Along Came December

by Jay Allisan

  “I hate her,” I said at last. “She did this to me and I hate her.”

  “Oh God, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Max whispered. “I wish you’d told me sooner. I could have helped—”

  “It was years ago, Max. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “You’re wrong,” Tish said quietly. “Your panic attacks are situationally predisposed. That means they’re more likely to happen under certain circumstances, circumstances that may remind you of the initial trigger or of your mother’s response. You carry a fear of rejection into your close relationships and, I expect, have a history of running away when you perceive an imminent abandonment. For the young man in love with you, I’d say it does matter, quite a bit.”

  I hugged my arms to my chest, uncomfortable. Max touched my hand. “Is this okay?”

  I didn’t understand. He said, “When you’re having a panic attack, is it okay if I touch you? Or hug you? Would it help?”

  I looked down at his hand. “It didn’t help before.”

  “But just now it did. Right?”

  “I guess so. Yeah. But that felt like a hug, and before… it felt like a cage.”

  Max winced. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

  “What if I talked to you, like Kristoph did?”

  “That helped. He made me think about my breathing.”

  “That’s the key, Shirley,” Tish said. “Your breathing can be controlled, and when you’re in control you can stop a panic attack before it starts. We’ll work on that. The other side of the coin is feeling safe. When you feel threatened your body slips into fight or flight mode, which causes the physical symptoms of a panic attack, such as rapid heart rate or nausea. If you can create a feeling of safety it’s much easier to end the attack. If you feel safe with Max he’ll be better able to help you.”

  Max bit his lip, afraid to assume.

  “I feel safe with you,” I told him, and it was the truth. I tried for a smile. “Now that you know all my secrets I’d better, right?”

  “I’ll tell you a secret,” Max said immediately. “What do you want to know?”

  I laughed a little. “That’s not how secrets work, Max. If I don’t know I can’t ask.”

  “Did I tell you about the time I tried out for the high school football team?”

  I traced the jagged scar on his forehead, hidden beneath his shaggy hair. “Yes.”

  “Or how I won the third-grade science fair by singing to my plants?”

  “The story does sound familiar.”

  “And I told you about my parents.”

  “Yes,” I said softly, squeezing his hand. They were on the second plane to hit the World Trade Center.

  He squeezed back, breathing long and slow. Then he said, “I never told you about my girlfriend.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that,” I said, but he shifted so he was sitting cross-legged, holding my hand atop his knee. His eyes were fixed on my fingertips.

  “Her name was Anya. We dated all through high school. I was a year ahead of her, and when I graduated I stayed in Tennessee until she graduated too. She’s the reason I came to Briar Rose. We’d both lived in the same small town all our lives, and she wanted to see a big city. See the ocean. BRU has a great nursing program, so once she was accepted we moved out here.”

  “That must have been difficult for you,” Tish said, startling me. Max just shrugged.

  “After my parents… she was the only family I had.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “We’d been out here for two years,” he said. “I had a couple of part-time jobs in addition to my classes, and of course Anya had a full course load with all her practicums. We didn’t see each other much for a few weeks, but we were just busy. It didn’t seem like a big deal. I guess I thought we could handle it. But then one day I came home and she—” His voice cracked. “And she had some guy in our bed…”

  “Oh my God,” I murmured. “Max, I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s what I told her too,” he said thickly. “That I was sorry. That I should have been there for her. But she just packed her bags and left. She didn’t even say goodbye.”

  I laid my hand against his cheek and he trapped it there, warm tears sliding between my fingers. He closed his eyes. “I was going to marry her.”

  His shoulders shook silently. I got to my knees and wrapped my arms around him. He pressed his face against my chest.

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. “She should never have treated you like that. I should never have treated you like that. I’m sorry I left, Max. It was a horrible thing to do. But I promise—I promise—I’ll never do it again.”

  “Okay,” he answered, his voice muffled. “Okay, Shirley. I’m really glad to hear you say that.”

  I smoothed his hair back and kissed his football scar. “I’m really glad to be saying it.”

  He lifted his face and I kissed him properly, until Tish cleared her throat. She smiled at us.

  “I expect you’ll both find Shirley’s treatment a little easier to manage now. You’re in this together. Be honest, be accountable, and be supportive.”

  Tish gathered up her papers and sidestepped us for the door. “I’ll see you at the hospital Monday morning,” she told me. “We’ll fit in a session every day before your classes. I’m pleased with your efforts so far, Shirley. Keep it up. And honey?” She gave me a knowing smile. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  13

  DIXON MADE good on his bribery. I spent the rest of the morning photocopying, stapling, filing and color-coding. At lunch I was sent on a sandwich run, and the next few hours were fetching coffee and carrying messages throughout the building. By mid-afternoon I’d been up and down the stairs so many times I could have found homicide with my eyes closed.

  There were a lot of hushed conversations about the case, wary glances I ignored and low whispers I tried desperately to overhear. I’d been so excited to be at Old Town that I hadn’t picked up on the precinct’s atmosphere, a thick pervasion of weariness. Of dread. Being here wasn’t a reward for anyone else. It was a duty, one that had never been more dangerous.

  No one called the Garrison by name. It was always they, or them, but there was no mistaking the unnamed, unseen adversary. All over the station cops stared endlessly at computers, pored through notebooks, slumped over file folders. I watched men throw all their papers to the floor and bellow in frustration to empty rooms, watched women write and pace, write and pace, then erase and start all over again. I ran from floor to floor, keeping the coffee machines going and wishing there was something I could do, some way I could help. Most of all I wished someone would catch the bastards.

  I stayed until the sun was setting, until Dixon finally told everyone to go home. He pulled me aside as his detectives wrapped up.

  “I hope you learned something today,” he said, not unkindly. “This is what it means to be a cop. To beat your head against a wall. To be relentless. They can’t teach you this in the academy, and there’s no one who can teach it to you here. It has to come from you. You have to show me you’ll do whatever it takes to get the job done, no matter how difficult it is for you. You need to scream? You need to throw something? Fine. But no matter what, you do your job.”

  “I understand,” I answered quietly. “Thank you. For the opportunity.”

  He patted my shoulder. “I’ve got my eye on you, Shirley. Don’t let me down.”

  September

  IT WAS raining outside, a cold, blanketing rain that pooled in the streets and bled drearily down Tish’s office windows. Somewhere across town Max would be out in this weather, at the crime scene, fighting a losing battle against more than just the elements.

  “You seem unsettled today, Shirley,” Tish said. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

  “You saw the headlines,” I said numbly. “They got two. Two officers.”

  “You mean the Garrison.”

  “Who else?�
��

  “And this concerns you.”

  “Of course it does, Tish! If they can take out two cops, two partners on shift without anyone noticing, how are we going to catch them? How can the police protect themselves? What if next time…”

  My hands shook. Tish leaned forward, her expression calm. “Focus, just like we’ve practiced. What do you do?”

  I sucked in a lungful of air and let it out again. “Breathe deep.”

  “Good. What are you feeling?”

  “I’m scared. I’m scared for Max, that he’s going to…”

  “Acknowledge the fear.”

  I closed my eyes and pictured my breath washing over me like the tide, smoothing panic’s sharp edges. “I’m scared the Garrison is going to take him. Take him and kill him.”

  “Good, Shirley,” Tish said. “You’re afraid. It’s okay to be afraid.”

  “It’s okay to be afraid,” I repeated. “It’s okay to be afraid because fear doesn’t mean I’m helpless. I can act.”

  “What can you do? What’s going to help the situation?”

  “I—I’m not sure…”

  “Is Max in immediate danger?”

  I took another deep breath. “No. He’s with lots of people and it’s too soon. Too soon for the Garrison to take someone again.”

  “What about you? Are you in immediate danger?”

  “No, but that doesn’t help. I’m still scared.”

  “What’s going to make you feel better, Shirley? What can you do to get through this?”

  “I can call Max and make sure he’s okay.”

  “Would you like to do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go ahead.”

  I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and hit Max’s speed dial. He picked up on the second ring, and the instant I heard his voice I breathed a little easier.

  “Hey, sweetheart. How’s therapy?”

  “It’s good,” I answered, watching Tish watch me. “I just wanted to check in. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Shirley, don’t worry about me. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Do you think you’ll have time for lunch today? I’ll bring you something hot.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice. “That sounds great. I’ll call you when I’m back at the precinct. I love you.”

  “Me too.”

  I put the phone away. Tish smiled. “Very well done, Shirley. How do you feel?”

  My breathing was level, my heart calm and my hands steady. “Better. I feel like I’m in control.”

  “In control of what?” she asked. “Do you have control over the Garrison?”

  “No.”

  “Over Max?”

  “Mostly.” Tish gave me a look and I smiled. “No, I don’t have control over Max. All I have control over is me, but as long as I remember that, it can be enough.” I smiled again, a warm feeling spreading through my chest. “I think I can do this.”

  “I agree.” Tish swiveled in her chair to look at her wall calendar. “You’ve come a long way, but we both know it’s one thing to manage an attack in a controlled environment and another thing entirely to manage one in the field. It’s time for a training exercise.”

  Just the idea was enough to make me uneasy. “A training exercise? What kind? Where? When?”

  “In two weeks, down in the park. I won’t give you details, but I will tell you that it will be very challenging. Your performance on the exercise will weigh heavily in my final assessment. Graduation is less than two months away.”

  “But that’s not the end, is it? If I fail, or even if I do really well, I’ve still got until graduation to prove—”

  “It’s not the last bridge to cross, but it is a big one. We’ll continue our regular schedule until graduation, and I hope you don’t view that as your stopping point.”

  “I’ll stop when you tell me I don’t need therapy.”

  Tish laughed. “Honey, there’s not a soul in this world who doesn’t need therapy. But I do expect we can reduce the frequency over the next few months.” Her eyes softened. “Though there are still a few things I’d like to talk about.”

  I knew where she was leading but didn’t take the bait. She shifted her weight, tucking one ankle behind the other. “I’d like to know what happened before your first panic attack, Shirley. What triggered it.”

  I folded my arms, realized the gesture came across as defensive, then unfolded them.

  Tish waited. So did I.

  “It’s all right,” she said, when it was clear I wasn’t going to answer. “We don’t have to talk about it today, or tomorrow, or even this month. We can talk when you’re ready. Just know that whatever triggered these attacks for you won’t just go away. It needs to be addressed.”

  I held my silence. Tish smiled. “Have it your way. Why don’t we finish early? I understand you have a test today.”

  “It’s a series of arrest simulations,” I said. “I’m ready.”

  “You’re doing quite well at the academy. Top of your class.”

  “I want that homicide placement.”

  “I’ll let you get back to it, then. Good luck on your test, and remember, two weeks until the training exercise. Take every opportunity to prepare yourself.”

  She phrased it like encouragement, but I heard the warning anyway.

  14

  “GIVE ME your cell phone,” Tish said, holding out her hand. “We’re leaving it behind. Take off any watches or jewelry, and empty your pockets. Nothing’s coming to the park except you.”

  I wasn’t wearing jewelry and I knew my pockets were empty, but I took my time checking them all anyway. I pulled my hair back from my face, smoothing it excessively before securing it in an elastic. Finally I placed my cell phone in Tish’s hand, anxiety flickering when it disappeared into Dixon’s desk drawer.

  “But what if I need to call someone? If I need to call Max?”

  “No cell phones,” Tish said. “Just you.”

  “But—”

  “You’ll be great, sweetheart,” Max assured me. “You can do this. I’ll be right here waiting for you when you’re done.”

  I looked from Max to Dixon to Tish, then stepped into Max’s embrace. “Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll see you soon.”

  He kissed my forehead. “You can do this. I know it.”

  “Remember your training,” said Dixon. “Both academy and therapy. Good luck.”

  Kristoph gave me an encouraging smile as I followed Tish out of the office. Behind me I heard Paddy mutter, “You’re gonna need it.”

  WE WALKED the twenty minutes from Old Town to the park. Tish chatted casually, but I was tense as hell and couldn’t sustain a conversation. I let her voice turn into background noise and told myself it was only a training exercise. Whatever happened, it was only a training exercise.

  Tish led us through the park’s main gate and down the paved path, heading north. My eyes flashed back and forth, searching for any clue as to what was going to happen. There were a lot of people in the park. Joggers, walkers, moms with strollers. We passed a hot dog stand, a falafel cart, and a mini doughnut stand. The smells made me want to throw up. I was grateful when they were behind us, though relief was quick to disappear when everything else was behind us, too.

  We’d left the main trail and were deep in the quiet woods, no one within sight or earshot. Already the seclusion was terrifying, but Tish kept going, weaving confidently between trees, moving from clearing to clearing until I wasn’t sure where we were or how I would get back. If I would get back. I had visions of getting whacked over the head and tied to a tree, or pushed into the river. No one would know. No one could help me. I wiped my palms on my jeans as we stepped into another clearing. Maybe there was no training exercise and this was all a big ruse to⁠—

  Max was right in front of me.

  I blinked dumbly, as if he were a mirage. He didn’t go anywhere. Neither did I. I didn’t know what to do.

  Then Tish
screamed.

  I whirled toward the noise. Two men in ski masks were dragging her backward, one of them covering her mouth. Before I could react someone grabbed me from behind, clamping a hand to my mouth and hauling me off my feet. I struggled desperately, trying and failing to pull the hand from my face. I was getting panicked, getting dizzy. I couldn’t take a full breath and my heartbeat filled my ears. Tish was on the ground now, and if I couldn’t get free I’d be next. Her attackers advanced. They were coming for me. No, they weren’t, they weren’t looking at me. They were looking past me, at⁠—

  Max.

  Max.

  My toes scrabbled against the dirt as I fought to get loose. I screamed for Max to run, the sound muffled, useless. Max had his gun in his hands but he was going the wrong way. He was going to meet them.

  “Police! Let her go and put your hands in the air!”

  They kept walking. He kept walking. I kept screaming.

  His gun was on the assailants but his eyes were on me, wide and bright. “It’ll be okay, Shirley. Just stay calm. You’re going to—”

  His words were swallowed by the crack of a gunshot.

  Max stumbled, shuddering as his chest bloomed red. The air split again. He collapsed to the ground and was still.

  Silence.

  Madness.

  I was falling. I was running. I wasn’t moving. There was fire in my throat, someone’s hand over my mouth, holding it in, holding me back, holding me here, when all I’d ever needed was to get to Max.

  I had to get to Max.

  I snapped my head back and smashed it into the attacker’s face. I did it again, and the grip on me loosened enough for me to get my feet on the ground. I dropped to one knee and threw my weight forward, rolling the attacker over my shoulder. I got dragged down too, but I broke free and ran for Max.

  Blood. Oh God, there was so much blood. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t find his pulse. That was me, that was my fault, my hands were shaking too much. I put my ear to his chest and prayed. His heart was beating. God, thank God, his heart was beating. He was still alive.