced. “I don't know if you're going to want to go out when you get back,” she said, shrugging helplessly.

I sat down in the backseat of the minivan. “Oh boy,” I said.

Alexis gave a sigh. “Just don't look in the mirror.”

She was right.

On the way to the doctor's I couldn't face my reflection. I was worried if it looked really bad, I
wouldn't want to get out of the car. The doctor was supernice, and he gave me all sorts of funny tests, asking me things like what the date was a week ago on Thursday and to do some simple puzzles and stuff, and he concluded that I did not have a concussion, which was my mom's main concern.

“The site of the impact is a factor,” he told my mom. “And noses absorb a lot of impact. Two inches higher . . .” And then he shrugged. “One thing's for sure, Emma. Your brain should be grateful to your nose. It really took one on the chin today!” Then he laughed at his own bad joke.

I smiled. “I guess,” I said. “But how bad is this nose going to look and for how long?” I tried not to whine, but I was worried.

He shook his head. “Hard to say. You'll probably reach maximum swelling through tomorrow, and then that will start to calm down, but don't be surprised when the black eyes appear tomorrow or the next day. Those can take a while to fade too.”

“Oh great,” I said sarcastically.

He looked at me sympathetically. “I know. It really is a drag, but it could have been a lot worse. Your nose didn't even break. You've been drinking your milk!”

He looked at his watch, and we all stood up.

Then he continued, “I'm very glad you don't have a concussion, Emma. I've had kids out of school for weeks because they'd get a migraine every time they looked at a white sheet of paper. And that meant while they were home, no TV, no computer, and no phone. Nothing to overstimulate or irritate the brain. Trust me, it's just awful. I hate to see it.”

“I know. I'm glad I avoided that too.”

“Just ice the nose a lot, drink tons of water, and take aspirin, and you'll be just fine.”

We thanked him and headed our separate ways.

In the car, my mom said, “Well, that's a relief.”

“I guess,” I said, lowering the visor and flipping open the mirror. I took a deep breath through my mouth and braced myself.

And then I took one look at my bashed-up face and burst into tears. It was awful. I had a huge bump across the bridge of my nose, and the skin was broken and bloody, and a huge dark blue bruise was smeared across my nose, and even starting under my eyes. But what was worse was the swelling. I looked like an alien. The center of my face, including my nose and the area between my eyebrows, was so swollen that the space between the inside corners of my eyes had doubled.