Page 167 of Baby Makes Three


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“Flynn, this is Chelsea. There isn’t a person around here, new or old, that doesn’t know y’all’s story. What she did rocked this little Oklahoma town, and there are just as many people worried about you as they are about her.”

“I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn't be reminded of that every once in a while.”

The silence that hung between us was tense. I didn’t stop to think about how this would look: a boy whose college love abandoned him the morning after graduation suddenly comes back into town, half kills herself, and then that same boy takes her in to rehabilitate her as he sees fit.

“I’ll be careful,” I assured her.

“Good,” she smirked.

“Oh! Another thing to keep in mind: no cars. People with concussions get motion sickness very quickly, so once you get her home, no more gettin’ in that truck of yours.”

“What about grocery shopping and stuff?” I asked.

“Don’t leave her alone. Which means you’ll need to do that while she’s still here.”

“Thanks for lettin’ me know,” I said. “Uh… when are we looking at discharging her?”

“Well, I’m gonna check back in on her tonight before I go home, but if all looks good and her brain swelling has continued to dissipate, we should be able to send her home tomorrow.”

“Perfect. Thanks, As-... I mean, doc.”

“Anytime, Bullhead,” she winked.

I trotted back to Chelsea’s room and saw her father sitting by her bedside. He was drawing circles on the back of her hand while Chelsea slept, and when he slowly rose his eyes up and connected them with mine, I gave him a slight nod and left. I knew he’d stay with Chelsea until I got back, and that meant I could get some stuff in my kitchen before tomorrow. I reached in and grabbed my wallet off the corner table and told Barber I was going grocery shopping, and he shewed me off and down the hallway. I’m sure he wanted to spend some time alone with his daughter, and if I played my cards right, I could even set up her bedroom before I came back.

I made my way to my truck and headed to the grocery store and stocked up on all sorts of things. I figured the easier it was to eat, the more inclined she would be to eat, so I picked up ingredients for many different kinds of soups. I knew Chelsea loved my cabbage stew, so I picked up a couple heads to get marinating in a pot before I headed back to the hospital. I picked up some apples and some peanut butter, thinking maybe if she wanted a snack that would be a good one. She was a glutton for homemade macaroni and cheese, so I piled in the ingredients and made sure that was a staple in her diet.

Plus, if I made too much, it was easy to spoon out and reheat, which would give her some of her independence back. I had a feeling it was going to be very hard for Chelsea to let me take care of her, being all independent like she was. So, I was determined to give her as much as she could do on her own as I possibly could.

I grabbed vegetables for a stir fry and tried to remember the meats I had in my deep freezer, and after grabbing some stuff to make pancakes and bacon for breakfast in the morning, I headed on up to check out. I’d only been in the store for 45 minutes, and if I got this stuff home and put up, I could rearrange her room a bit before she arrived tomorrow.

I got back to my house and checked my phone to make sure no one from the hospital had called. I hauled the groceries in and got everything put away, and before I did anything else I washed down both heads of cabbage and placed them in a pot of water. I salted and peppered it before throwing in some other seasonings, and I covered it just to let it sit on the counter. Chelsea loved the broth from this soup more than anything, and I wanted to make sure she had plenty of it.

I bounded upstairs and busted through the door to the spare bedroom and immediately got to work. I stripped the bed sheets and put new linens on it, I dusted down the furniture and the fan, I cleaned up the attached bathroom and placed fresh towels out for her to use, and I made sure the good toilet paper was on a roll. I ran the vacuum quickly over the carpet and made sure the lamp by her bed had a working bulb, and when I felt like everything was done, I wiped the sweat from my brow.

And then, I heard my phone vibrating downstairs.

I took off down the stairs and skidded into the kitchen, and when I saw Chelsea’s number pop up on my phone, I felt a rush of panic clench my throat shut.

“Chelsea? Are you alright?”

“It’s just me, Flynn.”

“Hey there, Mrs. August. Everything alright? I’ve got food in the house for Chelsea, and her room all made up.”

“That sounds wonderful,” she said.

“Are y’all alright?” I asked again.

“Chelsea’s askin’ for ya is all. Figured I’d call and see where you were.”

Chelsea. My Chelsea. My wonderful, soft, spunky, sassy, sensitive Chelsea was asking for me. She was wondering where the fuck I was, and all I was doing was sweating in the middle of my damn kitchen.

I’d taken too fucking long.

“I’m getting into my car right now. Tell her I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

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