by Amy Brown
But I don’t quit. I fumble onward like a brave soldier. When Trish says I can take a half-hour break, I can’t get out of the trailer fast enough. As I walk toward the gate, Rudy and Palmer are walking in. I think they just finished their break because they’re laughing and they look relaxed. When Palmer sees me his face hardens. I want to explain what happened with the tags but he has Rudy with him and I feel too self-conscious.
Rudy gives me a halfhearted smile, but Palmer doesn’t even fake it. He shoulder bumps me as he goes by, and I scowl and rub my arm. I feel guilty, but also still let down by how he behaved last night. I can’t shake the feeling that he knew Sabrina was going to trip me. But I’m confused because of how gentle he was with me in the closet. He is a mystifying guy.
There is an old redwood bench and table with some ashtrays where employees sometimes take their break. Nobody’s there, so I go over and sit down at the table. There’s a trashcan with some yellow jackets buzzing around, so I sit as far away from the insects as possible. I’m thirsty, and should’ve thought to grab a soda from the soda machine but it’s too late now. I don’t want to walk all the way back in there just for a drink, and maybe run into Palmer again. It’s too awkward.
I was flabbergasted to see Palmer walk into the trailer this morning. I had no idea he worked at my aunt and uncle’s lot. I guess it makes sense, since most of the kids do help out at the Christmas tree lot every year according to Aunt Julie. But Palmer definitely doesn’t need the money from what I’ve heard. His dad is supposedly loaded. Why does he work here?
I don’t like the idea of having to run into him every weekend at the lot. But I’m not gonna quit because he works here. My stomach turns when I remember Mr. Glenn lecturing us about getting together to tutor me. I don’t have the nerve right now to ask Palmer to help me. Not even sure I want his help. Mostly I don’t want to spend alone time with him because of what we did last night in the closet, but I also don’t trust myself around him. He’s too hard to ignore. He’s a jerk most of the time, but I can’t forget the feel of his mouth on mine, or his hands on my body. I don’t remember ever being attracted to someone I didn’t like before.
Through the fence I can see Rudy and Palmer walking around assisting customers. I find myself watching Palmer as he laughs with customers, and helps them pick out their trees. At school, he’s very withdrawn. He rarely smiles and he often looks angry. Maybe bored would be more accurate. But here at the Christmas tree lot, he actually has a personality. Well, he has one with the customers, definitely not with me.
My gaze goes over his body. He has a really nice body. Wide shoulders and long legs, the way his jeans fit is a turn on. His hair is glossy, his laugh warm, maybe even charming. I feel a strange nudge of disappointment that he isn’t like that with me. What was it about me that made him dislike me instantly? He has it in his head that I’m snooty. Hasn’t he ever met anyone who’s shy before? I rest my chin on my hand and continue to allow my gaze to follow him. The family he’s helping has a girl with them around our age. She’s pretty, blonde, slender, and flirting with Palmer. I wouldn’t have had the nerve to flirt with a boy in front of my mom and dad, but she doesn’t seem to have any problem with it.
My muscles tense when Palmer laughs at something the girl says. Jealousy curls in my gut, even as I know that makes absolutely no sense. But the way he touched me last night, it was surprisingly tender. I don’t have much experience sexually, but I can’t imagine anything being better with anyone else.
I feel a sharp sting on my arm, and when I looked down there’s a yellow jacket on me. I yelp and swipe it off, gritting my teeth against the burning sensation. I’ve never been stung by a bee before, and I’m surprised by how much it hurts.
“Little bastard,” I hiss. I can’t believe I got stung on my break. My luck lately is shit. I don’t want to go inside the trailer again so soon, but my arm is really starting to hurt. The skin is swollen and red around the bite mark, but I decide to stick it out until my break is over. Once I get back in the trailer, I’ll ask Trish for a first-aid kit.
A station wagon pulls up nearby, and the family piles out of the vehicle. The mother and father laugh as they help the kids out of the backseat. I feel a pang at the sight of them, and it makes me miss my parents desperately. I always loved going to get our tree every year. We had a tradition of stopping for hot chocolate on the way home. This Christmas is going to be so difficult without them. I wish I’d appreciated them more when I had the chance. I pray they knew how much I loved them because sometimes I worry I didn’t show it enough.
I watch the family go into the tree lot and I rubbed my sore arm. As I do that I realize my wrist is quite swollen. In fact, my entire arm is red and throbbing. I frown and get up slowly. My pulse feels weak but rapid, and I don’t think it’s my imagination that my throat is beginning to feel constricted. Panic shoots through me and I start toward the entrance to the tree lot. I must be having an allergic reaction. Since I’d never been stung before I had no idea I was allergic to bees. I’ve heard horror stories of people dying, and I try to stay calm as I enter through the gates.
I feel lightheaded and I quicken my pace. My arm is swelling so quickly I feel like I’m in a dream. As I near the trailer, I see Palmer dragging that families Christmas tree toward me. I’m beginning to have trouble breathing and dread is setting in. How long does someone have until it’s too late to save them from anaphylactic shock? Is it already too late? Am I going to die?
Palmer looks up and meets my gaze. At first his expression is cold and hard like it’s been all day, but as I open my mouth and try to say something his expression changes. My tongue is sluggish and I can’t say the words I want to say. I stumble a bit, and he drops the tree and trots over to me.
“Adalee? What’s wrong?”
I open my mouth trying to speak but it’s as if my tongue is made of cement. I sway and almost fall, but he grabs my good arm and steadies me.
I whimper and hold out my arm, showing him the sting mark. When his gaze drops to the sting, his gaze flickers. “Did you get bit?”
I swallow trying to think clearly. “Bee,” I whisper hoarsely.
Rudy comes walking up behind him and he takes one look at my puffy arm and his eyes bug. “Holy shit.”
“I think she must be allergic,” Palmer snaps. “Ask Trish if she has an EpiPen. Hurry!”
Rudy sprints to the trailer, and takes the steps two at a time. He goes inside quickly and a few seconds later Trish runs down the stairs with him. She’s shaking her head as she approaches.
“I don’t have an EpiPen. We need to get her to the emergency room.” Her voice is brusque.
“Shit,” hisses Palmer. Without another word he scoops me up into his arms, and strides toward his car.
I feel like I’m about to pass out, and I put my arms around his neck, resting my head on his strong shoulder. His arms tighten and he curses under his breath. Rudy meets us at the car, and opens the door for us. Palmer sets me in the passenger seat, and runs around to the driver side.
“Call the hospital and tell them we’re on the way. Tell them I’m bringing someone in with anaphylactic shock,” he yells, right before he slides behind the wheel. He slams his door shut, starts the engine, and tears out of the parking lot in a cloud of dust.
He drives like a maniac, which any other time might have scared me. But I’m more terrified that I’m struggling to breathe and I can’t stop shaking. I can’t believe this is happening. I must be the unluckiest girl in the world. Not only am I about to suffocate from a bee sting, but my arch enemy is the one who has to try to save me. This is a fucked up world.
“You’re okay, Adalee.” He sounds calm, which I find impressive, but I know he’s not actually calm. I can tell because he’s gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white.
My vision is blurry and dark around the edges. I want to cry but I don’t have the energy. I don’t know what I did in life to deserve so many horrible things,
but I must’ve done something. It’s as if the universe has it out for me. I’m not even eighteen and I’m probably going to die.
Palmer puts his hand on my leg and he squeezes. As if he’s read my mind, he says, “I’m not gonna let you die Adalee. So just get that stupid thought out of your head.”
A tear slips down my cheek because I’m in so much pain. My arm is as big as my leg almost, and I’m petrified. I close my eyes because I’m so tired. My heart is racing so fast I feel nauseous. Please God, don’t let me puke in Palmer’s fancy BMW.
That’s the last thought I have before everything goes dark.
****
I open my eyes, and for a second have no idea where I am. Then I see Aunt Julie and Uncle Joe standing beside my bed. But I’m not in my bedroom, I’m in a sterile seeming room where the lights are way too bright. I blink and cover my eyes, groaning.
“You’re okay, Adalee. You had an allergic reaction to a bee sting.” Aunt Julie pats my hand. Her gaze is warm and concerned.
“Gave us quite a scare.” Uncle Joe frowns.
“Sorry,” I whisper in a raspy voice. I glance down at my arm, relieved to see it’s a normal size again. There’s a red welt where the bee stung me, but my heart rate seems normal now. I search the room but Palmer is nowhere to be seen.
“You’re going to be just fine. The doctors gave you epinephrine and antihistamines. They said it was a good thing you got here so quickly. Your reaction was quite severe.” She strokes my hair, biting her lip. I can see she’s holding back her emotions, and I feel bad that I’ve upset her.
“I don’t think you should go back to the Christmas tree lot.” Uncle Joe’s voice is gruff. “Who knows how many bees are buzzing around the place?”
I wrinkle my forehead, but I don’t have the energy to argue. I’ll take this up with him once I’m recovered.
“Oh Joe, don’t overreact,” says Aunt Julie. “What are you going to do wrap her and bubble wrap and never let her out of the house?”
“If I have to,” he grumbles.
I smile weakly. “I’m fine,” I whisper. Well, I will be. Right now I feel a bit like a train ran me over.
“Palmer almost got a ticket getting you here. He was driving like a bat out of hell.” Uncle Joe laughs. “But the cop took one look at your arm and he escorted Palmer the rest of the way.”
The mention of Palmer makes my heart squeeze. He’d been so kind to me when he was trying to reassure me. How could someone look like they want to murder you one minute, and be comforting you the next? We definitely had a bizarre relationship.
I want to ask where Palmer is because I want to thank him for saving me. But, I don’t. I feel self-conscious mentioning his name. I feel like my aunt and uncle will be able to read my emotions on my face. I’d die of humiliation if they figured out what me and Palmer did in the closet at the party. Not that they should be able to figure that out from my face, but a girl can’t be too careful.
“The doctor said as soon as you wake up we can take you home.” Aunt Julie glances at her watch. “You’ve been here seven hours.”
I widen my eyes. Seven hours?
“Palmer was here for a few hours,” mused Uncle Joe. “But his dad called and he had to go.”
I kind of assumed Palmer would’ve dumped me off like a sack of potatoes and sped away. I’m surprised to hear he hung out at all. I was already surprised he even cared that I’d been going into shock. Since I’ve met him he’s spent so much of his time glaring at me, the idea he’d be concerned about my health seems odd.
A rosy cheeked nurse comes in and spends the next few minutes checking my blood pressure, and my temperature. “We’re sending some antihistamines home with you. You need to take them every four hours. Sometimes symptoms can return once the medicine wears off, and we want to be sure that doesn’t happen.”
I’m unsettled to learn the symptoms could return because they’d been terrifying. Suffocating is one of my biggest fears. I’ve always been afraid of that since I was a child.
The nurse wants me to leave the hospital in a wheelchair but thank goodness Uncle Joe talks her out of it. Aunt Julie and Uncle Joe help me to the car and we go home. On the drive, my thoughts return constantly to Palmer. He seems like he hates me most of the time and yet when he’d seen my arm, he’d kicked into action right away. He hadn’t even hesitated.
I should apologize to him for the Christmas tree tag mix-up. I suspect he still thinks I purposely sabotaged him. How could he know the depths of my incompetence? I have no excuse not to reach out either, after all, I have his number because Mr. Glenn made us exchange our numbers.
Aunt Julie makes me go to bed, even though I’ve been unconscious all day. I don’t fight her because I am tired. My body is traumatized by what it went through earlier. I get into my pajamas, and I snuggle into my covers. I grab my phone and swipe through the menus to find Palmer’s contact info. Once I find it, I sit and stare at his number for a ridiculously long time. I’m nervous about reaching out. I’m afraid he’ll be back to being surly Palmer. That’s the Palmer I don’t like. But, I feel driven to tell him I hadn’t tried to get him fired. I probably wouldn’t have bothered to explain myself, but after he saved my life, it seems only polite.
Eventually, I work up the nerve to call him. My heart pounds and I’m breathless waiting for him to answer. When he doesn’t answer, I feel let down. I’m sure that’s just because I worked myself up to make the call, and now I know I’ll have to do it again. It certainly can’t be because I wanted to hear his voice. That would just be stupid.
I set my phone down, and I close my eyes. I’m so tired. I hope by tomorrow I feel some energy coming back. My stomach tingles with excitement at the idea of going to the Christmas tree lot tomorrow and seeing Palmer. I’m being stupid, and I know it. I think I have some bizarre hero complex toward him now. He did save my life after all. He’d probably only done that because instinct had kicked in. It’s pretty hard to just let someone die in front of you without trying to help.
When my phone buzzes, I jump. I check the caller ID and see it’s Palmer. My pulse spikes even higher and I suck in a breath. Clearing my throat, I answer. “Hello?”
“Jackson’s Ambulance Service calling.” He sounds amused.
I smile, surprised he’s joking around. “Is this a collection call? Did my aunt forget to pay my bill?”
“She paid. It’s just that we always check on our customers to see how they’re doing.”
I laugh. “Is that right?”
“Yep.”
I sigh, smoothing my hand over the silk comforter. “The patient is expected to live.”
“Glad to hear it,” he says softly.
I shiver at his warm tone. Why do I let him get to me like this? Just because he did something nice doesn’t mean he’s nice. I try to force myself to apologize for the Christmas tree tag situation, but I find it difficult. My pride is getting in the way for sure. Instead, I say the first thing that comes to me.
“I don’t want Mr. Glenn to get mad at me because I didn’t set up tutoring.” There’s a silence as I finish speaking.
When he responds, his voice is less playful. “You called to set up tutoring?”
“I don’t want to fail math.” I wince at how selfish I sound. The first thing I should’ve said to him was “Thank you for saving my life.” Why didn’t I say that? Now it’s too late because I’ve already started talking about tutoring.
“Sure, Adalee. I’ll tutor you.” He sounds emotionless.
“It’s just that I’m falling behind so quickly.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
Say something nice. Thank him for saving you. Stop being such an ungrateful little bitch.
I clench my fists, and blurt, “By the way, thank you for saving me.”
There’s another strained silence, and then he says, “You’re an odd girl, Adalee.”
I wince, gripping my phone. “I know.”
He laughs quietly. “Do y
ou think you’ll be up for tutoring tomorrow?”
“Probably. I can handle a couple of hours of torture.”
“I work at the Christmas tree lot until 5 p.m. I could tutor you after. Say around 6 p.m. if you’re up for it?”
I nod and then realize he can’t see me. “Okay. Where?”
“How about here at my house? I have tons of math books and calculators, and I don’t feel like lugging them over to your place.”
“Fair enough.” I’m unsure of how to end the call. An awkward silence stretches and I can hear him breathing.
He gives another quiet laugh. “Do you know where I live?”
“No.”
“612 Bouquet Canyon Rd. It’s the giant gray house on the left. When you get to the gates press the button on the intercom. I’ll buzz you in.”
I open my mouth to thank him, but I don’t get the chance because he hangs up. I frown and set my cell phone down. I guess his phone manners are no better than my every day manners. I almost couldn’t even manage to thank the poor guy for racing me to the ER. I’d like to say we’re a match made in heaven, but we’re more like vinegar and oil.
If I’m up to it tomorrow morning, I’ll work at the tree lot. Christmas is only three weeks away and I need to get cracking on saving some dough.
One things for sure, I’ll take my breaks inside the trailer from now on.
Chapter Ten
Palmer
I’m surprised to see Adalee show up to work at the Christmas tree lot the next morning. I’d assumed she take advantage of an excuse to sleep in. Other than watching her arrive, and handing her colored tags for the trees, we don’t interact at all at work.
When my shift is over, I head home. I need a shower desperately after hoisting trees on top of cars all day long. I have sap in my hair, dirt under my nails, and my muscles are sore. The last thing I really want to do is sit down and tutor someone, especially someone as horrible at math as Adalee. But I promised, so now I’m stuck.