Page 61 of Accidentally Falling For My Best Friend
“Young people and their phones, I swear, Mary. The men at the office can’t stay off of theirs for an entire meal either. They don’t even realize they’re being disrespectful,” Aspen’s father says to his wife, presumably about me using my pump. Apparently, checking a phone would be rude, but he’s allowed to talk with a mouth full of food.
“That’s his insulin pump, Father. I told you that Parker has diabetes,” Aspen defends, sounding as exasperated as I feel.
Both of her parents seem like shitty people in general, and it’s clear they think their money makes them more important than other people. I expected having to come here as Aspen’s fake boyfriend meant I wouldn’t get along with them, but still, I had underestimated just how much patience I would need to have during one meal in their presence. I’m trying to play my part and not rock the boat, but they’re making it difficult.
“Parker, what is it you do again?” her father asks, turning his full attention to me with what is probably meant to be anintimidating glare. The conversation during the meal was mostly about the plans for tomorrow, but I guess we’ve moved onto interrogation time.
“I’m the CFO of Caldwell Hotels,” I say, kind of hating that I know these people will be impressed by my title, but at least I’ll be playing my role of acceptable boyfriend well.
They both give approving hums, nodding like I’ve passed a test.As if they didn’t know exactly what I do already.Then her father launches into more complaining. “I’d bet you deal with a lot of bullshit from your employees too. Just last week we were expecting a shipment of new supplies and had another delay. The office manager, this gay Latino kid who’s probably way too young to be in charge of anyone at like twenty-five, no doubt a diversity hire, had the audacity to blame the weather. If you know your supplies are coming from the north in December, make a fucking plan for that, don’t come crying to me that now we’re going to be over budget and behind our timeline.”
Aspen cuts in before I get the chance. “Father, that man’s race, age, or sexual orientation have no impact on his ability to do his job. They were completely unnecessary details to include in your complaint.”
He rolls his eyes. “I was just describing him so you could have a visual. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“There actually is something wrong with it. You sound racist, homophobic, and like you’re discriminating based on his age. If you talk like that at work, I’m shocked you haven’t had HR complaints.”
I love that Aspen isn’t afraid to put him in his place, even if she isn’t comfortable living her full truth with them. Her father humphs out a big sigh, rolling his eyes again.“I swear, the more time you spend in that city, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”
“Honestly, darling, you should know better thanto talk back to your elders like that,” her mother adds in a sugary tone that’s probably intended to mask her poor attitude.
“Well, as much fun as this has been, I think we’re ready to call it a night,” Aspen announces, dramatically pushing her seat out from the table. I hurry to follow her, giving her parents a quick nod goodnight, and her mother calls out something about making sure we sleep in our own rooms.
It’s still pretty early for us to actually go to bed, so we decide to watch a Christmas movie in their home theater. Aspen has somehow never seenChristmas Vacation, so we put it on, attempting to distract ourselves with fake family holiday drama that is far more entertaining than our own.
Even though I went during dinner, I have to go to the bathroom again before we can start the movie, which of course has me worried that my blood sugar is already climbing because frequent urination can be a symptom.
But I’ve also had a lot to drink today. I jumped at the offered coffee on the plane, and the dry air usually makes me thirsty, so I had a few cups of water as well. I’m not sure how much, though, since the flight attendant kept refilling my glass. And I’ve had more since being here.
Being thirsty is another symptom of a high blood sugar level.
I check my pump for what feels like the hundredth time since my monitor was pulled out and confirm that my continuous insulin rate appears to be delivering properly.
Then why do I feel like my blood sugar is high?Am I just psyching myself out?
I stick to water during the movie, not wanting to deal with more carbs, especially because I’m worried I might have underestimated how much insulin to give myself for dinner. I’m feeling dehydrated, and my muscles are feeling tight, which happens when my levels get high, so I program the pump to give myselfeven more insulin, confirming that there’s still plenty of the medication in the reservoir, and try to relax.
The movie is one of my favorites. Oakley and I usually spend Christmas Eve watching it while we wrap presents, and when I send him a picture, he sends a similar one back that he’s also watching it. I like that even in different states, we’re still in sync. But after the stress of today, I’m having trouble focusing.
When it’s over, Aspen walks me back to my room so I don’t get lost, and we stop for more water on the way. My mouth is really dry, and my muscles feel like they’re being squeezed to the point of pain—my blood sugar is definitely high.
I give myself even more insulin, but at this point, I’m worried there might be a problem with my connection site. I’ve given myself way more insulin than the amount of food I’ve had today should have called for, but I don’t think my level has gone down at all. As much as I’d like to say I’m just being paranoid and that my symptoms are a result of me being worried, I can’t keep ignoring that I’m also nauseous, another concerning symptom.
Even though it’s getting to be pretty late, and I’m exhausted. I know I won’t be able to sleep with my blood sugar so high. When we make it back to my room, I can no longer deny that something is seriously wrong. I have to jog the final few feet, rushing into the en suite to throw up.
“Holy shit, Parker. Are you okay?” Aspen rushes into the bathroom, apparently undisturbed by seeing me getting sick. “What do you need?”
It’s time to admit defeat.
When I’m sure I can answer without anything else coming up I take a deep breath and say what I probably should have hours ago. “The hospital.”
29
OAKLEY
December
Oakley
