Chapter 6
"Chives," she blurted out at last.
She ripped off her apron, finally letting her frustration show.
She said, "I just put in a little.
"Didn't she clean the plate?
"If she was really allergic, could she really have eaten all of them?"
Emily held onto the edge of the table, her fingertips pressed so hard against it that they turned pale.
David turned to look at her.
"Emily, are you okay?" he asked.
Emily shook her head.
She didn't want to scare him, Emily thought.
But a second later her chest seized and her breath caught halfway, and she could not pull any air in.
A cough burst out of Emily before she could stop it.
That cough spread the feeling in her throat, the packed, damp cotton of it, until everything got worse.
David's expression darkened instantly.
He gently held her shoulders to steady her.
"Don't talk," David said.
Helen stood off to the side, still stubbornly holding her ground.
She said, "Don't let her freak you out. She's just upset.
"She was totally fine while eating.
"She even said it tasted fine."
David ignored her and pulled out his phone.
Emily reached out and gently pressed her hand on his wrist.
"Wait," she said softly.
David looked down.
Emily's hand was icy cold, her fingertips shaking as she held onto him.
"Why?" David asked, worry clear in his voice.
Emily tried to steady her breath.
"I just wanted to wait for you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
David's eyes filled with tears.
"You knew there were chives in them the whole time, didn't you?" David demanded.
Emily didn't answer.
She simply turned her eyes to Helen, her gaze lingering in silent confrontation.
Helen felt a wave of unease under Emily's gaze, and her voice rose sharply.
Helen snapped, "Why are you staring at me?
"It's not like I was poisoning you.
"I just wanted to show it's not as serious as you make it out to be.
"You're pregnant, but you can't expect everyone to tiptoe around you, refusing to eat this or that forever."
David spun around, his voice sharp with anger.
"Mom!" he shouted.
Helen flinched and took a step back.
She'd never seen her son look at her like that before.
It was like he was looking at a stranger.
"Are you yelling at me?" Helen snapped.
"She's allergic to chives! How many times have I told you that?" David shot back.
"Allergic, she says. Who ever heard of somebody with an allergy putting away a whole plate?" Helen scoffed.
Helen jabbed a finger at the empty plate.
"She ate it on her own. It's not like I shoved it down her throat," Helen said.
Emily's stomach twisted violently, listening to Helen go on.
She tried to head to the bathroom, but the moment she managed to stand, everything went dark for a second.
David grabbed her before she could fall, wrapping her in his arms.
"Emily!" he called out, worry thick in his voice.
She leaned into him, struggling to breathe.
Her lips were numb and swollen, and the sounds around her faded, like she was drowning in silence.
David immediately dialed 911.
Even though his voice trembled, he made sure every word was clear.
"She's pregnant, allergic to chives. Her lips are swollen, she's struggling to breathe after eating."
"The address is—" David continued.
As soon as Helen heard David calling 911, her face changed.
"You're really calling an ambulance?" Helen snapped, disbelief clear in her voice.
David looked up at her.
"You'd better pray she's okay," he said, his tone icy and menacing.
Helen's lips moved, but she didn't say anything.
"What did I do wrong?
"If she hadn't eaten them, would any of this have happened?"
As soon as Helen said that, Emily's tears started falling.
She wasn't crying from pain.
She wasn't crying out of fear, either.
Right then Emily finally understood that Helen had never once thought of her as somebody who could feel pain or fear.
To Helen, she was just the woman who took her son away, an outsider who needed to be taught a lesson.
David carried her to the couch, propping her up so she could breathe easier.
He listened to the instructions from the emergency operator while rummaging through the medicine cabinet.
Emily's breathing grew more and more frantic.
She wanted to say something about the baby.
She wanted to ask whether this would hurt the baby.
But her tongue felt like lead, and every word got stuck in her throat.
Helen paced back and forth in the living room a couple of times, then ended up sitting right back where she started.
She grabbed the knitting bag by the couch and rummaged through it, finally pulling out a half-finished little sweater.
The knitting needles clinked together softly.
David saw her, and his stare was downright chilling.
"You can really sit there knitting with all this going on?" David said, disbelief sharp in his voice.
Helen kept her head down, winding the yarn around her fingers.
Helen grumbled, "What else do you want me to do?
I'm not the one suffering."
From downstairs, the distant wail of an ambulance began to echo up.
The sound grew closer, slicing through the heavy afternoon air like a knife.
Emily gripped David's sleeve tightly.
She watched as Helen's ball of yarn rolled across the floor, all the way to her feet.
The pink yarn got tangled around the chair leg.
Helen bent down to pick it up and muttered under her breath, "Always making a scene."
By the time the paramedics came in, Emily could barely string a sentence together.
She was leaning against David, her chest heaving rapidly, her face so pale it looked like she'd just been dunked in ice water.
The nurse took one look at her swollen lips and neck, then immediately crouched down to check her blood pressure and oxygen levels.