Lexi caught me staring blankly at the TV during a commercial and said, "You okay, Laney?"
"I'm good," I said. "Just a little grippy."
"How bad?"
"Not too bad," I said.
I glanced at them with a reassuring smile. "And I've been good all morning, so I'm thankful for that."
"I should probably head out," Zack said, noticing how preoccupied I was with my symptoms. I didn't argue with him. I knew it would do me some good to stretch out in bed for a little while. "Do you think you could walk me out?" he asked.
The idea of a little fresh air actually sounded nice. "Sure," I said.
He told Lexi goodbye and she thanked him again for breakfast. When we got to the truck, he surprised me by grabbing my arm and using it to pull me into a hug. He wrapped his arms around me tightly. My first tendency was to resist, but when I realized he wasn't planning on letting go, I relaxed into his arms. I felt him sigh when I relaxed. His hard chest rose and fell under my cheek. He put a hand on my head to hold me securely to him, and I didn't resist. We stood there for a few long seconds.
"I'm sorry, Laney, but I'm not taking no for an answer. You're just gonna have to agree to let me help you."
I let out the breath I'd been holding as I pulled away from the hug. "My middle name's Rockwell."
"What?" he asked, looking utterly confused by the random statement.
"I didn't want to have to tell you. I thought the stabbing would be enough, but you made me do it. My mom gave me the middle name Rockwell. She did it because she's crazy. I have a drunk, crazy mom who I haven't spoken to since I left Washington."
I stared up at him as if that should do the trick, and he stared back at me with a calm, but unreadable expression. "You're not getting rid of me, Delaney Rockwell from Riverside Heights."
"You know Riverside Heights?" I asked laughing.
"My babysitter used to watch it when I was growing up," he said. "Delaney Rockwell was the hottest thing going."
I laughed. "Her and Lexi Cameron."
"Don't tell me your sister's middle name is Cameron."
I stared up at him like that was obvious. "Of course it is," I said.
He hugged me again, but this time let me go quickly. "You're not going to say anything to make me leave you alone, so you might as well stop trying."
He left me standing there while he crossed to the truck to get the money. He came to stand beside me again and held out the envelope. I took it ever so reluctantly and he used a finger to tilt up my chin. I stared up at him and took a deep breath before I said,
"Thank you."
"Thank you," he said. "It makes me feel good to think I'm helping you. You're doing me a favor."
"Somehow that seems a little backwards."
"Well it's not," he said. "It's exactly forwards."
I shook my head. "You're an amazing person, Zack Martin."
"James."
"What?"
"Zackary James Martin. You told me your middle name, and I’m telling you mine."
I smiled. "You have totally sane parents."
He unexpectedly reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. "Everything that's happened to you before now made you into the girl you are at this very moment."
I glanced down shyly and he used a finger to tilt my head up again.
"I like that girl," he said.
I gave him a little smile that said I was thankful for the kind words even though I was sure he was just being nice. "I like you too, Zack," I said. If he only knew how much I liked him and in what way, he'd go running for the hills.
I couldn't quite understand what happened next. It took me by complete surprise and left me standing in the middle of the driveway speechless as he pulled away. But after I said, "I like you too, Zack," he bent and put a quick soft kiss right on my mouth.
My knees went weak and my whole body flooded with nervous jitters. Just as soon as he made contact, he broke it and turned to head for his truck. It happened so quickly that I honestly didn't know if it happened at all or if I just wished it had happened so badly that I dreamed it.
The only real concrete evidence I had were the butterflies that remained in my stomach as I stood there. An uncontrollable smile spread across my face, so instead of standing there where he could see me looking like a giddy goofball, I waved at him and turned to make my way back to the apartment.
I didn't tell Lexi what happened. I wasn't a hundred percent sure that I hadn't been hallucinating. And if not, I was almost positive it hadn't meant anything, so I decided not to mention it.
Chapter 14
I took a nap after Zack left that day. It was difficult to go to sleep since I kept replaying the moment when he bent and touched his lips to mine. But my body needed the rest, and I eventually drifted off.
There was a text waiting on my phone when I woke up. It was from Zack's number. I hadn't programed his contact information yet, but I recognized the numbers and my gut clinched with anticipation when I saw them.
Zack: "Hey, I'm going to my parents' house for lunch tomorrow after church. My mom's making chicken potpie. It's pretty famous. You should come eat with us. You can bring your sister."
I always felt sick and out of it right when I woke up. I had that feeling of being electrocuted as I was waking up from my nap, and it took me a few minutes to come to my senses and realize what day and time it was. I reread the text once I shook off the worst of the grip. I wanted to take him up on the invitation, I really did. But I just didn't see myself committing to a lunch date with his lovely family—not with the unpredictable nature of my symptoms. I took my time composing a text back to him.
Me: "Thank you for the invite. It sounds delicious, but I'm not quite up for it yet. Tell your parents hello for me."
I set the phone on my stomach while I waited for his response. I could hear the television playing in the other room, and I assumed Lexi was out there. I knew she didn't have to work tonight, but I wasn't sure what her plans were or if she even had any.
I heard back from Zack within two or three minutes.
Zack: "I understand. I'll bring you a plate. How's 2 sound?"
I held the phone at arms length and then back only inches in front of my face, refocusing on the screen so I could read it again. Was he really asking if he could come over again tomorrow? I couldn't make sense of it. He was seeing the worst of me. How could he want to come back? Was he just that charitable? Did he kiss everyone he helped out? Did he really even kiss me?
I thought back to that moment and again experienced knots in my stomach that had nothing to do with my sickness. I tried to tell myself the kiss was so brief that it was more like a friendly farewell, but no one in Washington had ever kissed me on the lips when they said goodbye. I considered whether or not it might be a San Francisco thing. I was still distracted with these thoughts when I text him back.
Me: "I think Lexi has a wedding shower for a girl at work tomorrow. I'll be here, but please don't feel the need to deliver lunch."
Zack: "I'll see you around 2."
Lexi wasn't in the living room when I went out there. The television was on, but she wasn't in the apartment. She'd left a note on the bar.
Laney, I went shopping with Maddie for Trina's gift. We're going together on something and we're putting your name on it too. I'm off tonight and was thinking I'd hang out at Maddie's unless you need me. I might spend the night there, but just call her phone if you need anything. She lives right down the street and I'll come home in no time. Love you and see you tomorrow.
My first instinct was to hate the fact that she was out there without me to protect her, and then I remembered she'd been making it alone for over two months now. For the first six weeks of it, I was incapable of worrying about her, so I assumed it was a sign that I was feeling better if her absence bothered me so much all of a sudden.
I didn't sleep well at all that night. Nights were the hardest anyway, but compared to the last few, this one was esp
ecially difficult. During the worst of it, I had made up my mind that I would have to cancel plans with Zack, but once the sun came up and I shook off the pain and sickness of the night, I started to reconsider.
Lexi called to check on me and let me know she'd be home later that evening after the shower. I told her I was fine and to tell everyone at the shower that I was sorry I couldn't be there.
For some reason, I had myself talked into thinking that Zack wouldn’t show up. I thought he'd get busy with his family and end up calling to let me know he couldn’t come, so it actually surprised me when he did.
It was ten till 2 when I heard him coming up the stairs. I was feeling pretty good despite the bad night's sleep, and I met him at the door wearing a smile.
He took my breath away. I usually saw him in a t-shirt, which was already stunning, but today he had on what I assumed were his church clothes. He was still wearing jeans, but his t-shirt had been replaced with a plaid button-up shirt. It was sort of half tucked in with the sleeves rolled. He stood there looking dressed up but casual holding a foil-covered dish.
His smile broadened when he noticed mine. "You look like you're feeling good," he said, reaching out to give me a hug.
I reached in for an off-balance hug as I took the dish from him. "I am. I've been having a pretty good morning." I left out the part about my terrible night's sleep since I was sure he was tired of hearing about me being sick.
"Have you ever heard of floxing?" he asked following me inside.
"Like your teeth?"
He laughed. "Not flossing. Floxing," he said, careful to pronounce the X.
"No," I said, "What is it?"
"I think it's what's happening to you." I set the dish down on the bar and stared at him, waiting to hear more.
"It mostly happens with a different antibiotic called Cipro, and another one called Flagyl or something like that. Anyway, it's basically poisoning. The antibiotic poisons your body."
I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. "Are you serious? I can't tell you how many times I've said, either to myself or out loud that I feel like I'm being poisoned."
"Yeah," he said. "I think you are. The people who post their ordeals online have the same exact symptoms as you. The insomnia and feeling like they're being electrocuted."
"Nausea?" I asked.
"Yep."
"Chest pain?"
"Yep."
"Numbness?"
"Yep, and some of them mentioned specifically in their right arm like you said."
I looked at the ceiling and let out a sigh, feeling so relieved that I wasn't the only one.
"Some of them have it way worse," he said. "I mean, I know you're feeling terrible and everything, but some of the cases I read are of people who, on top of all the stuff you're having, had loss of muscle or tendon function. I was telling my parents about it at lunch just now, and my dad said this girl at his friend's church ended up in a wheel chair after taking antibiotics."
"What?" I asked, feeling shocked.
"What happened?"
Zack shrugged. "Dad didn't know the whole story. I was telling him about you, and he said that there was this college-age girl at his friend's church who was a healthy, life of the party type girl… she took antibiotics, and the next thing you know, she's in a wheel chair now."
"You're kidding!"
"No. People have crazy stories. You're definitely not alone, and you're definitely not one of the worst cases."
I thought back to the last two months of utter torture—and to think that some people had all that plus lost the use of their legs. I took a deep breath.
"I'm not gonna be able to look into it, because it's just gonna scare me," I said. "But tell me this… do they get better? I mean, not the ones with muscle issues, but the ones like me, do they ever get all the way better?"
"Yes." He was smiling, which put me at ease.
"Are you sure? Because right now it feels like I've done some sort of permanent damage to my body and my brain. I can't believe it could take this long to clear out."
"It's not permanent," he said. "It's gonna get better."
"Did those people say their brain wasn't working right—like they couldn't think straight?"
He smiled. "Yes. It's everything you have. I'm telling you, reading those stories was just like talking to you… it was all the same stuff, except most of them were worse. I think those other drugs I mentioned are the ones that have the tendon issues. I think you were better off that it happened with Penicillin and not one of those."
I took a second to think about the fact that it could have actually been worse. "So you think I'm gonna be normal again?" I asked. "You know, like back to my old self where I want to do art again and stuff?"
"Of course you will," he said smiling. He was standing across the bar, leaning on one arm. "In fact, I think you should start sooner than later."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know, I was thinking you could draw me something."
"All I draw is windows," I said.
"So draw me a window. And in the near future, as you get to feeling better and better, you can make it for me."
"I honestly don’t know if my brain's working good enough to try to be creative again."
He shrugged. "What do you have to lose? So, you start drawing, and you don't like it so you throw it away. Then you just wait a few more days till your brain's working how you want."
It was the first time in weeks that I had hope that I could return to some semblance of normal. I smiled as I imagined drawing a window and maybe one day even making it out of glass.
"You'll have to come check out my place so you can decide where it should go," he said, drawing me out of my thoughts.
"I'd like that." I lifted the foil from the dish. "Oh my goodness, this is famous," I said.
There was enough in there for about four servings. It took me a minute to make a plate, but once I was done I brought it to the living room, and we sat on the couch together while I ate.
"Are you gonna tell me about the knife?" he said out of nowhere when I was about five bites into my lunch. A wave of anxiousness hit me when he mentioned it. I hadn't really cared what he thought about me when I told him about it the other day, but now that he had kissed me things were different somehow. But it was too late. He already knew.
"It was a Summit Lake by Benchmade," I said. "My boss at Callahan's gave it to me right before we left." I smiled at him as if that was a sufficient answer to his question right before I took another bite.
He squinted at me, which made me giggle. "Very funny," he said with a sly smile. "You know what I meant. Why don't you have that Benchmade anymore?"
"Because I left it in someone's back."
"And what compelled you to do that?" he asked.
My expression turned serious as I remembered the scene. "Because he was raping my little sister," I said, my voice a horse whisper.
He sank his face into his hands and started to rub his face as if he could wipe away what he'd just heard. "I knew it had to be something like that," he said. He gathered his thoughts before saying, "Obviously I hate that for Lexi, but I'm glad to hear it wasn't you."
I looked at him. "I wish it were me," I said.
He sighed. "Of course you do." He thought about it for a few silent seconds. "I thought you said Lexi didn't know you stabbed anybody."
"She doesn't. She didn't see me."
More silence passed.
I continued picking at my food, but he just sat there thinking.
"Where did it happen?" he asked. I could see the muscles in his jaw tense, and his fists were clinched. It was apparent that the thought of it made him mad.
"We were on I-5 before we hit the 505. It was a truck stop a couple hours north of here."
Again, he was quiet for a long minute, and I had no idea what he'd say when he spoke again. "You did the right thing," he said. "You didn't have any other choice."
"Yes I did," I said. It was
something I'd thought about quite a bit. "I had mace in my bag, or I could have just tried to fight him with my bare hands. I didn't have to use the knife."
"You made the right choice, Laney. I would have done the same thing for my sister."
I put my almost-empty plate on the coffee table. "I didn't even know you had a sister."
"I have two of them."
"Amanda's twenty-eight with a husband and family of her own. I think you met her that day at the church. And there's Ella who's younger than me. She's twenty-two."
"That's my age."
He smiled. "You'd like her. She's a lot like you."
I returned his smile, but still felt heavy-hearted. "What if that guy died? What if I have blood on my hands?"
"I'm sure he didn't die. It was just a little pocket knife."
"It wasn't that little."
"Where'd you put it?" he asked.
I reached back and put my hand on my own side to demonstrate.
"I'm sure he didn't die," he said. "I just hope you hurt him bad enough to make him reconsider ever doing something like that again."
We sat on the couch and talked for a long time. I told him the whole story about the rape, not leaving out a single detail. I'd been holding it in for so long that once I shared it, I felt like a heavy load had been lifted off my chest. We talked about Washington. I told him what it was like growing up with my mother and how Mrs. Williams and the people at Callahan's were like the family I never had.
He told me about his family and a few of the events in his life that had shaped him into the person he was. It made me feel better that even someone with a seemingly perfect life had some not-so-perfect memories in his past too.
We ended up taking a walk a little later. We walked slowly, and stayed out for over an hour, talking and laughing the whole time. He was still at the apartment when Lexi got home that evening just before seven.
"I should be going," he said, looking at his watch. "I have to get packed."
"Where are you going?" I asked since he hadn't mentioned a trip.
Something of a Storm (All in Good Time Book 1) Page 10