A Scorpio-Drake Christmas

The Muppet Christmas Carol

Part Two: The Muppet Christmas Carol

The next day...

"Emma Scorpio-Drake, is that you I see pacing outside my door?" Robin managed to catch a glimpse of her beautiful daughter through the crack in the door as she laid in bed, amongst a sea of blankets and quilts, propped up on a mountain of pillows. Emma was walking the length of the hallway, going back and forth, back and forth.

Emma poked her head into the room. "Hey, Mom," she said, "sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay, I wasn't asleep," Robin said. "Why are you wearing that mask?" She asked, as Emma fingered the blue paper face cover. Robin already knew the answer, though. Patrick was sporting one too. He was even trying to get Noah Jr. to wear one, although his efforts were futile at best.

"You should be resting," Emma said. "And you know Dad. He wants us all to wear these so we can't expose you to any outside germs that could make you sicker."

"I'm already sick. I should be the one in the mask, so you don't catch whatever I've got," Robin mused. "With your face all covered up like that, I can't see your pretty smile."

Emma chuckled. "You've seen my smile a million times before. When you're all better, you will see it again."

"I'm counting on that," Robin said. "Well, can I at least have a hug?"

"Sure," Emma said. She walked over to the bed and edged onto the mattress, giving her mother a tentative embrace.

"I won't break, you know."

Emma squeezed tighter and Robin returned the hug. They pulled apart and Robin touched the sleeve of Emma's pink sweater. "This is new. Is it cashmere?"

Emma nodded. "It was a gift from Aunt Brenda."

Robin smiled. "I should have guessed. She's coming to visit this year, but yet, she couldn't wait until Christmas Day to give you your present."

"She said there's more where this came from."

"In other words, she's going to spoil you and Noah Jr. rotten. I need to talk to her about that."

"Shouldn't you focus on getting better?" Emma said.

"You sound just like your father."

"How are you doing, Mom? Really? Dad said you had a fever last night."

"I did. It spiked to one hundred and one. Your dad was thisclose to dragging me into the ER. I only managed to stop him by driving home the point that Noah Jr. would be scared if we woke him up in the middle of the night. Patrick put cool compresses all over me, fed me Tylenol, and fortunately, my temperature went back down to ninety-nine."

"And what is it now?"

"Last we checked, I'm in the normal range."

"That's good. What about your other symptoms? How are you coping?"

Robin tapped Emma on the shoulder. "Spoken like a true pre-med student," she said. "Speaking of which, how did finals go?"

"I came here right after my last one was finished. I think I did pretty good, but you're changing the subject."

"Ah, you caught me. And since you asked, my symptoms are manageable. I have a bit of a runny nose and I vaguely sound like Darth Vader. Also, my stomach is a little queasy, but otherwise, I'm starting to feel like my old self already. By tomorrow, I'll be raring to go so we can get the holiday festivities underway."

"Mom, you can't take on too much at once."

"Oh, I know, sweetheart, and I won't. But we're supposed to be hosting a holiday get-together here this year. The turkey won't cook itself; the decorations won't hang themselves, the -"

"Mom, please. A party isn't necessary. You, healthy? That is necessary."

"You really do sound just like Patrick. You are your father's daughter, aren't you?"

Emma splayed her tiny hands. "It's just ... when we -" she swallowed hard - "when we lost you, it was like ... we tried so hard to be okay without you, you know. Some days, we almost managed it, but still something always felt like it was missing, deep down. If anything happened to you..."

"Nothing's going to happen to me, Emma. I promise. This is just a little cold spell. It will go away very soon."

"It could turn into something more severe if we're not really careful. Dad told me you promised to let him take care of you, so please, let him do that. I know it's hard being laid up right now, but getting well... That has to be your number one priority, Mom. For Dad's sake, and N.J.'s., and mine, please let us worry about you for a change. I don't want to be without you ever again."

Robin slipped her arm around Emma's waist. She could truly see the toll the years she was gone from Emma's life had taken on her daughter. "You won't lose me, baby girl, I promise. But alright, I'll behave. I mean it this time. I'll stay in bed and rest, and drink hot toddies, and do whatever else I need to, to get well."

"Thank you, Mom," Emma said. "That's all we ask. We need you. We love you."

"I love you too." Robin ran her fingers through Emma's long, wavy chestnut brown hair. "Now, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"If I promise to take a really long nap later, do you think you and the boys would be willing to watch The Muppet Christmas Carol with me now, for old times' sake?"

Emma laughed. That movie had been her absolute favorite as a child. She had watched it on DVD over and over again until Robin and Patrick could have recited the words in their sleep. It had been years since they had last seen it, but now seemed like the right time to give it a look again.

"Sure, Mom, I'd love that," Emma agreed.

Xoxox

"I loved that movie!" Noah Jr. enthused as the credits rolled. The family of four were cuddled up on the bed together.

"You did?" Emma asked. "What was your favorite part?"

"The singing!" Her little brother answered.

"That's my favorite part too," Emma said. She gave him a little tickle under his chin, and he laughed gleefully.

"Mom, what's your fav-" Noah Jr. started to ask, but he stopped when he noticed Robin dozing on a pillow.

Patrick reached out and touched Robin's forehead. Her skin was cool to the touch; that much he was thankful for. Her fever wasn't raging, but he knew fighting this illness was taking more out of her than she would ever admit.

"Mama?" Noah Jr. asked quietly.

Emma lightly tapped her lips and whispered, "shhh." She hugged her little brother to her. "It's okay. Mom's just sleepy."

Noah Jr. looked doubtful. "Is she okay?"

"Yes," Emma said. "I think so." She looked at Patrick for reassurance.

His brow was creased, but he offered his kids a weak smile. "Yes," he said. "Let's just give her a little time to rest. I'll keep checking up on her, alright?"

"Alright," Emma and Noah Jr. agreed.

They edged out of the bedroom. Patrick left the door cracked as Noah Jr. headed down the hall to his playroom. Emma hung back. She looked up at Patrick. "She's going to be okay, right, Dad?"

Patrick nodded. "Yes, of course she is," he said. "I'll make sure of it. Your mother is going to get better, and then we'll have the best Christmas ever. I promise you that."

*That kind of ended on a sort of bittersweet note, I know, but the next chapter will be much happier. I promise.