Panic (The Flaw Series)

by Ringbloom, Ryan

  “Robin, I placed this ring on your scar because when I ask you to marry me right now, and you say yes, whenever I see that scar it will always remind me of the most amazing moment of my life. The moment you agreed to become my wife.” The ring balances on her lower belly and her teary eyes meet mine. “I will always love you. Without you, I’m nothing. Robin Barnes, will you marry me?”

  I lift the ring from the scar and slide it on her finger. Her hands reach up to my cheeks, “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I look into your eyes and I see everything I’ve ever wanted — love, marriage, children, a home, family, happiness. I also see that there are some bumps in the roads ahead. This is true for every couple. But I know with you at my side, we can handle anything.” I raise my eyebrows up and she smiles.

  She bites down on her lip, then extends her hand, looking down at the ring I placed on her finger. The first tear slips down her cheek. Her head nods yes first and then she manages to actually say the word. “Yes.”

  The lights stay on as I make love to my future wife. Nothing is hidden. Exposed and naked, she’s wearing nothing but the engagement ring.

  Chapter Eleven

  Robin

  “I’ll see you next week.”

  “Thank you.”

  I stand up from the couch, always feeling better after one of my sessions with Dr. Fortin. She listens, discusses, and helps at lifting the dark cloud that sometimes creeps in. The rattling questions in my head get answered. The sorrow I feel gets dealt with. The panic that often coursed through me has finally ceased.

  The support from my family is incredible. It goes above and beyond. It was through Ashley’s encouragement that I found Dr. Fortin, and even though I was scared, seeing her has been more beneficial than I could have ever imagined.

  After scheduling my next appointment, I head over to meet Kent at Shaken. Our wedding date is set for late spring and we’re hoping to have the wedding there. It would be the ideal location, relaxed and casual with plenty of room to accommodate our family and friends. We’re meeting with Jordyn to go over all the details. The only detail we’re set on so far is that Kent wants lemon cake.

  We’ve also been getting familiar with the adoption process. We’re still a long way off from being ready to start a family. We just want to be prepared for when we are ready so we’ll understand what to expect. It’s a long process, but one I know will be worth it.

  Jordyn and Kent are sitting at the bar waiting when I walk in. Jordyn stands up and greets me, extending her hand for me to shake. I love how sophisticated and proper she always is. She’s perfectly elegant and extremely intelligent. It’s probably a huge part of why this bar has become a huge success in the short time it’s been open. Well, that and the amazing band that plays here.

  Between Kent’s full schedule and my new job, it’s a fair assumption that once we’re married we’ll be able to start house hunting. We both have agreed to distance ourselves, at least by a block or two, from the street containing the rest of his family.

  “All right let’s start planning this wedding.” Kent walks over and lifts me up off my feet. “Are you excited?”

  “Yes, I am.” I answer enthusiastically. Big or small, every girl dreams of planning her wedding day.

  Jordyn hands us each a folder and the second we open it, Kent’s phone sounds and a moment later so does mine. We each look down at the messages we received and then back up at each other.

  “Do you think she’s doing this because we wouldn’t let her help plan the wedding?” Kent asks.

  “Stop it, she can’t control when she goes into labor.” I swat playfully at his chest with the folder we didn’t even get a chance to view yet. Ashley had been quite insulted when we turned down her offer to plan and pay for our entire wedding. She wanted it to be her gift to us. We declined gently. She had been appalled learning we were hoping to have the wedding at the bar. I have to laugh. Her going into labor at this exact moment is a bit of a coincidence.

  “Jordyn, I’m sorry we need to leave like this,” Kent says. “It looks like our niece is going to be just like her momma and wants to help with the wedding planning, too.”

  “No problem. The date is all set and we’ll figure out the rest whenever you’re ready,” Jordyn says. “In the meantime, take the folders with you and look them over.” She politely walks with us over to the door. A shiny platinum band gleams off her hand as she waves goodbye.

  Ashley’s mother and the Daniels are already in the waiting area and they fill us in on what we’ve missed, which isn’t much. According to Patrick’s last update, it could be a while.

  An hour goes by and Patrick comes out to the waiting area with another update. His face is flushed with a mixture of fear and excitement. We all rush up from our seats to hear what’s going on.

  “The contractions are still far apart and the doctor says it still could be quite some time before she’s fully dilated. Ashley is getting antsy and losing patience. She’s in there driving everybody nuts. She sent me out here to see if you guys had the chance to go to Shaken before we sent you the text.”

  “We went, but we didn’t stay or plan anything yet. Jordyn just gave us folders with the menu and stuff like that,” I say, waving my hand to show it was no big deal. I hope they don’t feel bad that our plans were interrupted.

  Patrick clasps a hand over his mouth, takes a breath, then drops his hand down. “She wants to see the folder.”

  We all exchange glances. The woman is about to give birth and wants to see the menu for our wedding?

  “That’s ridiculous,” Kent says.

  “Okay, well you go in and tell her that, because I certainly won’t,” Patrick replies, a bit frazzled. Throughout her pregnancy, Ashley had more than a few crazy moments and I can imagine being with her during her labor is no picnic.

  Kent looks over at me, shaking his head at the absurdity of the request. I link my arm with his, pulling him away. “It’s in the car. We’ll go get it and be right back,” I say over my shoulder to a relieved Patrick.

  “We haven’t even looked at it yet.” Kent grumbles once we’re outside the hospital. “She is not planning this wedding.”

  “Come on, it’s kind of funny. She’s probably just anxious and needs something to focus on for a few minutes. You know how Ashley is.” I laugh but Kent refuses to see the humor in it. The folders are in my car and I reach in, grabbing both of them from the front seat. “We may as well look one over too while we wait.”

  Kent takes the folders from me, tucking them under his arm. He stops us, taking both of my hands in his. “You doing okay with all this?” he asks, searching my eyes.

  “With being here at the hospital? I think it’s exciting. I love that when our niece enters the world we’ll be right outside waiting. We get to be among the very first few people to meet her.” My sentiment is a hundred-percent genuine.

  It’s hard not to focus on the glamour of a pregnancy when it’s something you know you’ll never get to experience. But pregnancy is temporary and watching Ashley these past months has helped me realize it’s certainly not all that glamorous.

  Kent presses his lips to the side of my head. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

  “Me too.” I tilt my head up and our lips meet for a lingering kiss.

  Back in the waiting area, we pass off the folder and Patrick disappears behind the swinging hospital doors leading to the delivery rooms.

  The next few hours are spent drinking coffee and anxiously glancing at the door, waiting for the big news. Ashley’s mother paces the floor, clutching onto a bottle of water. Matthew overdoes it on snacks from the vending machine and Tessa arrives late, bursting into the waiting area, relieved not to have missed anything.

  It’s the middle of the night when Patrick finally re-emerges from the doors; his eyes are moist and there’s a huge smile on his face. “Lola Marie Daniels is here.”

  We all rush to him at onc
e, hugs and questions running rampant.

  “Ashley is doing great. Lola is perfect. She’s beautiful and so tiny. Yes, you can all see her, just not all at once.” Patrick tries answering everything getting thrown at him, grinning and swiping at his eyes at the same time.

  It’s a while before we’re brought back to the room and are able to get our first glimpse of the perfect little girl. Her little face peeks out of a tightly wrapped blanket being held in her father’s arms.

  Looking at the teeny bundle Patrick’s holding onto so lovingly, my eyes fill with tears. I let them spill out because they are absolutely positively tears of joy. Kent pulls me in and I use his shirt to dab at my eyes.

  One day, years from now, I know we’ll get to experience our own journey to a child. It’ll be different but I’m sure it will also be equally exciting. When the time’s right, it will happen. The stars in the sky will align perfectly. A baby out there will need us. . . .

  And we’ll need the baby even more.

  Part Two

  Three years later…

  Chapter One

  Shayna

  A palm tree.

  My nose presses up against the window so I can get a better view. I’ve never seen a palm tree in real life before. More of them come into view and I keep staring in wonderment. They’re so beautiful and tropical, it’s like paradise. I’m moving to paradise.

  The bus door squeaks open and I step off into the inviting Floridian night air. Palm trees sway in the warm breeze in the middle of February. Tingles of excitement prickle my skin. I grew up in Ohio, never stepped one foot out of the state in my whole life. I never even strayed more than a few miles out of my hometown. Not until today.

  I walk right up to one of the swaying palm trees, position myself in front of it, and take a selfie to text to my mom. Made it to Florida, just relaxing under a palm tree.

  Two minutes later I check and see that my mother responded with a smiley face. Good, she knows I arrived safe and now I don’t need to call her. She and I have one of those weird mother/daughter relationships where it’s not really obvious who’s the child and who’s the parent. She fell in love really young, got married, had me, and divorced — all in the span of one year. I never even met my dad. I saw a picture of him once. He looks nothing like me or, I suppose, I look nothing like him. My mom’s reply to that always was, “Thank God.”

  My cousin and her family packed up and left the dull state of Ohio about ten years ago, upgrading to the sunny state of Florida. We lost touch with them after they moved. My mom couldn’t be bothered to pick up the phone; that is, when we actually had phone service. My mom believes bills don’t need to be paid until it’s absolutely necessary. Electric, phone, cable, rent, those things didn’t get paid until we were sitting in the dark with an eviction notice taped to our door. Nonetheless, money always had a way of turning up just when we needed it most. I don’t know how. When I was little, Mom used to claim she’d won on lucky scratchers she picked up at the convenient store. I was always so impressed by her good luck. As I got older that story didn’t fly like it used to. When money would magically turn up, we just didn’t talk about it anymore. I didn’t want to know.

  Last year after I graduated from high school, I got my first job. I worked as a cashier at a grocery store. I saved every cent and when I had enough, I bought a smart phone. Internet. I was connected to the world. One of the first places I connected with was Florida, looking up my cousin Tammy. We went from tweets to texts to a phone call, where she told me I should move to Florida. She even offered for me to move in with her, claiming she needed a roommate. The glamour of the sunshine state was hard to refuse. I used my last paycheck to buy a bus ticket and packed everything I own into one little suitcase. Here I am.

  I don’t have much to show for my eighteen years on this planet. But I know in my heart, that’s all about to change.

  “Shane! Shane!” Tammy hollers across the bus station, running towards me. I’m not sure how she recognized me. I barely recognize her. Dark roots go halfway down her coarse curls, then turn to some weird shade of orange. Her makeup is caked on thick. She’s dressed like she’s ready to hit a club, a strip club. She’s shorter than I am but still manages to lift me off my feet for a few seconds in an enormous hug. “I can’t believe you’re really here! You look so grown up. How was the trip?”

  It’s been ten years since we last saw each other. She looks really different, really grown up to me, too. “Not that bad. It was just long,” I say, noticing the guy standing next to her. Short, stocky, I’m guessing somewhere in his early twenties like Tammy.

  “Shane, this is my boyfriend, Tony.” Tammy looks down at my suitcase. “Is that all you have?”

  “Yeah,” I say, tightening my grip around the ugly piece of red luggage. “But it’s very heavy.”

  “Well, then let me get that.” Tony grabs the bag and hoists it over his shoulder. He walks ahead of us to the car and Tammy links her arm with mine.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with me moving in like this?” I ask quietly, as we follow Tony to the car.

  “Yes, I am ecstatic to have you moving in with me. My place is small but I’m at Tony’s house a lot lately so you’ll be getting the place to yourself mostly.” She beams at the backside of her boyfriend. “You’re gonna love Florida. It’s so much better than busted up Ohio,” she says with a shiver.

  I hop into the back seat and stare curiously out the window as we drive through the back streets towards my new home. As we draw closer, I start to wonder how Ohio is any more busted up than here. The houses we pass are on the small side, lots of weird junk littering the front lawns. Worn rooftops, broken windows covered with plastic. Nothing in the area looks very well kept up. We pull in front of a small house and Tony parks the car.

  “This is where you live?” I ask, looking at the small house in front of me, Budweiser cans scattered across the front lawn. A few guys holding onto full beers are standing around smoking cigarettes and they look over at us. I thought she lived in an apartment.

  “No, this is Tony’s place. We’re gonna hang out here for a little bit first.” Tammy throws this at me likes she expects me to be excited that our first stop is a party at her boyfriend’s rundown house. I just spent the last thirty-seven hours on a bus. I smell like . . . bus. Showing up at a party where I don’t know anyone is the last place I want to be right now.

  “Where’s the kid?” Tony asks the circle of guys and one of them nods towards the house.

  Tony holds the door open and Tammy giggles at her boyfriend as he strides into the house. I walk in quickly, scanning to see if I can spot a bathroom; I’ve had to pee for the last two hours.

  The inside of the house is even more appalling than the outside. The smell alone could knock you out. It’s like a mixture of smoke and piss. My gag reflux automatically goes off and I try to suppress a small heave.

  In the back room, the lights are off and in the glow of the television I see a guy parked on the couch, lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He doesn’t even bother looking up at us when we enter the room. Tony flicks on the light and the guy covers his eyes away from the brightness. “What the fuck?” the guy barks.

  “Kid, this is Shane.” Tony points back to me with his thumb. “You be nice to her and keep her company for a little while.”

  What? I look over to my cousin, who gives me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, “Just gives us like an hour and I’ll make it up to you when we get back to my place. I promise.” She wraps her arms around Tony’s waist and the two of them take off, leaving me alone in the room with a guy I don’t even know, who thinks it’s appropriate to smoke indoors.

  The guy smashes his cigarette into his shoe to extinguish it, then tosses it into a can on an end table. He eyes me up and down. “I thought you were gonna be a dude,” he says to me.

  “Huh?”

  “They told me I had to babysit some little cousin named Shane. I figured you were a g
uy.”

  “They said you had to babysit me?” A flood of regret at my grown-up decision to relocate waves through me, I’m sure my face shows just how stupid I feel. “Listen, you don’t have to babysit me. But can you just point me in the direction of a bathroom before you leave?”

  “Sure.” He gets up from the couch, stretching to his full height of at least six feet. His brown hair curls up on the edges and he has a spot that almost looks like a heart underneath his left eye. As he gets closer I realize it’s actually a little birthmark. He sees me looking at it and touches it. “You like my heart, Shane?” he asks with a cocky grin.

  I turn my head away, annoyed at myself for getting caught staring. “My name is actually Shayna. For some reason, my cousin likes to call me Shane.”

  He bangs his hand on a door. “Here ya go. You gotta jiggle the handle to get the toilet to flush.”

  “Wonderful. Thank you,” I say flatly.

  He lets out a hearty laugh that turns into a dry hack and walks away, leaving me to my business.

  I click the lock on the door. Thank God, it has a lock. I don’t think I’d be able to go if it didn’t. I don’t sit on the toilet seat, which looks awful, choosing to hover instead. The roll of toilet paper is sitting on the disgusting floor and if I realized that before I went I might have tried holding it for another two hours. Too late now. Gee, no surprise that the sink only spits out cold water and there’s no towel to dry my hands. I wipe my wet hands down the front of my jeans, finishing up the worst bathroom experience of my life. And I just spent all day on a bus.

  Opening the door from the bathroom, I step back into the hallway where my babysitter is leaned up against the wall, waiting for me. “I told you I’m fine. You don’t need to stay and hang out with me. I can just sit in the back and watch TV or something,” I say shrugging my shoulders like it’s no big deal.