CHAPTER 41

As soon as the show ended, Mom turned off the TV...

...and we both looked down at Emma.

She was sleeping soundly, so I hated to disturb her...

...but unfortunately, I had to.

"Mom," I whispered, "I really need to pee!"

She nodded, then whispered back, "Just slide out from under her as carefully as you can."

And so, I did...

...but unfortunately, it woke up Emma...

...and almost immediately, her face contorted again and she wrapped both arms around her midsection.

"I'm sorry!" I told her. "Please, try to go back to sleep."

Five minutes later, as I returned from the bathroom, Mom was asking, "Did you take anything for it?"

"I took Addvil, a few hours ago, but it didn't make any difference at all."

Mom looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Would it help if I rub your tummy?"

Emma shrugged...

...but then, turned over on her back...

...and Mom said, "All right; we'll try it." Then, she added, "Scooch up this way, so I can reach."

She did, and Mom leaned down to help, until Emma's shoulders were up on her lap. Then she reached over and slid her hand down under Emma's heating pad, and began to gently caress her lower abdomen.

"Where does it hurt the worst?" she asked.

"It h-hurts everywhere," she sobbed.

A few minutes later, Emma closed her eyes and shook her head...

...and Mom said, "It's not helping? All right, let's see if we can figure out something else."

She thought it over, and then said, "There's one other thing we can try...but, we need to stand up for a minute."

After they did, Mom picked up one of our throw pillows and set it down on the center cushion of the couch. Then, she said to Emma, "What I want you to do is lie down, on your stomach, with this pillow directly under it."

Seeing Emma's look of alarm, she said, "I know that sounds painful, but it might actually help."

Emma looked scared as she stared down at it...

...but finally she got onto the couch, face down and stretched out, with her abdomen against the pillow.

Mom raised her up for a moment, and moved it down further; then she had Emma lie down flat again.

I watched her closely. She was breathing unevenly and looked like she was trying not to cry, and I could tell it was hurting her badly...

...but suddenly, her body sort of went limp against the couch, with her lower midsection draping itself over the pillow...

...and less than a minute later, I heard her moan, "Oh, thank God!"

Her expression looked much less pained, and Mom asked her, "Is that helping at all?"

Emma nodded and then, looking both confused and relieved, she said, "The pressure actually feels good...can I please stay here?"

Mom asked, "You mean sleep over tonight?"

Emma nodded.

"Yes. I'll go upstairs and put sheets on one of the guest room beds."

Emma shook her head. "No, I mean can I stay right here...just like this? It's the first time all day that I've..."

"You've been hurting this much all day?"

Emma nodded again.

"Yes, you can stay right here," Mom told her...

...but, as she began to walk away from the couch, Emma reached up and grabbed her hand.

When Mom saw the way Emma was looking up at her, she said, "Yes, of course, I'll stay with you. But first, I'm going to get you a pillow and blanket, then I'll sit here with you and we can talk for a little while, until you fall asleep. How does that sound?"

"Emma, can I stay, too?" I asked.

She looked over at me and said, "Yes, I want you to."

Mom turned to me and said, "Go put on your pajamas."

We went upstairs, and while listening to Mom go through our hall linen closet, I changed more quickly than I ever had before in my life.

I actually got downstairs before she did.

Setting the pillow and blanket down on the coffee table, Mom said, "Emma, before you go to sleep, why don't you go down the hall to the bathroom? There are pads under the sink."

Emma sat up...

...but hesitated for a long time, looking down at the floor, and finally said, "I...need one of my own."

I saw Mom's expression change, as she remembered that day at the pharmacy. She nodded, then picked up Emma's backpack and held it out to her.

Emma unzipped it, then reached inside...

...and as she pulled out one of her pads, my eyes grew wide.

That thing was enormous.

When she got up off the couch, Mom reached over and pulled the heating pad up out of her pants, saying, "You can have this again as soon as you come back."

Five minutes later, and still looking every bit as crampy, Emma returned from the bathroom. Right away, she lay down on the couch and stretched out on her back.

"Here's the heating pad," Mom said, holding it out to her...

...but instead of taking it from her hand, Emma looked up at the ceiling...

...and nodded.

Aww, she wants Mom to help her!

And so, Mom did...

...and, yes, I watched. I'm not going to pass up the rare chance to see Emma with her underpants pulled down (again).

Once it was in place, Mom had her stand up for a moment, and then she put the throw pillow back down on the center cushion...

...and as Emma lay face down on top of it, I heard her moan in pain again.

"I know it hurts," Mom told her, "but just breathe in and out, and try to let yourself relax against it."

I watched as Emma breathed raggedly, for nearly a minute, but finally her body went limp and draped itself over the pillow.

"That's right," Mom said, "just like that." She walked to the other side of the coffee table and brought back one of the Ottoman footstools. Setting it next to the center of the couch, she sat down on it.

I sat down at the bottom end of the couch and gently moved Emma's feet onto my lap.

"Would you like me to rub your back?" Mom asked.

Emma nodded.

With a smile, Mom said, "All right. How do you like your back rubs - over your shirt or under?"

"Under."

Mom put the bed pillow under Emma's head, then covered her with the blanket, up to her waist. Then she slid her hand under Emma's T-shirt and began to rub her back...

...and a minute later, I heard and felt Emma sigh.

Mom looked down at her and said, "All right, now what would you like to talk about?"

Emma thought it over, then said, "I was wondering...I was wonder-"

She yawned...

...and then closed her eyes.

Mom smiled and said to her, "Someone's getting sleepy. Why don't we talk another time, instead?"

Emma nodded...

...and Mom turned to me. "Alyssa, say goodnight to Emma."

I got up and walked to the other end of the couch, and then knelt down by Emma's head.

Even though it was the first time I'd ever done this in front of Mom, I was only nervous for a second. I leaned forward and kissed Emma's cheek...

...and then, she turned her face up toward me...

...but since her eyes were still closed, her kiss missed me completely, but I didn't mind.

I sat down on the arm of the couch, watching as Mom continued to rub Emma's back...

...until, after about ten minutes, her breathing evened out...

...and her facial features relaxed completely...

...and Mom's hand slowed gradually...

...finally coming to a complete stop.

Then she removed it from under Emma's shirt and pulled up her blanket...

...and the two of us stood there for a long time, looking down at Emma as she slept...

...until, finally, we quietly headed upstairs.

XXXXX

One of the things I love most about sleeping is the way my hyper, overly-active brain shuts down completely. But on this particular morning, I didn't mind that it interrupted the blessed nothingness by conjuring up a single, very welcome thought: there's no school today!

With my eyes still closed, I smiled widely, planning to spend most of the day right here, curled up under my covers, in a coma...

...so, you can imagine how annoyed I was when my body decided to rebel.

Damn!

I really need to pee!

Opening one eye, I glanced at the alarm clock.

6:52 A.M.

Well, all is not lost, I thought. I'm still incredibly sleepy, so when I get up and go to the bathroom, I'll try to move slowly and to not think about anything, which hopefully will keep this dense brain fog intact. That way, as soon as I come back to bed, I'll fall right back to sleep.

And so, I got out of bed very slowly, and did just that.

Fortunately, this plan was a great success, and a few minutes later I slid back under the covers with a sleepy, contented smile on my face.

Unfortunately, as soon as my head hit the pillow, my impending unconsciousness faced another challenge.

My stomach rumbled loudly.

I ignored it...

...and, determined to pass out again, closed my eyes.

But it started complaining again.

And then again.

Over and over.

"Shut the hell up," I murmured, "I'll feed you later."

In response, it began protesting even louder.

"No," I replied. "Not now...and I don't care how much you beg."

Well, my body did not appreciate being ignored...

...and promptly retaliated by gifting me with a screaming headache, accompanied by acute dizziness...

...and I realized that I needed food.

Immediately.

Unfortunately there were currently no snacks of any kind in my room, which meant I needed to go down to the kitchen.

CRAP!

However, maybe this won't be a total disaster, I reasoned. I'll just do what I did earlier: I'll move slowly and try not to think of anything, which probably will keep my brain fog intact again. I'll get this over with as quickly as possible, then I'll come straight back to bed and hopefully, fall asleep right away.

Ignoring my headache as best I could, I got out of bed again, light-headed this time...

...and not bothering with my bathrobe or slippers, I opened the door and listened.

There was complete silence coming from Mom's room.

Perfect.

Stepping out into the hall, I crept downstairs and into the kitchen...and then, paused to check in with my brain.

It still was completely foggy.

So far, so good.

I didn't want to put any effort into this, because that might wake me up, so I settled on the fastest, easiest snack possible. I grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter, then a bottle of apple juice from the fridge; and sat down, hunched over at the kitchen table, all by myself...

...and loved it.

While sitting there, marveling at how amazing the world can be when there are no distractions, I began to reflect that early mornings are very underrated.

I love the solitude...and the silence.

I'm glad Mom's still in bed, so I can sit here alone...

...with my snack...

...and with my blurry thoughts, and with...

...the sound of a cement mixer right outside!

SHIT!

And, right then and there, my brain fog dissipated completely.

I knew why the damned thing was out there. The people next door were replacing their front sidewalk.

Their verrrrrry looooong front sidewalk!

Fortunately, demolition of the old one, plus building the new one's wooden frame, had all taken place while I was at school the past two days.

But now, on my one free day, I have to put up with this?

Worst of all, not only was I now wide awake, thanks to the noise level I couldn't even hear myself think!

I had no idea how long it takes to mix a batch of cement, but felt certain they'd turn the thing off after no more than five minutes.

I was wrong.

And as the loud, incessant grinding dragged on and on, I became more and more irate...

...and finally lowered my forehead onto the kitchen table...

...and said every curse word in the book.

Twice.

And then, for good measure, I made up a few new ones on the spot.

Fiiiinally, they shut the stupid thing off...

...and once again, there was blessed silence...

...but I feared the damage had been done. Now that my fog is gone, there's little hope I'll be able to fall asleep again, no matter how hard I try. Instead, I'll probably spend the next few tortured hours staring up at my bedroom ceiling, wide-eyed and wide awake, totally frustrated.

Oh, well. I guess I can try at least, I thought, getting up and throwing my trash away.

I washed my hands at the kitchen sink, and then, while drying them...

...I gasped loudly.

Oh, my God! I totally forgot that last night Emma crashed here on the couch!

Flinging down the towel, I rushed over to the kitchen door...

...but then, I hesitated.

It's no surprise that I hadn't seen her when I came downstairs, because the back of the couch faces our staircase...

...and it also faces our kitchen door.

I opened it and stared across the dining room table, into the living room and over at the couch's back.

Since I didn't see Emma's head, it was obvious she wasn't sitting up...

...but could she have possibly slept through all that noise?

I listened closely, but there was only silence...

...but, what did it mean?

Was she still even here...

...or did she leave earlier, before I even woke up?

Oh, God, I hope not!

Taking a tentative step forward, I glanced out the front window, and to my relief saw the driver's side rear view mirror that juts out from Emma's truck.

I stared at the couch's back again, hoping that, somehow, she's still asleep; because I'm guessing she didn't get much last night. If she is sleeping, I'm certainly not going to disturb her; I just want to sit in one of the chairs across from her and watch for awhile, in silence.

With my heart now beating rapidly, I nervously tiptoed toward the couch...

...but before I was even halfway there, the fucking cement mixer started up again!

There's no way Emma can sleep through this!

Oh, well. I'll ask her how she slept up 'til this point, and then offer her some breakfast, I thought...

...but as I rounded the end of the couch and looked down...

...she wasn't there!

There was only her pillow and wrinkled blanket...

...and her heating pad, which had been turned off...

...but, to my surprise, was still hot to the touch...

...which means she can't have gone far!