Emergency Medical Dad

LXV: november 15th, present

JORGEN

To say that I anxiety cleaned would be an understatement. I spent most of the day before working my way through my whole small house, cleaning almost every surface, fluffing pillows, trying to make it look as presentable as possible despite the fact that it always looks most of the way presentable, I'm cleaner than most twenty year old guys, but it's still freaking me out that she's going to see my house tomorrow. Connor wouldn't mind a small mess because he's a little kid but I want to make it look as adult-like as possible for Jessie.

"You're spacy," Nico waves her hand in front of my face halfway through morning practice. "Jessie's in at what time today?"

"Um," I blink, pulling myself out of my thoughts. "Three thirty."

"And do you have anything planned tonight?"

"What?" I cough. "I was supposed to have things planned?"

"I dunno," she puts her hands on her hips, looking up at me. "I figured you'd have plans to make dinner or something, you're normally prepared like that."

"Fuck."

"This has you freaked out more than I've realized then, huh," she shakes her head, smiling. "That's alight, it's cute on you."

"Hey," I flick the back of her head. "I'm not cute."

"Right, right," she rolls her eyes. "Jorgie Hadley can't be cute, got it."

"Mean," I snort, watching the ice with at least a little intent, now worried about what I'm making for dinner. "What could I make for dinner? What says comfort food and hey-welcome-to-Canada?"

She shrugs, "what's something you're good at cooking?"

"I'm a truly wholly mediocre cook. I'm not good at anything and I'm not bad at anything."

"Last time I checked you like baking just a little," she gets up on the bench next to me, also watching the ice, making sure nothing is happening that's wrong with the guys going mach 10 out there on skates just for fun. Sometimes it's truly stunning how quick they all are but I suppose if you've been training for hockey your whole life you'd hope to be fast.

"Not in a time crunch."

"Okay, what's your go-to meal?"

I frown, "I'm not shit at making pork dumplings but that's only for one serving just for me."

She pauses on that, "of all the things you could've said, pork dumplings was not one of the options running around my head."

"What could I serve with it? Because normally that's like a midnight snack for me."

"You make pork dumplings as a midnight snack, how long does that even take? Doesn't that involve dishes?"

I frown, "no? I just make a whole bunch at the beginning of every month and then eat them when I get back from late games and roadies and stuff when I don't wanna cook."

"That's actually kind of smart," she comments. "So make pork dumplings and maybe some veggie ones too. I dunno, you know what they like to eat the most."

"Not... really, but I suppose now is probably a good time to find out."

"And how did your appointment go? You should have the results back around now, right?"

I had blocked that out of my mind, mostly, "um."

"Not good, from the look on your face?"

"No, not good," I breathe. "I have a really deep set split nerve that only really gets aggravated when I do something that causes a lot of tension, and since anxiety triggers what used to be semi-mild PLP in me aggravates it."