Back to Life Series Box Set

by Danielle Allen

  Please, please God, let Emanuel be okay. I can’t take it if anything was wrong, I prayed as I clicked search. If I was being completely honest with myself, I also prayed I didn’t see a wedding announcement or a birth announcement or anything linking him to Ashlyn. It had only been a couple of weeks and I didn’t think it was likely, but I was irrational with worry, fear, and love.

  When my internet search turned up nothing, I felt relieved but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. I decided to take a long, hot bath to relax my nerves. After getting dressed for the day, it was still before 9am. The exhibit I had tickets for didn’t open until 10am so I decided to go to brunch at Fifth Street Café. The trendy restaurant near the museum served brunch and after deciding on my plans, my stomach growled with inexplicable hunger.

  The walk to Fifth Street Café took thirty minutes. With my earbuds in, I used the solitude of the walk to try to clear my mind. Since it was a beautiful fall morning, once I arrived, I decided to sit on the front patio of the café. It was completely empty, just the way I liked it. After ordering chicken and waffles, I sipped my French Vanilla latte and watched the people moving about the downtown area. The uneasy feeling continued to plague me as I waited for my food. Maybe I should text Emily just to be sure, I thought as I picked up my phone.

  Sahara Lee: Good morning… How is everything down there?

  Emily Mills: Good morning! Everything is good. Just sitting at my office in the studio. Waiting for dad to get back with his tools. Again.

  Sahara Lee: What’s your dad helping with this time?

  Emily Mills: What isn’t he helping with?! He has busied himself with all types of projects recently. Unfortunately, all of the projects are here. I love him but I need a break!

  Sahara Lee: LOL! He’s just trying to help!

  Emily Mills: Yeah, but I have things to do!!!!!!!!

  Emily Mills: What are you up to?

  Sahara Lee: At brunch. Something has been bothering me…

  Emily Mills: Is it about the duet?

  Sahara Lee: I told you last night, anything you want me to do for your wedding, I’m willing to do.

  Emily Mills: Well if it’s not that, what’s wrong?

  Sahara Lee: The nightmares are back. And I had a panic attack.

  Emily Mills: Why? What’s going on? I thought the nightmares stopped after you started therapy.

  Sahara Lee: They did. I haven’t had one since I started. It’s been weeks. But last night, it happened and it was bad. One of the worst ones I’ve ever had. And I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

  Sahara Lee: Have you talked to Emanuel?

  Emily Mills: Yeah. Dad talked him into coming here to help so he’s going to pick him up after he gets his tools. I didn’t want to say anything because I know it’s still a sensitive subject.

  Sahara Lee: I appreciate that. Is he okay?

  Emily Mills: It depends on what you mean by okay…

  Sahara Lee: What do you mean?

  Emily Mills: He’s going through a lot. He just got back yesterday from hiking the Appalachian Trail for a week. He went completely off the grid.

  Sahara Lee: Oh wow.

  Emily Mills: Yeah…

  Sahara Lee: I’m going to call you later. My food is here.

  Emily Mills: I only told you because you asked. Don’t freak out.

  Sahara Lee: I’m not freaking out. I’m fine. Call me tonight!

  Emily Mills: I’ll call you as soon as they leave the studio. You sure you’re okay?

  Sahara Lee: I’m fine.

  But I wasn’t fine. I was far from it. The uneasy feeling settled into the pit of my stomach and made it turn. The food that sat before me no longer was appetizing as I reached around the hot plate for my water glass. Sipping the cool water managed to cool me down. As I chewed on a piece of ice, I thought about the nightmare. Where did it come from? I wondered as I chewed another piece of ice. I talked to Ty last night so I know he’s safe. And now I know that Emanuel is safe. He went off the grid for a while but he’s been through a lot. He just found out he was going to be a father. That’s a lot to digest. He’s going through a lot but he’s safe. They are both safe. So why do I feel like this? What is about to go wrong? I wondered as I chomped down on the ice hard and swallowed. The jagged edges of the ice scraped my throat, but I barely noticed. Although the nagging feeling that something bad was about to happen still made my hair stand on end, I felt more in control than I’d ever felt.

  “May I ask why you are grimacing when you have on that beautiful green dress?” Dr. Summers’ pleasant voice shook me out of my dark thoughts.

  Whipping my head to the right, I saw Dr. Summers’ smiling face and I instantly felt embarrassed. I just told her I chose Ty and here I am the very next day thinking about Emanuel. I need to get it together, I thought as I stood, smoothing out my printed Nanette Lepore dress. I reached out to shake her hand and she enveloped me into a hug. Startled, I tensed a bit before hugging her back stiffly.

  “You looked like you needed it,” she winked. Her pale skin looked almost luminescent in the morning sun. She wore a yellow flowing dress and a pair of purple and yellow ballet slippers. Although her color combo was questionable, she pulled it off. She looked as happy as the yellow she wore. “How are you Sahara?”

  “I’m fine. How are you Dr. Summers? You look well,” I countered, giving her my most upbeat smile.

  “Sahara…” she sighed before giving me a disapproving stare. With her voice lowered, she whispered, “I’ve been doing what I do for a long time. I know what fine looks like. I also know what deflection looks like.”

  She was absolutely right and I couldn’t do anything but nod. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Of course I am,” Dr. Summers said in a comforting tone. She gestured to my chair. “Have a seat; don’t let me disrupt your meal. I just saw you sitting on the balcony and I wanted to say hello. You looked upset.”

  “Are you here alone?” I asked, changing the subject yet again. I sat down in my chair and gestured to the chair on the opposite side of the table.

  Dr. Summers stared at me long and hard. Our silence was masked by the busy sounds of city life. Looking in her eyes, I knew she knew I wasn’t okay. I knew she knew I was deflecting. She knows me too well, I realized as I smiled at her.

  Smiling knowingly, Dr. Summers sat down at the table. “No. I’m waiting for my husband. A friend gave us tickets to an event for our anniversary. We were supposed to meet here for breakfast but he is running a bit behind. He got held up at the office so I ordered some fresh muffins and coffee to go.”

  I took a sip of water and nodded at my off duty therapist. She looked so happy and free. Will that ever be me? Will I ever be free of the damage that I cause others? I wondered as I rubbed the condensation from my water glass between my fingers and avoided eye contact with Dr. Summers.

  “Here you are ma’am,” the waiter said with a white paper bag and a large coffee in hand. Dr. Summers thanked him as she stood to retrieve her items from him.

  When the waiter walked away, Dr. Summers turned to me. She patted my shoulder with her free hand and said warmly, “See you soon, Sahara.”

  “Yes. Have a good day,” I responded. Well that was interesting, I thought as I sank back in my chair and watched her walk away.

  Taking a deep breath, I took a bite of my cold waffle. The buttery goodness of the waffle danced over my taste buds and landed with a thud in the pit of my stomach. I can’t eat right now. Something is wrong. I know it, I thought as I pushed the plate away from me.

  Looking at my phone, I reread old text messages. I had deleted text messages from Emanuel as I received them, leaving only messages from the three people with my number: Emily, Ty, and Ben. I hadn’t really talked to Ben since the incident with his father. He had called and texted, but I was so overwhelmed with making up with Ty to entertain the Sullivan family drama.

  Maybe I should call Ben now, I thought trying to take a minute
to steer my thoughts away from what could be wrong with Ty or Emanuel. After receiving the check, I left the money for my meal on the table. As soon as I walked out of Fifth Street Café, I called Ben.

  Picking up on the first ring, Ben answered, “Sahara!” His voice sounded both surprised and relieved.

  “Hi, Ben. How are you?” I asked nonchalantly. Taking my time, I walked in the direction of the museum.

  “Very well, thank you,” Ben snapped with sarcasm. “You’re the one that’s been missing. Where the bloody hell have you been?”

  “I’ve had a lot going on. We should talk. What are you doing today?”

  “I’m free late this afternoon. Does 4 or 5 work?”

  “Yes that’s fine.”

  “I’ll meet you at One38.”

  “Okay, see you then,” I concluded the conversation. I put my phone in my handbag and rotated my head in a circle. The lack of sleep was catching up to me as I waited to cross the street.

  Walking into the cold museum, I cursed myself for not bringing the sweater I looked at before walking out of my closet. I showed my ticket to the young girl at the kiosk located directly in front of the main entryway. Pointing me to the elevator, I quickly made it to the 3rd floor where the special exhibition was being showcased. Handing my ticket to a man with a nametag that said Matthew, I walked to a bench in front of a random painting. It was a black canvas with a bunch of small red and white pictures that created the shape of a heart. Cocking my head to the side, I couldn’t decide if I liked it or not. It’s simple…and maybe even a bit commonplace. But something seems off, I thought, studying the piece..

  “Hi, I’m Matthew,” the man who took my ticket when I walked in. “There’s quite a few of us around so there’s no need for you to have to wait for the tour.” Matthew had brassy brown hair that was the color of copper. He had a ruddy complexion and bright, blue eyes that were striking. Easily his best feature, I thought as I looked up at him.

  Standing, I reached my hand out to shake his before saying, “Hi Matthew, I’m Sahara. Yes, I would love to begin my tour.” I’m ready to let the beauty of the art get me out of my own head, I thought as I followed him to the beginning of the tour.

  The artist, simply known as Willow, had garnered a lot of attention on the East Coast due to the skill and storytelling ability of her work. As Matthew and I made our way through the exhibit, I felt the unease and jitters of the nightmare slowly fading away. The exhibit, entitled Strength, showcased various people creatively exhibiting strength. The way in which each of the pieces was executed was mesmerizing. I listened to Matthew explain each piece in detail as I allowed myself to get caught up in the unadulterated talent of Willow. I was so captivated by the exhibit; I didn’t realize Matthew and I were joined by another group.

  “Matthew, can this group join you for the rest of the tour?” a woman asked from just behind me.

  Matthew and I turned around and I came face to face with a group of people, including Dr. Edward Sullivan. I was so surprised I jumped slightly. His eyes widened slightly before he recovered. “Sahara,” he smiled.

  “Dr. Sullivan,” I said evenly. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he got under my skin, I thought as I squared my shoulders and pursed my lips.

  Chuckling softly, he replied, “It’s good to see you. You look well.”

  “Thank you.” I glanced at Matthew who was looking between us in confusion. I then let my eyes follow the woman who had dropped Dr. Sullivan off scurry away through the crowd.

  “So…would you like me to recap this piece for you sir?” Matthew asked. He put his hands behind his back and eyed the taller man questioningly.

  “No. We can move on. My wife is on her way over here now. She stopped to talk to our son.”

  “Very well. You two can follow me,” Matthew called over his shoulder.

  Ben is here? I wondered as I turned around to follow Matthew to the next canvas. I didn’t want to give Dr. Sullivan the opportunity to see any emotion on my face.

  We all moved silently to the next display. The oversized portrait was intriguing, but I couldn’t relax in the presence of Dr. Sullivan. When I heard his voice, it grated on me.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize you’d be joining us for the tour.” Dr. Sullivan said with faked cheer. Curiosity got the best of me and I glanced over my shoulder to see the elusive Mrs. Sullivan.

  “I turned my head and found myself face to face with Ben and his father. They were exact replicas of each other. They shared the same chocolate brown skin, handsome features, and muscularly built bodies; however, where Ben’s face was frozen in shock, Dr. Sullivan’s face looked amused.

  Sahara?” Ben balked in surprise. I had never heard his voice sound so pitchy. If I wasn’t dreading the whole unnecessary family drama interrupting my serene art experience, I may have giggled at Ben’s voice.

  “Good morning,” I replied calmly, keeping my voice down as to not disrupt the tour.

  Stepping forward, Ben placed his hand on my shoulder. “Can you come with me right now please?” His voice sounded desperate.

  I furrowed my brows and narrowed my eyes. “No.”

  “Please Sahara. I need to explain something to you. Please,” Ben begged as his father and the rest of the group moved to the next exhibit.

  I glanced over at the group at the next exhibit and sighed, “Look. We agreed to talk later, so let’s just talk later. I really needed this exhibit to clear my mind. And you and your father have taken me all the way out of my comfort zone.”

  Ben swallowed hard. “When we first met…becoming friends was not my agenda.”

  Oh God, not this again, I internally groaned as I crossed my arms over my chest. If he tells me he’s in love with me, I’m going to scream. I have my plate full as it is. I don’t need—.

  Ben looked past me before looking into my eyes again. “Look, we are friends now. And I would never do anything to jeopardize that friendship. I—”

  “Benjamin, you need to leave before your mother sees you again,” Dr. Sullivan whispered sharply from behind me.

  Startled, I jumped again. Looking between Dr. Sullivan and Ben, I felt like my place of solitude and solace was being commandeered by the Sullivan men and I didn’t need that added stress in my life.

  “Don’t bother. I’m leaving,” I announced as I stormed across the museum floor, dodging and avoiding people enjoying their special exhibition experience.

  “Sahara!” Ben called behind me. I moved faster and tried to lose him in the crowd.

  Once I made it to one of the two elevator banks, I hit the down button and then put my back against the wall beside the elevator buttons. I don’t want Ben or his father to sneak up on me. I want to leave here and not deal with them, I thought as I crossed my arms across my chest and skimmed the faces heading to the elevator. Ben’s face emerged from the crowd as soon as the elevator dinged. I waited impatiently for the door to open and I glared at him until he slowed to a stop several feet away from me.

  “Sahara, please wait,” Ben pleaded as he moved slowly. The doors to the elevator opened. His eyes shifted and immediately, his face fell.

  “Benjamin, where’s your father? He sent me to the car and forgot to give me the keys,” the voice called out of the elevator as a woman pushed a man in a wheelchair out of the elevator first.

  I knew that voice. I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I didn’t make a sound. I just listened.

  “Excuse me,” the woman said as she stepped off of the elevator around the people who had just gotten off. Once she was completely off of the elevator, I recognized her immediately. She was so determined to get to her son, she didn’t even notice me with my back pressed against the wall.

  As if on cue, Dr. Sullivan came out of the crowd and spotted his wife and son. They were both walking toward Ben as he stood unmoving staring at me. With her back to me, Ben’s mother didn’t notice me. But Ben’s father saw me when he was only a couple of feet away from them. When
he caught my eye, he stopped in his tracks. His wife looked at him and then over at me. And she too froze.

  I felt like I had been punched in the gut as I watched the pieces fit into place. The elevator door closed and traveled to another floor while I stood against the wall staring at her. Don’t have a panic attack. Don’t have a panic attack. Breathe, breathe, breathe, I thought as I stared at a woman I thought I knew.

  Ben and Dr. Sullivan stood and watched as she made her way over to me. When we were face to face, she gave me a tight, almost apologetic smile. “Sahara,” she said in a controlled, even tone. Her eyes betrayed her and expressed the uncertainty that I felt.

  Chapter 23

  “Deborah…” I breathed in shock as my hand hovered above my chest.

  The momentarily stunned expression on the face of Deborah Jones was a stark change from the stoic expression I was used to seeing from her. She took a few tentative steps my way as I pressed my back more firmly against the wall. Ben and Dr. Sullivan were on her heels immediately. Deborah stopped short and held up her hand to indicate she wanted her son and husband to stay put and then she continued walking toward me.

  Stopping in front of me, Deborah greeted me, “Hello Sahara.” Her brown eyes were wide and unblinking. Her wrinkled face looked more youthful. She just looked different—more carefree, more expressive—than when I last saw her in Richland.

  She almost looked nervous. Almost, I thought as I lifted my hands in defeat, shaking my head. “Deborah, what is going on?” I asked in a hushed whisper.

  “Come with me,” she instructed me as she hit the elevator button.

  The elevator furthest away opened and we silently walked that way. Before getting into the elevator car, I looked back at Ben. His expression was unreadable but his body language wasn’t. He was pacing and gesturing wildly to his father. We watched in silence as the older man nodded and listened. The door slid closed, leaving Deborah and I vacuum sealed in the elevator alone. No words were spoken the entire time. I fiddled with the hemline of my dress and rocked side to side slightly as the smooth jazz eased through the speakers. My mind was a complete blank as I tried to wrap my mind around what was going on.