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We’re in my neighborhood, so it’s nothing to jump out my driver seat at the same time her door opens, and I reach in and scoop her up, carrying her swiftly to the grass on the passenger side of my truck. I set her down on her feet and she spins away from me, bending over just as I wrap my arm around the front of her waist. I hold her up, taking her weight as she throws up, the most pitiful whimper coming out of my girl and breaking my heart.
“I’m… sorry,” she manages to get out between heaves, and I rub her back, shushing her worry.
“Don’t apologize, baby. I’ve got you,” I soothe, just as Emmy comes up beside me to pull her hair back from her face.
“It’s okay, Rin. Let it out,” she tells her, and her confused eyes meet mine.
“Second time today,” I reply to her unspoken question, and she nods, her brows furrowed.
As Erin catches her breath, I pick her up, and Dean hops out of the front passenger seat so I can set her there. “Maybe she’s car-sick. I know some people can’t ride in the back seat without getting nauseous,” he suggests.
I tell him and Emmy as I buckle the seat belt around Erin, even as she weakly swats at me, “At first, I thought maybe it was all the excitement of seeing each other after a whole month. Like anxiety or something. But she said she hit turbulence on the flight, so she thought maybe it was motion sickness.” And then I direct a question at my girl, “Sugar, do you normally get car-sick? Motion sickness? Shit, even sea-sick?”
She shakes her head. “No, not normally. It’s always Em who needs all the Dramamine and stuff. I’ve usually got a tummy of steel.”
I see Emmy nod in the backseat as Dean shuts the door behind him. “It’s true. She can go on any roller coaster and not be fazed by the loops and twists, while I feel like I’m going to die.”
I frown at that, closing the passenger door and rounding the front of my truck before hopping back in the driver seat.
When we get home, I help Dean carry in their luggage as Emmy wraps her arm around Erin’s waist, walking with her inside. I hurry to the fridge and pour her a glass of Sprite, and she gratefully gulps it down.
“You want some crackers or something, baby? Another potato?” I murmur, wrapping one arm around the small of her back and pushing her hair behind her ear.
She shakes her head vigorously, sneering a little. “Not right now, but thank you. I think I just need to lie down for a little bit.”
I nod and give Emmy a look, and she silently agrees, taking Erin’s arm in hers and leading her up the stairs. She knows the layout from the couple times she and Dean have been over for dinner while in California for either network meetings or if they’re filming an episode nearby.
“She all right?” Dean asks as he comes in from grabbing the last of their bags.
“I think so. I hope it’s not like a stomach bug or something. I’d hate for her to have to miss the award show if she’s sick,” I tell him, and he follows me into the kitchen, where I ask if he’d like something to drink. I crack us open two bottled waters, and after he takes a big gulp, he looks at me.
“She seemed perfectly fine at the airport. I think if it was a stomach bug, she wouldn’t have felt like wrestling with my wife in the middle of the floor for all to see,” he points out, and then his face grows pensive. “You said she threw up when she first got here too?”
“Yep, poor thing,” I answer.
“And then she was fine up until just then outside?” he prompts.
I nod. “Exactly.”
“So it’s like… coming in waves of nausea?” He lifts a brow.
And when I narrow my eyes, giving him a drawled, “Yeeeah,” he rubs his chin in thought. “What is it?” I ask impatiently, wanting to know what he thinks might be making my woman feel like shit.
“I was just thinking about how my wife did the same thing before we found out she was pregnant. Perfectly fine one minute, and then puking her brains out the next. They may call that shit morning sickness, but we can vouch it was morning, noon, and middle of the night,” he says, giving a little chuckle as if he’s reminiscing the experience.
But I’m already shaking my head. “I’m sure you know, since our women are so close, that Erin can’t have kids. Plus, we’ve only had sex one time since we’ve been together.”
“Bro, don’t you remember sex ed? It only takes one time. And she can get pregnant, it’s just highly unlikely. And if she does, it’s even less of a chance she won’t miscarry,” he tells me, a worried look in his eyes, even though I can tell he’s trying to hide it for my sake.
