Page 148 of A Little Crush
“Feeding my OCD is not the way to handle this,” I mutter under my breath. Poppy flaps her arms and arches her back in discomfort, demanding my attention. “It’s okay, baby.” My hand runs up and down her spine again as I try to figure out what to do. “It’s okay.”
Searching for Iris’s contact information, I hit the call button and bring it to my ear, but it doesn’t even ring before a familiar, robotic voice comes through the speaker.
“The number you have called cannot be completed as dialed.”
I hang up and try again, only to receive the same response.
Seriously?
Unsure what else to do, I dial my mom as my body trembles with fear.
On the third ring, it connects. “Hey, babe?—”
“Mom?” My voice cracks, though I doubt she can hear me over Poppy’s soul-shattering screams.
“What’s wrong?” The light, airy tone from seconds before evaporates. “Is Poppy okay?”
“Pops.” I squeeze my eyes shut and sway from left to right, despite knowing it won’t help. Nothing has. Hades lets out a small whimper at my feet and paws at my knee. I think he can feel it, too, thanks to his time in service dog school before he failed out. Something’s wrong. She needs help.Morehelp. More than I can give. “Fever,” I add, trying to focus instead of getting lost in what-ifs. “She has a fever.”
“Okay, breathe,” my mom orders. “Did you take her temperature?”
“Yes. Twice, er, three times,” I clarify. “Once before her bath, and twice just a minute ago.” I take a deep breath, praying the oxygen will help me think clearly and stop the panic from taking over completely. “She’s really hot, Mom.”
“Okay. Henry,” she addresses my dad. They’re probably in the suite at the arena surrounded by friends and colleagues. I bet the last thing they expected was a call from me. I bet this call is like a bucket of ice water on their entire evening. Not that it matters. We all know where my family's priorities lie, but it doesn’t ease the guilt. Am I over-reacting? Is this my OCD clouding my judgment? I don’t freaking know! I brush my lips against Poppy’s forehead again. She’s burning up.
Breathe.
As my mom relays everything, I shift my weight from side to side, trying to calm the hell down since I know my anxiety isn’t doing Poppy any favors. But it’s hard. Really hard. What if?—
“Okay, your dad is sending someone to fill in for Jax on the bench.”
“That’s good,” I breathe out while Hades paces at my feet. “That’s really good.”
“Yeah. Then your dad and I are going to come pick you guys up and take you to the hospital, all right? Everyone else will meet us there.”
Like a punch to the gut, I register her words.Your dad and I are going to come pick you guys up and take you to the hospital.Hospital. And not just any hospital. Butthehospital. The one I promised never to enter again. The one I went to when I was a kid. The one where I had to say goodbye to my big brother. The one where I was blindsided and left so damn broken. The idea is enough to bring me to my knees and make me want to vomit.
“Mom,” my voice cracks all over again, and a tear slides down my cheek.
“I know, baby,” she murmurs, letting her words hang in the air as if they have the power to overcome my soul-crushing fear.
And I know she wants to understand it. To fully grasp exactly how crippling this situation is. Add in the ‘h’ word, and I can barely see straight, let alone create an actionable to-do list that’ll get me and a helpless and very sick baby to the one place I vowed to never go to again. What if she catches something even worse? What if she never comes home? What if they have to hook her up to the same cords and machines in the same room where my brother slipped away? The familiar beep-beep that haunts my dreams manages to cut through Poppy’s screams, leaving me cold as ice. I slide to the floor, keeping the distraught baby close to my chest, my muscles cramping and tingles spreading through my limbs.
“It’s going to be okay,” my mom promises. “It will.”
“Give me the phone,” a low voice demands before my dad’s voice cuts through the speaker. “Hey, Squeaks.”
“Hi, Dad,” I choke out.
“Hey, baby girl. We’re gonna be right there, okay?”
Poppy fidgets in my arms, her cries threatening to drown out my dad’s strong voice as Hades nuzzles himself against my cheek and lets out a quiet whimper. He’s worried. And so am I. But being paralyzed by fear isn’t going to get me anywhere. It’ll only slow things down. And time is the only resource I have any real control over. Isn’t it?
“You’re not alone,” my dad promises. “You’re not alone. But you need to?—”
“I don’t want you to come pick me up.”
“Rore—”
