Page 15 of First Comes Marriage
She leaves and I see Arya wrinkling her nose. “I take it you don’t like it when they swab your throat?” I ask.
“No,” she replies, shaking her head. “It feels weird and makes me gag.”
I chuckle because she’s not wrong at all. When I was her age, I used to get the same way, usually after a day spent outside where I ran around playing. Seems she might take after me in more than looks, but I hope not, because the only thing that helped was having my tonsils and adenoids taken out. If that happens, I’ll be here, of course, however, I don’t know what that’ll do for my contracts. The company is so used to just calling me and me telling them that I’ll head out, but things have changed.
It’s not just me any longer. I have three kids, two aging grandmothers, and a wife to consider when it comes to just taking off for work. Not that I don’t think Abuela, Nonna, and Jolie can handle things here, but ultimately, it’smyresponsibility as the man of the house and their protector. Maybe I need to take a step back and let the younger guys take on more of the jobs. The problem with that is, I’m recognized nationwide as being one of the best in my field. I make a note to talk to Jolie about this since it will impact her as well.
The nurse comes back in and swabs the back of Arya’s throat, making her gag a little bit. “Here, sweetie, I’m going to give you one of these,” the nurse says, handing Arya an emesis bag. “Iknow that sometimes, swabbing your throat can make you feel sick to your stomach.” Arya nods while clutching the bag.
I honestly hope she doesn’t vomit because I can handle a lot of shit, but puke isn’t one of them. If she throws up, I’ll be joining right along in commiseration. Spying the trash can, I move it closer to me, which has Arya’s brows rising. “If you toss your cookies, I’ll be joining you,” I admit, grateful when she giggles.
“Well, looks like popsicles and soft foods for a few days, huh?” I ask as we pull away from the pharmacy with Arya’s medicine on the passenger seat. In addition to strep throat, she’s got the beginning of a summer cold, so they sent in something for that as well.
“Mmhm,” Arya mumbles around a popsicle that the pharmacy gave her. Apparently, they have them right by the window and when the clerk heard me saying that I’d run out and get some after I got her back home, she handed us one ‘for the road’.
“We’ll get you back to normal,” I advise. “I’m pretty sure that Abuela and Nonna are making some of their magical chicken soup.”
“It’s so good though,” she softly replies.
“I agree. I wonder if we need anything else. Surely we don’t, I think Jolie and I bought out the stores this past weekend.”
She giggles while nodding. “I like that we have a refrigerator just for drinks and popsicles.”
“Don’t forget the ice cream,” I tease.
Jolie prefers making waffle bowls full of ice cream, chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and whipped cream. They’re totally decadent but knowing how she grew up after she went into the system, I had promised myself that she would have anything her heart desires from here on out.
“I like her, Dex,” Arya says.
“So do I, munchkin, so do I,” I reply.
And that could be a problem for future me because it goes against what I promised her when she agreed to our arranged marriage.
“How about we get you settled on the couch?” Jolie asks once Arya’s taken her medicine and eaten a small bowl of the chicken soup that Abuela fixed.
The whole house smells amazing right now, since in addition to the soup that’s simmering on the back of the stove, they’re canning fruit today. Nonna’s sauce has been canned as well because of Arya’s throat.
“Okay,” Arya murmurs, lifting drowsy eyes to Jolie. “I’m kind of sleepy right now.”
That probably has something to do with the painkiller the doctor prescribed since Arya told him that her throat felt like it had razor blades in it whenever she swallowed.
“Then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll run up and get your fuzzy blanket. I’m sure Mutt and Jeff will be happy to snuggle with you,” Joliestates. “Dex, will you carry her into the family room and get her comfortable, please?”
“Absolutely. Go ahead and bring her some comfy lounge clothes too. No reason for her to be in jeans and a T-shirt.”
“Good idea,” she says, nodding in agreement. “Abuela, Nonna, as soon as I have her settled and have talked to Dex about what Albert found today, I’ll come in and give y’all a hand.”
“Mija, just take care of Arya,” Abuela says. “We’ve got this,” she asserts, waving her hand between herself and Nonna.
“No, y’all are putting all of this up for all of us, so I’m going to help wherever I can,” she retorts.
Scooping Arya up, I grab the ginger ale and another popsicle then head into the family room. I barely have her on the couch when Jolie returns, her arms full of pillows, clothes, and the fuzzy throw. “Let’s get you changed, sweetie,” she coos to Arya.
“I’ll be on the back porch,” I tell her, wanting to give them the privacy they deserve while Arya gets changed.
“That’s fine, I’ll grab us a drink and my list and meet you out there,” she replies, already focusing on my little sister.
As I settle into one of the porch chairs, I murmur, “Looks like things might be changing for the better for all of us.”
