* * *
When I got to Mr. D’s the next morning before school, Patrick was the only one in the room. “Morning, Liz.”
“Morning. Mr. D here?” I was in a decent mood.
“Nah. He had to go to the supply room and the office or something.” He watched me carefully. “How you feeling?”
I took a deep breath and smiled. “Okay. All things considered.”
This was probably the best chance I’d get to give him his present alone. I pulled it out of my backpack. All of a sudden, I was nervous.
“Umm… Patrick. This is for you.” I handed him the card.
“What’s this?” He looked at the front of the envelope then at me.
“I wanted to get you something as a thank you for saving my life…twice. But I couldn’t think of anything that I could get you that was…well, enough or near enough to show my appreciation.”
“You don’t have to get me anything.” He was polite and sweet.
“I know, I don’t have to. I wanted to. Anyway, just open it.” I insisted.
“Okay. Okay.” He opened up the envelope. He read the note card and stared at each side of the little card I made. He held the little card and looked at me. He wrapped his arms around me and whispered in my ear. His voice cracked, “Thank you. It’s the perfect present. This means so much to me.”
“You’re welcome.” I was really happy that he liked it and it meant as much to him as it did for me. I let go and looked at him. “I realized last night that I probably freaked you out. Honestly, I didn’t mean to. But, ‘cause I wasn’t able to make that promise before, I thought that you might think that I always think of it as an option or something.”
“Kind of. There’s something in your voice last night that reminded me of the night of the carnival.” Looking into his eyes, I could see the fear that he had.
“The night of the carnival, there was no way I could promise not to do anything. I never thought I could make that promise. All I wanted was to end my life.” I think that was the first time I really said the words out loud. It was chilling.
“And…you can promise me you won’t, now?” His eyes went from black holes of fear to dancing with hope.
“Yeah. I can.” I couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t really know how to explain it, but it’s like this haze that I’ve grown so used to be surrounded, suffocated by, has thinned. I feel like things are not as dismal. I just know there’s a difference. Eh, besides…I realized that I wasn’t going to get the kind of support I wanted from my parents. So, I was going to make it despite of them.”
“That’s great.” He grinned and gave me another hug. “That makes me happy. Well, not that you’re parents don’t support you like they should but… You know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “I do.”
It was nice to know I wasn’t the only one who had ‘open mouth insert foot’ moments.
Mr. D walked in, “Hi, Liz. How are you doing?”
“Alright. Do you need any help?” His hands were full with papers and a box of office supplies.
“Sure. Thanks.” He handed me the box. “Can you guys put that stuff in the right spots back there?”
We went to the back room. Mr. D was always so organized that he had little labeled bins in the back. It was easy to tell where stuff should go. Patrick put the card I made into his wallet. He bumped his shoulder into me, leaned over and softly said, “Thanks again.”
Falling (Bits and Pieces, Book 1) Page 47