Chapter 3
The next day, Frohike went into the school and made an appointment to meet with the counselor the following week. He didn't tell Emma what he was up to. He wanted to wait until he had actually talked with this person. He made a vague excuse about checking out her schedule, which she accepted because she was in danger of being late.
That evening they had dinner with the next-door neighbors, the Craemers. Frohike had met Patty's husband, Paul, shortly after moving in. He was an executive at a small software company that was doing quite well. He was also a do-it-yourself kind of guy so he and Patty had spent a great deal of time remodeling their home. He also liked to work on vintage cars and was rebuilding a 1957 Chevy Belair convertible in his garage. Frohike had willingly helped him with the car a couple of times when he needed an extra hand.
Dinner was delicious and the conversation was amiable. Little Louie thoroughly enjoyed the extra attention the company offered him. Emma was his favorite and he insisted that she sit by him. Emma was more than happy to oblige. When dinner was done and it was time for Louie to go to bed, Patty carried him to his room.
Not five minutes later, Louie came running back in his pajamas insisting that Emma had to come and read him a story. Patty followed closely behind him to return him to his bed. He started to whine and cry. Emma picked him up and assured Patty that she would not mind reading to him. She put him down and walked out of the room holding his hand. Patty sat down smiling to herself, "Thank God for Emma. She can be a real life saver sometimes."
With Emma out of the room Frohike took the opportunity to talk to these two people who knew his daughter better than he did. "Does Emma seem all right to you?"
"What do you mean?" Patty asked.
Frohike took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know what is normal for Emma. As far as I can tell, she has shown no real sign of grieving the loss of her mother."
"She doesn't seem all that different to me but Patty has spent more time with her than I have," Paul offered.
Patty thought for a moment. "For the most part she seems normal, but there's something missing. She's more subdued than usual."
"A friend of mine picked her up from school the other day. When they got home he tried to get her to play the piano and she became quite upset."
This didn't seem to surprise Patty. "Michelle taught Emma to play the piano. One of their favorite things to do was to play four handed." Frohike asked what that meant. "They would both sit at the piano. Emma would play on the upper keys and Michelle on the lower ones. They had a number of pieces that were pretty involved that required two people to play the whole thing. Emma had also gotten good enough to play accompaniment so that Michelle could sing. She had a beautiful voice."
This Frohike knew. She loved to sing and did so often. Of course she had passed her love of music on to her daughter. Patty continued. "I'm willing to bet that the piano is a symbol of what her mother meant to her. "
"I have an appointment to talk to the counselor at her school. We'll see what she has to say."
"If we can help in anyway, please let us know." Patty was sincere in her offer and Paul nodded in agreement.
Emma returned a short time later having read no less that 4 stories before convincing Louie that sleep would be a good idea. Frohike told her they needed to leave so she could finish her homework. Emma agreed. They said their good nights and left.
Late that night Frohike awoke with a distinct impression that something was wrong. Hearing a noise he turned in bed and looked toward the open door of his room. He could just make out a figure standing in the doorway to the dimly lit hallway. He fumbled for his glasses, finally found them and put them on. "Emma?" She moved towards him. Now he knew what had woken him up. It was the sound of her quick, wheezy breathing.
"Dad, I can't find it. I can't breathe and I can't find my inhaler." She managed to gasp out between short, shallow breaths. He turned on the light as she came all the way into the room.
"I'm calling 911," he told her as he got out of bed.
"No, don't! I just need my inhaler."
"Where is it?" He put his hands on her upper arms and guided her to sit down on the edge of his bed. She gripped the edge of the bed with both hands and started rocking back and forth ever so slightly in time with her labored breathing.
"It was in the drawer of my nightstand and now it's not there."
"What does it look like?"
"It's in a blue bag."
He left her on the bed and ran into her room. He flipped on the overhead light and quickly surveyed the room. The nightstand drawer was open. He pulled it out all the way spilling the contents onto the floor. He checked the bottom shelf and behind the nightstand. Next he got down on his knees and looked under the bed. There was a blue drawstring bag under there. He reached under and pulled it out. She must have knocked it out of the drawer and under the bed in her panic.
He ran back to his room, opened the bag and handed it to Emma. She took out three different inhalers before she found the one she wanted. She tried to take a deep breath and hold it but started coughing. Her breathing did ease though and her eyes looked much less wild.
"Thank you. I'm sorry I woke you up." Emma started to get up to leave.
"Sit down. You're not going anywhere until I am certain you're back to normal."
She didn't argue. The whole thing had really scared her. She hadn't had an asthma attack that bad since she was a kid. Frohike picked up the bag from where she had set it down. She still had the one inhaler she had used in her hand and there were three more in the bag. She used the original inhaler again and this time was able to hold it in for about 10 seconds before she started coughing again.
"Why didn't you tell me about this?"
"I didn't…" she started then changed her mind, "I haven't really had a problem with this for a long time."
"But you still should have told me."
"I'm sorry."
He held the other inhalers out to her. "What are all these others for?"
She picked up one, "This one and the one I already used are for when I have trouble breathing. The other two are supposed to keep me from having an attack."
"Have you been using the others?" He figured he already knew the answer to that.
Emma looked down at the floor and shook her head.
"I didn't think so."
She switched to the second rescue inhaler. "I need to drink water after using this one."
"Wait here." He went into the bathroom and got her the water.
By the time she was done with the second dose on the other inhaler she couldn't keep her eyes open. Frohike just had her lie down in his bed. He covered her with the quilt he used as a bed spread. He brushed stray hair back from her face. Then he bent down and lightly kissed her cheek.
"His face is scratchy," Emma thought as she slipped down towards sleep. She took a deep breath. It felt good to be able to do that. She noticed that the pillow smelled like her father. She found that comforting. Soon she was sound asleep, snoring softly.
Frohike could still hear a slight whistling sound as she exhaled. He pulled the overstuffed chair away from the wall and put it where he could see her face. He turned off the bedside lamp. The lights were still on in Emma's room. They cast enough light down the hall to enable him to see her in his darkened room. He got an extra quilt from the linen closet in the hall, wrapped it around himself and sat down in the chair.
Frohike knew that sleep was going to be a long way off. The jolt of adrenalin he had just gotten would keep him buzzing for some time. He sat there watching his daughter sleep trying not to let regrets run unchecked through his thoughts.
Why hadn't he made his decision immediately so that he could have met Emma and spent the next few weeks getting to know her? He had thought that they were getting along pretty well but why hadn't she told him about having asthma? What else had she not told him? He wished it wasn't the middle of the night. He wished he were back at the warehouse where he'd have someone to talk to, or to at least bounce ideas off.
"If wishes were horses…" he told himself.
He did make a couple of decisions. A visit to the doctor for Emma was first on the list. Second, he would have to sit down with her and find out if there was anything else he might need to know no matter how insignificant she thought it was. Third, he was going to ask her where her mother's personal items had been stored. Something he desperately wanted had to be with those missing items.
He finally fell asleep but woke up before his alarm went off. It took him a few seconds to remember why he was sleeping in the chair. He checked on Emma in the bed. She was still asleep. He got up and turned off the alarm. Emma needed more sleep. She wasn't going to school anyway. He picked up her inhalers and got the name of her doctor off one of them. He checked the address book he had found in the desk in the office. The doctor was listed but 6:14 AM was not the right time to call. He'd wait until 8:00.
Emma didn't wake up until 8:45. Frohike could hear her banging around from downstairs. "Dad, why did you let me oversleep!" she accused him when he came upstairs.
"Because you are not going to school."
She looked at him as if he'd just suggested that she jump off a bridge. "Why not?"
"I made an appointment for you with Dr. Zimmerman. I already called the school and told them you would not be in today."
"But why!"
"You have to ask that after what happened last night?" Frohike didn't raise his voice. He was pleased that he sounded calmer than he felt.
"But I don't need to go to the doctor. I'm fine." She tried not to whine but did not succeed.
"You say you're fine. Take a deep breath and exhale quickly for me."
She didn't want to do it because she knew what it would sound like and that would just prove his point. "The doctor will just want me to take Prednisone and I hate that stuff. No matter how fast you try to swallow the pills, they taste nasty!"
"Does the Prednisone make you feel better?"
"Yes." She had to admit that it did.
"Then don't you think it's worth it?"
Emma gave in. She could tell it was going to be difficult to win an argument with him. He was so irritatingly logical and she just couldn't get around that.
"What time is the appointment?"
"Go ahead and get dressed. I want to talk to your father." Dr. Zimmerman had just finished lecturing her about using the preventative medication.
She had kept her answers simple, "Yes." And "No." She hadn't even complained when he did prescribe Prednisone.
Frohike met with the doctor in his office. After introductions the doctor asked Frohike to describe Emma's symptoms during her asthma attack. Dr. Zimmerman shook his head and said, "Her asthma has flared up but not to the degree that would completely explain what happened last night. To me it sounds like it might have been as much a panic attack as an asthma attack."
They talked for a little longer about Michelle's death and how that might affect Emma. The doctor went through her prescriptions with Frohike and explained the routine of the preventative medications. He told Frohike that she needed to take it easy for a couple of days and to keep a close eye on her. If she continued to have serious attacks he was to bring her back in and they would consider what to do from there.
After filling the necessary prescriptions, they went out for lunch. Emma had been rather subdued and even took her pills with nothing more than a sour face and downing the rest of her milk to cover the taste of the medication.
"Emma, I have to go into the office but I can't leave you home alone. The doctor says someone needs to keep an eye on you. Do you want to go with me or would you like me to call Patty and ask if you can stay with her?"
Emma brightened considerably at this question. She sat up straight and smiled. "You mean I could go to work with you?"
"If that's what you want." Frohike was a little surprised by her enthusiasm.
"Yeah, I do."
"Well, that's settled then. It's not really all that exciting there. Just a lot of computers and equipment."
"Will Jimmy be there?"
"He usually is and my other two coworkers as well." Frohike hoped that Langly was in a good mood that day.
"Mr. Byers and Mr. Langly?"
"That's them."
"I'd like to meet them," Emma said, "You talk about them so much."
They went by her school and picked up the rest of her books and the assignments she would need to make up. She wanted to complain when he told the main office she would not be in the next day either, but decided not to embarrass them both by acting petulant.