Page 96 of The Emma Special

Emma: WHAT?????

James: Settle down, sparky. The office seems surprised that I’m here. It’s a good excuse to take time off for the surgery, but I want more. Want to take the weekend and skip down to the beach?

Emma: You’re serious.

How could he explain to his wife that he couldn’t focus on work because he was obsessed with her? He probably shouldn’t tell her that.

Baby steps.

James: Will it ruin your evening plans if I take you out for dinner tonight?

Emma: You act like I have plans. I have no mode of transportation, and I’m restricted to half walking capacity.

Right. Emma was in a constant state of pain these days. Going out wasn’t the best thing for her.

James: We’ll bring home dinner after the appointment. What’s your favorite restaurant in town?

It was a full three minutes before she replied.

Emma: I could go for pizza.

Of course Emma wanted something simple like pizza.

James: Are you sure? Marshall’s has a fantastic filet mignon.

Emma: Steak is a celebratory meal. Save the fancy dinner for after I survive the surgery.

James: You can have steak whenever you want it, Mrs. Hottie.

She sent back an eyeroll emoji.

Emma: I’ll eat whatever pizza you like.

James: Nope. I need your actual order.

Emma: Pepperoni and black olives.

Hmm. He’d never had that particular combination, but it sounded good.

James: Your wish is my command.

He opened his email, and the first message was a confirmation request.

“Will you be attending the twenty-first annual fundraiser for the Children’s Advocacy Center?”

He’d forgotten all about the fundraiser, and it was weeks after Emma’s surgery. Would she be able to walk by then? Would she even want to come?

James picked up the phone and called her.

“Hello,” she sang in answer.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

There was a shuffle on her end of the line, and she let out a huff. “Right as rain. How about you?”

“I’m not the one with an injury.”

“Injury shminjury.”