Emma woke from her sleep. She still felt like hell, especially towards Henry. How dare he keep her here! And using Christopher as well as an excuse! She would make it known to him once and for all what a controlling freak he was. Her cold got the better of her emotions at the moment, and she moaned a little in pain from everything that was going on. She might as well face facts: she was at his house for a while longer.
She heard a soft hissing noise to her left, and turned to see what was making it. She saw a humidifier on the nightstand, which was in the shape of a green frog spewing forth the mist. Next to that, with its plug hanging off of the table, was a Hello Kitty one. She let one side of her mouth move up involuntarily. She had to admit, it was cute. But two? Why two? She moaned again feeling parched, and moved her head to her other side, then seeing a glass of water on the other nightstand, a slice of lemon on top, with a pitcher full next to it. Inside she could see lemon slices floating serenely on top... and in the middle?
She blinked, then sat up slowly and turned on the small table side lamp, and saw that it was a very clever pitcher, the lemon wedges in the middle so that it could give off it’s juices and keep the lemons inside, but why would anyone put lemon slices on top too?
She shook her head, and took up the glass of water, sipping it as if it would bite her.
“Oh!” said a familiar voice. Emma looked up at Luisa’s smiling face as she bounded into the room, “You are up! You must be hungry!”
Before Emma could say anything, Luisa had taken off the picture frame that was behind the pitcher, and tossed it into one of the big chairs next to a heavily draped window. She frowned and looked as she saw hits of sun peaking from behind it. Luisa then moved the pitcher as she had tossed the frame to the table beside two chairs, and was out the door again, but back within seconds with a small cart with a large-ish pot on it, steam coming from it..
“‘The Sicky gets the best.’ is what Mr. Tate said before he left after lunch!” she wealed it towards the bed, and placed it kitty-cornered next to the night stand, “So I did my best with what Mama and Papa Tate left us the other night, but I had to run out for chicken and noodles…. And of all luck I couldn’t find the Sicky bowl till just now!” She produced a rather strange looking bowl as she said it. It was rather larger than most, and in one side of the bowl’s rim, there was sort of a lip that came out, and said “It was made by a friend who thought that Henry was going a little too overboard when Rachel was sick as she was pregnant. It was a joke of course, but Henry took it seriously, and since then, even Ms. Tate had used it for Ms. Kenna a few times…." Emma felt rather annoyed when told this. Rachel again. But when she heard that Henry went “overboard” with his former wife, she had to try with all her might to keep from giggling at the mental image of him “going overboard”.
“Was he…” she said heroically with a neutral voice, “Was he a little too worried?”
“He was…” she stopped and looked at the ceiling, “He was very…nervioso, asustado ….” She looked back at her and scrunched up her face, “He was… like on Halloween,” she put up her hands as if frightened and made a shocked face, then returned to her normal smile, “He said later it was more about being a father than her health… She really wanted him to stop being that way around her after a while though...” Luisa smiled looking at the bowl. Emma watched as she thought something, and then saw her looking at her, then giggle, “He still isn’t sure.”
She handed Emma the bowl, then turned to the tray and said, “You can sip the soup through it easier, and not have to use a spoon unless you want to eat the meal.” She then placed a napkin on the dresser where the pitcher was, and placed a big spoon there, and then looked at Emma smiling, “I’ll serve you if you want, but Mr. Tate wants you to drink some broth… It’ll help with your… nose he said?” She looked away again nodding as if that was the right thing to say, and said, “Myself, I don’t care if you eat or not, but you haven’t eaten since last night.”
Emma had to agree there, she felt famished just smelling the soup from the cart, and as it was poured into the bowl.
“Did you make it yourself?” she asked as Luisa stopped ladling the liquid into it.
“Yes.” She said smiling with what seemed to be a little nervous chuckle, “I love to cook for my son and for the Tate’s if they are home late or sick.” She ladled one more big scoop of food into it, then went back for broth, “It is very rare to cook for them though.”
“How long have you known him?” Emma said without knowing it. She felt a little angry at the woman. She never got to do anything like that for Henry.
“Henry? I have known him for a little more than ten years…” she smiled as she poured more broth into the bowl, “I am thankful to him and his wife for the kindness they have shown me and my son.”
“Just you and your son?”
“Yes.” Said the woman losing some of her cheerfulness. She placed the ladle into the pot on the cart with a soft finality, and went over to the water pitcher and came back saying, “My husband died just before their marriage… He never knew his son.”
“Oh.” Said Emma suddenly ashamed of her hate for the woman, but something new had crept into her mind, “I’m sorry…”
“Do not be!” said the woman smiling again and placing the pitcher on the cart next to the pot, “He died when he did for whatever reason, I do not know, but I am content with my position here as house keeper for the Tate’s”
“But… Mrs. Tate…?”
Luisa smiled brightly, “To me, she is not gone from my memory and I am still as thankful to her as I am Henry.” She then took a small bell from her pocket and placed it on the nightstand, “If you want something, please ring it. I will be doing chores until Rosemary comes. Mr. Tate said he will be back soon to get rid of his child, and tend to some business.”
“Ok.” Emma said as Luisa placed the small brass bell with wooden handle next to the spoon. As Luisa almost left the room, Emma had to stop her, “Tell me… Just one thing? What do you think of Henry?”
Luisa smiled brightly, “He is the nicest man I know, and wished with all my might could have as a brother.”
Emma looked at the soup as she left. She was angry at Henry, but it wasn’t for having kept her here, or about Luisa or his wife.
She shook her head and felt lonely, wishing LB was there to talk to and muse over why she felt angry, but she was hungry looking at the soup, and drank some of the broth, feeling a little better.
Apple Blossom19 Community Member 
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