Mission B.R.E.A.K.U.P.

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Emma swiftly made her way to the kitchen and peeked inside. She saw no one inside so she stepped in cautiously. She jumped when she heard a thickly accented voice behind her. “Kin ah help ye?”

She turned around to see a short and stout woman glaring at her with her hands on her hips.

“I actually wanted the kitchen to myself,” Emma said clearing her throat.

“God gimme patience! Dae it yersel' then! Dae it a' yersel'!” she cried raising her hands in annoyance and then letting them drop by her side. Emma stared at her for a while trying to comprehend her accent and tone, before deciding she meant for her to ‘dae’ it herself after all.

“Foremaist that Jake fellow 'n' noo this spoilt princess.” The cook muttered under her breath grumpily as she walked out of the kitchen continuing to throw dirty glares at Emma.

Emma uncomfortably stared after her awhile before turning and looking for all the ingredients she needed. Rummaging in the fridge and cabinets she gathered what she could find and began the stress busting process. Just as she cracked the eggs into the bowl, she heard a faint whistling sound behind her. Turning to see who it was she saw Jake absent-mindedly stroll into the kitchen whistling a tune. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. She stared at him for a while and he looked straight back into her eyes. Snapping out of her reverie suddenly, she turned away and returned to her work.

“Where’s Fanny?” he asked her seriously.

“Who’s Fanny?” she asked not looking up.

“The cook.”

“Oh that grumpy woman? I asked her to go out because I needed the kitchen to myself!” was the haughty reply.

She heard a snort behind her before he opened the fridge and grabbed a coke. There was a silence after he closed the fridge door and turned to rummage in the shelf for something.

“She’s not that grumpy, you know? She’s actually really nice when you get to know her,” he said suddenly.

“The cook? Well she didn’t seem to think too highly of you either,” she said, not looking up.

She heard him chuckle. “She’s always saying ‘Jake git oot o' mah scullery!’” he said.

She couldn’t help herself. She burst into a fit of giggles at his attempt at a Scottish accent.

“You’re terrible at the accent!” she laughed as she looked up at him.

 She realized again that she’d made a mistake as the lopsided grin on his face made her stomach play a mad game of twister. She immediately looked back down.

“Am not!” she heard Jake protest with a chuckle, “What are you doing anyway?”

“Baking.” She said simply.

“Um, why?”

“Because it helps calm me down.”

There was a silence for a while before she heard him walk out the door. She looked after his retreating form with frustration. He was the only one who had been at the meeting and hadn’t thanked her after she agreed to be the wedding planner. Even her mother had been gracious enough to smile! It was like he didn’t think she could do it. “Well he can think whatever he damn well pleases!” she said to herself even as she felt a sinking feeling in her chest. She knew it was because of the way she’d behaved with him this morning. She had seen it in his eyes. He had been hurt.

The next few days were extremely busy for Emma. She was hardly ever home and even when she was, she was always on her phone. The wedding was going to be outdoors in the 2 acre land that lay before the house. Cheryl had wanted it to be a very floral affair and it seemed absolutely picturesque. Emma had been playing around with quite a few ideas. Lanterns were to be hung from the higher branches of every tree, with a bouquet of flowers adorning each lantern. The bride and groom would walk through an arch adorned with white carnations on a carpet lined with white petals. Christopher had wanted a serene look to the entire place so Emma had gone for lots of whites. However, after the vows were exchanged, the bride and groom would have their first dance in a separate part of the garden adorned with hundreds of colourful Chinese lanterns. The food was also to be served there and so tables with beautiful baby pink table cloths were also to be arranged for. Not to mention the candles that lined the all the stairs leading to the back of the house.

All in all it was a cumbersome affair and Emma was exhausted every time she came home. It was on one of these exhausting days that Emma had been out all day halfway across the city at a florist’s when she received a call.

“Emma come home quick. We need the car,” she heard a curt voice say.

“Why? I told you I’d be out!” she replied in annoyance.

There was a silence before she heard Christopher say, “It’s your mother Emma. She fell outside and cut her arm very deep. She fainted.”

Emma dropped the flowers she was holding and hung up. She rushed out of there without saying a word to the astonished florist. She instructed the driver to go home as tears fell down her face. What if she lost too much blood? What if something happened? They had their tiffs but she was her mother after all.

As soon as they reached the house she rushed upstairs to her mother’s room and flung it open. She saw Christopher, Julie, Cheryl and Mrs. and Mr. Cosgrove sitting around the bed with Jake kneeling beside the bed holding Mrs. Ralph’s hand and speaking to her quietly.

Emma ran to the bed and kneeled beside Jake looking at her mother with her tear-filled eyes.

“Mother, what happened?” she asked desperately.

 “It’s fine now Emma. It was nothing too serious,” her mother said quietly, “I cut my arm on a sharp rock and it was bleeding profusely. I fainted because I couldn’t stand the sight of blood. They wanted to rush me to the hospital but when Jake saw, he cleaned the wound and gave me stitches. They should come off in a few days apparently. Thank goodness for Dr. Walters though.”

Mrs. Ralph smiled at him as he rose, gave her a small smile and walked out of the room.

Emma sat by her mother’s bed for a while speaking to her in soft tones and when she was sure all was well, she got up and stepped out of the room. She had to thank him. She found him in the TV room fiddling with the remote and not paying attention to the screen at all.

“Jake?” she called out and he looked up.

Emma was a level-headed person and prided herself in her ability to reign in her emotions most of the time. This was not one of those times. She ran and threw herself in his arms toppling him over on the couch. She ignored the “Oomph” that escaped his lips and simply cried into his shoulder in that position for what felt like eternity. She felt him gently wrap his arms around her but she could feel he only did it in a distant manner as if being compelled to. As much as she wanted him to envelop her in his arms and tell her it was alright and (oh who was she kidding, she knew she wanted it) kiss her, she could feel just by the way he held her that none of those would happen.

“Jake I was so scared.” She whispered between her sobs.

He shushed her, “It’s ok. It was nothing. Christopher thought it was serious but she’ll be fine Emma.”

“Thank you so much!” she choked out before finally moving out of his arms.

He said nothing but just shrugged and mumbled something like “It’s just stitches.”

She walked out of the room with a confusing train of emotions haunting her mind. She didn’t feel for Jake what she felt for Christopher, of that she was sure. For the former, she felt so much more.