Chapter 18

Eighteen

Gemma

S taring at the flashing number on the thermometer in my hand, I breathe out a groan, realizing my fever hasn’t gone down at all. I feel like absolute shit, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I felt fine yesterday, but when I woke up this morning, my body felt achy, and I’ve had a fever all damn day. And then a few hours ago, I got a super uncomfortable pain in my lower back and my abdomen.

I don’t get it, but nothing is helping. Not ice, not a heating pad, not ibuprofen. My appetite is nonexistent. Sutton was a sweetie and brought me a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a stack of saltine crackers, but that was an hour ago, and it’s now sitting cold on my nightstand where he left it for me before he went to play catch with Everett.

Tossing the thermometer on the bathroom counter, I pad back into my bedroom, glancing at the clock on the wall. I should go check on Sutton; I feel bad knowing that he may be keeping Everett from doing things he needs to do. It’s not his responsibility to watch my child, but fuck, the idea of even walking to the front porch seems like the hardest task in the world. My head feels like it’s blanketed in a thick fog and my body can’t make up its mind on whether it’s hot or cold. I’m down to a tank top and a pair of shorts, yet my entire back is drenched with sweat and my flesh is covered in goosebumps.

With a shaky hand, I bring the glass of water up to my mouth, taking a much-needed sip, the cool liquid feeling great going down my dry throat.

Okay . I’ll go check on Sutton really quick, make sure he isn’t bothering Everett or getting in the way of him doing anything, and then I’ll… I don’t know, figure something out for dinner for him. It’s already almost six in the evening, and he’d usually have eaten by now.

Halfway down the hall, I realize I should probably fix my hair. It’s flopping to the side in yesterday’s bun, and knowing that Everett is out there, I don’t really want him to see me like that. I stop in the bathroom near the kitchen, pull the hair tie out from my ratty hair before throwing it back up in another bun, this time in the center of my head.

I take in my reflection, noticing how pale I look. The bags under my eyes are much more prominent today too. Lovely. I hope whatever this is goes away by morning. I don’t have time to be sick. Just as I’m about to walk out of the bathroom, the ache in my abdomen comes back with a vengeance, taking my breath away as I hold on to the counter for support .

Fuck! What the hell is going on?

Breathing through my nose, I wait for it to pass. It’s been doing this all afternoon. Sharp, throbbing pain that knocks the wind right out of me. This one lasts longer than the previous ones, but after a minute or so, it subsides, and I finally let out the deep breath I’d been holding.

It’s okay; I’m fine. Snap out of it, Gemma.

I leave the bathroom and amble toward the front door. Stepping onto the porch, I find the two of them sitting together on the bottom step.

“Hey,” I croak as they both turn around to look up at me.

“Mom!” Sutton stands up, an empty plate in his hands. “Are you feeling better?”

I laugh dryly, the sound hoarse to my ears, a sharp pain stabbing me right in my side as I do it. “Not really, buddy, but it’s okay.”

Everett stands too, concern furrowing his brow. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” I quickly get out, the pain in my side not subsiding.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Gee, thanks.” I try to laugh again, but it’s a mistake. “Fuck,” I grunt, hand flying out to Everett’s forearm for support because it feels like my knees are going to buckle.

Stepping closer to me, Everett murmurs quietly, “Gemma, you are not fine.” He brings a hand up to my forehead. “You’re burning up. How long has this been going on?”

“Mom? ”

The worry in my son’s voice makes my chest squeeze. “Honey, I’m okay.” I reach up and cup his face, trying to relay to him with my eyes that he doesn’t need to worry. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Yeah.”

“We had a frozen pizza and the rest of the watermelon I had in my fridge,” Everett explains.

“Thank you. You didn’t need to do that.”

“I don’t mind. We were playing ball, and I was hungry so we ate.”

Nausea churns in my gut as the throbbing ache intensifies. It’s like fire ripping through the lower half of my stomach; it brings tears to my eyes.

Everett glances at Sutton. “Hey, bud, why don’t you take these plates into my house and put them in the sink. Can you do that for me?”

“Sure.” Sutton takes the plate from Everett’s hand before disappearing across the yard.

“Where’s the pain?” he asks me as soon as my son is out of earshot.

“It’s nothing, Everett. I’m fi?—”

“You’re not fine, Gemma,” he grits through his teeth, cutting me off. “Your face is twisted in pain, you’re holding on to my arm for dear life, and you’re clutching at your side. Tell. Me. What’s. Wrong.”

I look up, meeting his gaze, concern written all over his features, from his pinched brows to his down-turned mouth and hard jawline. “It’s my stomach,” I finally admit. “It hurts, and I don’t understand why.”

“Where exactly?” he asks. “Where your hand is right now? ”

I nod, a whimper falling off my lips as the pain hits me again. “I think something’s wrong, Everett.”

“I think it’s your appendix,” he announces, gaze finding mine again. “Where are your shoes and purse? I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“What?” Panic rises in my chest. “No, no. That’s not necessary.”

“Yes, it is. If I’m right, your appendix could burst, and that would be ten times worse. Tell me where your stuff is so I can grab it for you.”

“But Sutton.”

“He can come with us. Now, where?”

Just then, my son comes back around the corner, and I can tell he already knows something isn’t right.

“Mom? What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to be okay,” I say, trying to reassure him. “But I think we gotta go get Mom checked out.”

“Can you run in the house and get your mom’s purse?” Everett asks before looking at me. “Are your insurance cards in there?”

I nod. Sutton gives a clipped dip of his chin before brushing past me into the house.

“Okay, and your shoes?”

“Just right inside by the door.”

Moving my hand off his forearm to the wood banister, Everett says, “Hold on to this for support. I’ll be right back.”

A few moments later, he’s helping me slip my Birkenstocks on my feet, and I can’t help but wallow in how fucking embarrassing this is. The last time he was over here was incredibly hot, and now he’s helping me put my shoes on because my stomach hurts too bad to even move.

“Got it!” Sutton announces as he rushes back onto the porch. “Grabbed your phone off the nightstand too.”

“Thanks, honey.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“No, but I will be. I promise. You don’t need to worry; the doctors will figure it out and make me all better.”

He doesn’t look like he believes me, but he doesn’t voice it. Instead, he nods, giving me a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Everett

“Here you go.”

Glancing up, I take the bottle of water being offered to me, smiling up at Grace. “Thanks.”

Taking a seat beside me, she sips her coffee. It’s been about an hour and a half since Sutton and I brought Gemma into the emergency room. Just as I thought, it was her appendix, and they had to rush her back into surgery to remove it. As soon as we got here, I called her family, letting them know what was going on and where we were.

They showed up almost immediately. Every last one of them.

I love how close they all are. How they are willing to drop everything they were doing to be here for her, no questions asked. The way they rally together and have no problem helping one another in times of need.

My stomach has been in knots since we got here, anxiously waiting for the doctor to come out and tell us the surgery went fine. My eyes cut over to Sutton, and I imagine how worried he must feel too. The protectiveness I feel over both of them is something I don’t really know what to do with, but it seems so natural.

Taking a drink of my water, my eyes lift when I notice Gemma’s mom heading my way. She smiles as her gaze meets mine, but her eyes are tired. It is pretty late, and it was probably terrifying getting a call that one of your kids is being rushed into surgery.

“How are you doing, dear?” she asks, taking a seat beside me.

Smiling back, I say, “I’m okay. How are you, though?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” She waves me off. “Gemma’s a strong one, I know she’ll be okay. I’m just thankful that she had you so close, and you were able to bring her in.” Her eyes, the same deep brown as her daughter’s, soften as they meet mine. “Thank you, Everett.”

My throat tightens, a wave of emotion I wasn’t expecting hitting me. Gemma’s father came over to me when they first got here and shook my hand, also thanking me for bringing his daughter in. “It was no problem, ma’am. Anybody would’ve done the same thing.”

Raising her eyebrows, she hits me with a look I can’t quite decipher. “Yes, well, my daughter and grandson seem to be quite fond of you, and that makes me happy. It’s been quite some time since Gemma opened herself up to anybody other than family. So, thank you for that, too. I sure hope we get to see more of you.”

With that, she doesn’t wait for a response before she gets up. “I’m going to get some coffee, dear. Would you like some?”

“No, ma’am. Thank you, but I’ve got water.”

When her family first got here, after we all found out Gemma was going back for surgery, Grace told me about how Blakely had to have her tonsils removed when she was younger. How Gemma, Georgia, and Graham all worked out a schedule amongst themselves to take Beau while his dad was out of town for work, clean Grace’s house, do her laundry, pre-make her freezer meals. She didn’t have to do a single thing except be there for Blakely as she was recovering.

They are the kind of family I’ve always wanted to have. The kind I dreamed about having as a kid.

They are how a family should be.

Beau and Blakely’s dad came to pick them up about forty-five minutes ago, and he offered to take Sutton, but he insisted on staying until he knew his mom was out of surgery. And frankly, I don’t blame him. If it were me and my mom, I would want to be here too.

It’s not too much longer before the doctor comes out and lets us know the surgery is done and it went well. Georgia takes Sutton back to see his mom quickly, even though she hasn’t woken up from anesthesia yet and probably won’t for a while. I could tell he was itching to at the very least lay eyes on her, so he could see for himself that his mom was okay .

When they come back out, Gemma’s parents go back next.

“It’s getting late,” Grace says, blowing out a breath as she stands up. “I gotta go pick the kids up from Ethan. He’s heading out of town bright and early in the morning for his job, and they’ve got school tomorrow.” Bringing a hand to Sutton’s shoulder, she adds, “Come on, sweetie. You can stay at my house tonight.”

He looks up at his aunt, then looks at me. “Can I go home with Everett?” he asks. “I want to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“I know you do, babe, but it’ll just be for a night or two.”

“He can,” I blurt, realizing I probably shouldn’t say this in front of him and get his hopes up, but it’s too late now. Grace flits her gaze over to me. “I mean, if it’s okay with you guys. I can take the couch at their place, and we’re going to the same place in the morning, so it would honestly be no trouble for me.”

Grace looks at me like she’s not sure what to do. She glances from me to Sutton, then back to me again. “Are you sure?” she mouths, probably not wanting Sutton to hear.

I breathe out a laugh through my nose as I nod. “It’s no trouble, I promise. Let me help you guys. I can swing by your place in the morning to take Beau and Blakely to school too if you want, so you can come back here first thing.”

Thinking for another moment, she finally gives me a clipped nod. “Okay. Thank you, Everett. You have my number now, right?”

“Yup. ”

“Okay, call if you need anything. And I’ll text you later with my address.”

As Sutton and I leave the hospital, I realize there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for this friend of mine who doesn’t really feel like just a friend if I’m being honest with myself. Taking Sutton home and making sure he makes it to school in the morning is the least I could do for Gemma right now. And I’m more than glad to do it.