by Kyle Autumn
I smile back and then make my way around my car to them.
“I’m glad you’re in a better mood today, Zoeybell. I don’t like to see you so stressed out,” he tells her. Then he pulls back from her.
She waves him off. “I know. Just a lot going on at work.” She kisses him on his cheek and then walks past him to go inside the house.
Her dad hangs behind and throws his arm around my shoulder, squeezing me to him as we walk to the door. “Hi, Patti.”
“Hey, Dad,” I say back, accepting his warm, loving hug.
“Thanks for taking care of our girl.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” I reply.
On the step before the doorway, he stops us and faces me. After a quiet moment, he rubs his hand over his mouth. “Do you know what’s going on with her? She’s been moody and stressed. I think it’s more than work, but she doesn’t want us to worry.”
For the second time today, I swallow hard, struck speechless. I open my mouth to answer him, but I shut it right away so nothing “bad” comes out. I center myself and try again. “She’ll have to tell you herself, though I can assure you that she’s healthy and has me in her corner one hundred percent.”
He releases a relieved breath and startles me by suddenly hugging me with a really tight grip. Like, I can barely breathe.
“Oh, thank the Lord,” he whispers in a shaky voice. When he leans back, he keeps his arms on my shoulders. “Her mother and I are so thankful for you. You’re the sister we couldn’t give her and a daughter we were never blessed with. You’re the best thing we could ask for for our daughter.” Then he kisses me on my cheek and gestures with his head toward the inside of their house. “I’ll make sure Beth makes your favorite meal next Friday.”
I press my lips into a thin line as I attempt to smile and nod. But my heart is stuck in my throat. I finally understand why Zo’s so scared of disappointing them. Yes, they’re her parents, and yes, they seem to have their priorities backwards, but they’re kind, loving, giving people otherwise. They’ve loved her all of her life and me for most of mine. They truly want what’s best for her, even if their idea of what’s best doesn’t match up with her version. Or mine.
When their love is shining on me, I can’t deny that need to please them too. But the day will come where they know the truth about what’s really eating at their daughter. And I hope Zo and I strong enough together to withstand their disapproval. Though I already know I’ll selfishly spend some time hoping they won’t disapprove of me personally.
Chapter 10
Patti
“Honestly, I don’t care which movie we see,” I tell Zo for the fifth time, rolling my eyes. “You pick. Whatever you want.”
“You don’t have to be rude about it,” she mumbles under her breath as she unbuckles her seat belt.
As she gets out of the car, I say, “I’m not being rude, Zed.” Then I mumble, “I just really don’t care which fucking movie you choose,” to myself before opening my car door.
“You sure sound like it to me.” She throws her arms in the air. “Seriously, what’s been up with you tonight? You were fine earlier, but once we got to my parents’ house, it was…”
I tune her out as we approach the movie theater. Yes, I’ve been weird. All night, I’ve been thinking about the very thing that worries her to her core. And I understand it now. I don’t think it’s enough for me to break things off with her, but I certainly see where she’s coming from. This, however, doesn’t feel like the time to bring it up. Not on a first date. Can’t we be normal on our first date? For shit’s sake.
She’s still going on when I open the door for her, but as soon as I walk in, I find a familiar face in the line to buy movie tickets. Two of them, actually.
“Are you even listening to me?” Zo whines.
I grab her wrist and pull her back toward me.
“Ouch. What the heck, Patti?” She tugs out of my grip and rubs her wrist. Then she finally looks right at me.
I’m frozen in my spot, staring at the backs of Lyra’s and Blake’s heads. When Zo realizes I’m not moving or playing around, she follows my gaze. And gasps. But then she moves us out of the way of the doorway and takes a breath.
“We’re not doing anything abnormal, remember?” she says. “Friends go to the movies all the time.”
“Uh, yeah,” I spit out, “but you’re forgetting the part where we both told Lyra that we had dates tonight.”
Her eyes flash wide for a moment. She regains her composure and says, “Okay, fine. Maybe they were shitty and we both met up here.” One of her eyebrows rises, and then they both fall when she scrunches her forehead. “Hey. Wait a minute. Why am I being the logical one here?”
Under normal circumstances, I’d laugh at that. Because she has a point. I’m usually the one to think things through, not get ahead of myself. She’s the worrywart. The one who overthinks things to death. But, after everything that came up with her folks earlier and now this, we’ve switched places. And I don’t know how much more I can take tonight.
When I peek around her, Lyra and Blake are handing their tickets to the attendant. A few moments later, they’re out of sight. But what if they decide they want popcorn and have to come back out here? What if Lyra gets thirsty and sends Blake for something to drink and he runs into Zo while I’m in the bathroom?
My god. Is this how Zo feels twenty-four-seven? Good grief. No wonder she has panic attacks. I might have one right now.
Zo’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Are they here on a date? Is that what she decided on when she got off the phone with us?”
“Stop!” I say too loudly, throwing my hands in the air. So I quiet my voice. “Just stop.” Then I shove the door open hard enough for both of us to walk through it. “I don’t know, but we could have been caught tonight. I was too distracted, and this could have—”
“Hey.” Zo pulls on my arm as we go back to the car.
When I stop and face her, she slides her hand down my arm and interlaces our fingers.
“I’m not usually the one to say this,” she says, a small smile on her lips, “but come back to now.”
That phrase is supposed to work in a situation just like this one. I don’t know if she knows where the phrase came from, but I’ve been using it on her for years now, and it works. And I do want to relax, tug her to me, and kiss her right on the mouth in front of everyone. Prove to her that we’re stronger no matter what is thrown in our path because we’re together. In my heart right now, I’m just not sure I feel that. With or without the reminder of being present with her.
For show, I inhale deeply. But the air in my lungs does give me a moment of peace to stop and think about things differently. I love Zo. That’s for sure. I love her family too though. And I love our friends, but I don’t think they’re going to care. Not in a bad way, anyway. However, my love for Zo—does it come before my love for everyone else? Does it win above all others?
As I exhale, the answer nearly brings me to my knees.
“We should go home and talk,” I tell her, squeezing her fingers. I don’t smile because I’m all business right now.
“Okay,” she drawls, stretching the word out for a few seconds. “But you’re freaking me out now. And you know how I get when I worry.”
“I know, Zed.” I start to walk toward the car again. “Come on.”
***
Zo
I don’t know what the heck is going on with her, but when we almost get caught and she is the one to freak out? Something’s obviously wrong. And, now, she wants to go home and talk. When we’re supposed to be going on our first date. When we’re supposed to be enjoying our time as a new couple. When I was finally starting to wrap my head around all of this.
Now, she wants to talk. Now of all times.
Oh god. What if she’s about to break up with me? What if, after all of these years she’s wanted to be with me, she finally got a taste and I’m not at all what she thought she wa
nted? What if I’ve spent the last several weeks doing things my parents would be ashamed of with a woman and she’s going to leave me? What if I finally admitted to myself how I feel about her and I’m not enough?
Suddenly, when we pull into my driveway, my lungs lock up and I can’t pull any air in. Not a single ounce. My chest constricts with the effort it’s taking to attempt to breathe, and I close my eyes to make the world stop spinning, but the lack of oxygen is making me lightheaded. I’m vaguely aware of Patti putting her car into park and reaching for her seat belt, but I’m mainly trying to stop my heart from pounding right out of my chest. Though I don’t have the first clue on how to do that if I can’t control my breathing.
“Zed?” Patti asks, but her voice sounds far away, like I’m underwater and not sitting in her car. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
Frantically, I shake my head. But I’m already super dizzy and the movement makes it so much worse. Squeezing my eyes shut, I rest my head on the headrest and try to breathe, but I can’t for the life of me calm down. My shallow breaths are doing nothing to make me feel like I’m getting enough oxygen, so I lean forward and put my head between my knees.
“Oh my god. What do I do?” she questions as she puts her hand on my back. “Zo? What am I supposed to do?”
“Turn the air on,” I tell her, though my words are muffled because my head’s in my lap. But I need the cool air. I’m sweating everywhere, the scorching heat inside me becoming unbearable.
What the hell is going on with me?
“Okay,” she says, jumping into action.
The air conditioner kicks on a second later and cools my heated skin. But there’s still one problem cooler air won’t fix. I can’t freaking breathe. My tongue is also starting to tingle for some reason. And I’m this close to blacking out.
“ER,” I croak out.
“What?” she asks. “I’m sorry. I can’t hear you.”
I sit up a little, as much as my dizzy head will allow. The movement makes the world spin the other way, and that causes my stomach to lurch. I take some more shallow breaths just to keep breathing, but I’m fairly certain I’m about to die again. Like, really certain. So I need to go to the hospital. Right now.
“ER,” I repeat just above my legs. “Take me to the ER.”
She’s frozen for a moment, but then she puts her seat belt back on and backs out of my driveway. Her right hand rubs my back while she drives, and that’s my only anchor to this world. The only thing keeping me rooted here, conscious and hoping to live through this terrifying episode. Because, if I’m not going to die right now, I need something to live for. And it just might be the hand on my back.
So I plead with whoever will listen. Don’t let her break up with me. I’ll be better. I’ll be different—whoever she needs me to be. I’ll tell whoever she wants me to tell. I’ll do anything for this woman. I haven’t had enough time with her, and I haven’t told her I love her yet. So don’t take me away now. I need more time.
I chant these things over and over again until it’s my turn to be seen by the ER doctor. What a great first date.
***
Patti
“Well, the good news is that no one’s ever died from a panic attack,” the ER doctor tells my girlfriend.
“If it’s going to happen for a first time, it’ll be to me,” she replies, not a drop of humor in her tone.
His smile is comforting—to me, at least. “Let’s get you set up with an antianxiety medication that’ll help keep you calm. Just a low dose for now to see how it works for you, okay?” He puts a hand on her shoulder. “You’re going to be fine.”
She might be fine in the future, but we need her to be fine right now. Which leads me to some questions.
“Are there things we can do in the meantime while the medication kicks in?” I peek at her from my spot in the extra chair in the room, but she’s still staring at her legs. “Stress management, breathing exercises? What about discovering her triggers?”
She finally looks at me, and her expression says How would you know about those things?
“What?” I shrug. “I started Googling stuff while we were waiting to be seen.”
I swear I see the hint of a smile curl the corners of her lips, but then the doctor answers my questions.
“Yes, actually.” he says. “Those are great things to do right now. Meditation, keeping stress low, practicing some yoga. Try those things as well. And there are several breathing techniques that can help stop panic attacks in their tracks.” He turns back to Zo, smiling warmly at her. “You have a pretty good friend in this one.” He points his manila folder with her chart at me. “I think you’re going to be okay.”
“Hear that, Zed? You’re gonna live.” I wink at her, but suddenly, she’s all ice again.
The doctor backs up toward the door. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll go get that prescription for you. Then you can get home, rest, and relax. Okay?”
She nods once. Sharply. And continues staring at her lap, wringing her hands on top of her thighs. Once the doctor has shut the door, she rounds on me.
“I really thought I was going to die, Patti. If you haven’t had a panic attack, then you have no idea what this feels like. And it literally feels like you’re going to drop dead.”
I throw my hands up in surrender. “Whoa. Okay. Sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” she spits back at me. “Sorry for wasting your time here at the ER all night? Sorry for finally getting what you wanted only to realize it’s nothing like what you thought it would be? Or are you sorry for the words you’re going to use when you dump me?”
With wide eyes, I stare back at the crazy person who’s taken my girlfriend’s body over. Granted, she just had some weird death-defying experience. But shit. What in the ever-loving hell is she talking about? Dump her? Not what I thought it would be?
“Um, what?” is all I manage to say in answer.
“Don’t give me that,” she says, her words tight as she fidgets with her fingers. “Everyone knows what ‘we have to talk’ means.” Then she scoffs. “And to think I was falling in love with you.”
Every smartass retort I have dies on my tongue when the L-word comes into play. Those dead words dry my mouth out. I’m speechless, which is good because I couldn’t possibly speak right now even if I tried.
“Thanks for at least sparing me that much. I might be able to recover from this once you drop me off at home.” She shakes her head. “Never mind. Better yet, I’ll just Uber it home inst—”
“Okay, enough!” I say loudly enough to cut her stream of nonsense off.
The doctor chooses now to knock on the door and come back into the room, so my potential tirade is cut short. We’ll finish this in the car, and that’s exactly the look I give her right before the doctor focuses on us.
“All right. Here’s your prescription,” he says, handing her a sheet of paper. Then he hands her another. “And here’s a good breathing technique you can try when you feel another panic attack coming on. You know the signs now, so practice your breathing and you’ll be fine. Come back and see us if anything else happens, okay?” There’s his warm, friendly smile again. “No stress. Doctor’s orders.” He points a teasing finger at her as his smile grows. Then he winks.
“Thanks,” Zo tells him, clutching the two pieces of paper in her hands.
As the doctor backs away to the door, she hops off the hospital bed. While she’s picking her purse up off the counter, I get a peek at her toenails and remember that this was supposed to be a date. We were supposed to see a movie, hold hands in the dark, and maybe sneak a kiss like we were teenagers trying not to get caught by our parents. This was supposed to be a fun night for us, and instead, it went to shit. Ended up with a trip to the hospital and everything.
Will this be a story we’ll tell our friends’ grandchildren? Our own if we adopt? Will we even be together through the night? One look at Zo’s face leaves me with no clue. But she used the L-word,
and maybe it’s playing dirty, but I’m putting that in my pocket for future use if I have to.
Once we’re back out to my car, I hit the unlock button on my fob, but I grab her door handle so she can’t get in just yet. “You’re an expensive date,” I say, trying to joke with her. It might be the wrong time, but I haven’t been known for my timing lately.
Somehow, though, it penetrates her tough-chick exterior and she lets out a small giggle. Which turns into a chuckle that morphs into a full-belly laugh. There’s the girl I’ve wanted to see all night. No, I haven’t been a bundle of joy, but she, per the doctor’s orders, doesn’t need more stress in her life. She needs to laugh more, feel freer and more joy. She doesn’t need a tough conversation that’ll freak her out. She doesn’t need my worry to be piled on top of her own.
So I open her car door, let her get in, and then take us back to her place. No drama in sight.
Chapter 11
Zo
“Oh my. That feels…” My words trail off as I try to think of one that accurately describes how delicious this bath water is on my skin. Instead, I leave it at that, resting my head back on the rolled-up towel behind my neck, and smile.
As soon as we got back from the ER, Patti took me straight to my bathroom, where she drew a hot bath and lit candles to keep the lighting dim. No stress, the doctor said. And it seems she’s taking him seriously.
I’ll take it seriously too. I don’t know how yet, considering that everything about my relationship is drama right now. And, even after we tell people, it still might be stressful drama. But, like Patti reminded me in the car, I need to stay focused on what I can control. Right now, I can control how relaxed I am in this tub of gloriously warm water.
Perhaps I’m ignoring the fact that I told her I was falling in love with her. And I might also be ignoring the fact that I accused her of wanting to break up with me. I don’t know if she’s here because the doctor said I don’t need any stress and she doesn’t want to stress me out. But I don’t want to know yet. I just want to enjoy one more night where Patti and I are together. No drama. No stress. Just us.