by Iris Morland
Seeing that Danny was actually typing instead of trying to get online, Kat wandered to the edge of the class, where Emma Danvers sat. Her head was down, her focus on the monitor in front of her, but Kat soon realized the girl wasn’t typing. Instead, she seemed almost dazed.
Kat laid a hand on her shoulder. Emma barely responded to the touch. “Emma? Are you all right?”
Emma didn’t say anything. Kat watched as the girl’s breathing increased, and she squatted down to her level to get a better look at her. Emma’s breaths were fast and frantic, and soon the girl started moaning low in her throat.
“Emma, look at me,” Kat said in a low voice. “What’s wrong?”
By this point, most of the students had stopped typing and were staring at the pair. Emma, though, seemed like she was in her own little world. When she started hyperventilating, though, Kat’s heart froze. She caught Emma’s gaze. “Emma, I need to get you to calm down. Take a long, deep breath for me? That’s it. And let it out. Do that again. Count to ten as you breathe in, and count to ten as you breathe out.”
Emma’s breaths slowed enough that Kat was able to leave to go to the classroom next door, where she knew Silas was working during his break. When he saw her expression, he didn’t even ask what she needed. He got up and followed her back into the lab.
“I’m taking Emma to the nurse,” Kat said. “Watch my class for me?”
“Of course. Do you want me to call her dad?” Silas glanced at Emma, whose hand Kat had taken.
“Please, and let Mrs. Gentry know as well.” She tugged on Emma’s hand. “Let’s go to the nurse, okay?”
Emma didn’t say anything, but she followed Kat without protest.
“Keep counting and breathing,” Kat said as they walked down the deserted hallways. “Good girl. You’re okay. Keep breathing just like that.”
When they got to the nurse’s office, Kat swore under her breath when she saw that the nurse was at lunch. Perfect. What was she supposed to do now? She wasn’t exactly a trained medical professional.
She sat Emma down in one of the chairs, kneeling in front of her. She continued counting and making Emma take slow, deep breaths, but as the minutes passed, Kat could tell that Emma’s initial calm was disappearing already. Tears filled her eyes and trailed down her pale cheeks. Kat rubbed her hands, murmuring soothing things, desperate to try to keep the girl from panicking.
Emma started wheezing. Kat went searching for a paper bag, something she could use to help Emma, and she snatched a bag from inside one of the cabinets.
“Breathe into this,” she instructed as she handed the bag to Emma. “And I’ll count for you. Breathe in, one, two, three, four…”
Emma’s breath hiccupped with sobs, and it broke Kat’s heart. What had terrified Emma so much? She remembered her conversation with Grace at Trudy’s, and she wondered once again if Emma wasn’t suffering from some kind of anxiety disorder. This couldn’t be normal behavior for an eight-year-old, right?
The nurse still hadn’t returned, but fortunately, Emma’s breathing calmed down. Tears still fell from her eyes, though, and Kat rubbed her hands to soothe her.
“I think I’m dying,” Emma said. “I couldn’t breathe.”
“I know, but you’re okay. You’ll be okay. I promise.”
“I had a dream last night that my mom…” Emma bit her lip. “She was in a car accident. What if she dies? What if I saw what’s going to happen to her?”
Kat was at a loss, but she kept saying the same thing over and over again. “Everything’s going to be fine. Your mom is okay. You’ll be okay.”
“I want my dad.” Emma pulled her knees up until her face rested against them. “When is he coming?”
“We called him, sweetheart. He’ll be here any minute. I promise.”
Emma nodded and fell silent. Kat could only hope that meant she’d calmed down somewhat.
After what seemed like hours, Kat heard quick footsteps outside in the hallway, and then Gavin was in the doorway, his face pale and grim. “Jesus…Emma.” He saw Kat, and he nodded. “Emma, what happened?”
When Emma looked up at her dad, she promptly burst into tears again, sobs wracking her small frame. Kat rose so Gavin could hug his daughter close as she cried.
“I saw Mom die in my dream. I tried to stop thinking about it like you told me, but I couldn’t. Have you talked to her? Are you sure she’s okay? I want to call her right now.” Emma was almost babbling, and Gavin just stroked her hair.
“We can call your mom after we get you calmed down a little, okay? But she’s okay. It was just a dream. Remember when I told you that things in dreams aren’t going to come true?”
“But what if this time something happens? You don’t know something bad won’t happen.” Emma’s lip quivered. “You don’t know that for sure.”
Gavin seemed at a loss. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
Right then, the nurse finally arrived, and she seemed confused at seeing all these people in her office. “Goodness, what happened?” she asked.
“I’m taking Emma home. Where are her things?”
“I’ll go get them,” the nurse offered. “She’s in second grade, right? I’ll go and talk to Mrs. Gentry real quick.”
Kat was infinitely grateful the woman offered, as she wanted to talk to Gavin for a second. She was well aware she wasn’t a psychiatrist, but she wondered if Gavin had any idea what was wrong with Emma. During her mother’s illness, Kat had suffered from panic attacks from time to time, and she recognized the same symptoms that Emma was suffering from now. She also knew that oftentimes, people who hadn’t ever experienced panic attacks didn’t realize what they were in other people.
The nurse left, and Kat said, “Can I talk to you a second?”
Gavin rose. “We’ll just be over here,” he said to Emma as he followed Kat further into the nurse’s office.
“What is it?” His voice seemed so sad, so resigned, that Kat wanted to embrace him. She wanted to tell him things would get better, but like Emma had asked, how did she know? She didn’t know if things would get better, and she knew that this was a situation she couldn’t take care of.
“It’s just that, Emma saying she couldn’t stop thinking about her mom dying…” Kat struggled to find the words. “I used to be like that. When my mom got cancer, I’d have panic attacks, like I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how my mom would die and leave me all alone. Sometimes I couldn’t go to school, it was so bad.” The words left her in a rush, and at Gavin’s expression, she wasn’t sure he’d caught all of it. “Emma seems to be experiencing the same thing.”
“Which is?”
“I think she’s suffering from anxiety. I mean, that’s obvious. But I mean, I think she may have some kind of anxiety disorder. Maybe even OCD.” When Gavin said nothing, Kat swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. But she’d gone this far already. “Have you taken her to someone before? To get her checked out?”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. He scowled, and she almost stepped back at the expression on his face. “You mean take her to a shrink so they can medicate her until she’s a zombie?”
Kat blinked. “That’s not what I meant, no.”
“Look, I know you mean well. You’re a good person; I know that. But Emma’s not your kid. She’s mine. And although I appreciate your input, I’m not taking her to another therapist. The last time…” He looked away, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “I’ve had enough with psychologists and counselors and psychiatrists to last a lifetime.”
“I know it’s hard to find someone you can trust and who works for you, but you can’t give up that easily.”
“I can ‘give up’ as much as I please,” he hissed. “You know nothing about this. You don’t. Don’t try to act like you’re providing me with some revelation.”
Kat was so startled by his vehemence that she couldn’t speak. This wasn’t the Gavin she thought she knew: he’d been gruff, and uns
ociable, but never outright cruel. She struggled against either crying or slapping his face.
“If this is how you react to people trying to help you, no wonder you don’t want to work with any professionals.”
“I also don’t take well to anyone telling me my daughter may be mentally ill.” Gavin glanced at Emma, his face softening a fraction. “I’ve seen mental illness up close, Kat,” he said in a voice that broke her heart all over again. “I’ve seen it, and by God, I will not let it happen to my daughter.”
Kat wanted to tell him that it wasn’t that simple: he couldn’t protect his daughter from something like this. But she also wasn’t a parent, and Emma wasn’t her daughter. So she just nodded, her throat tight, and was thankful that the nurse returned right then with Emma’s backpack.
“I’ve let the front desk know that Emma’s leaving early, and Mrs. Gentry knows as well.” She handed the bag to Gavin. “Feel better soon, Emma.”
Emma stood up and Gavin followed her out. He didn’t say anything to the nurse or Kat as they left. Now he’d probably never speak to her again. She couldn’t regret what she’d done, though. If Gavin needed time to accept to what was happening with Emma, that was his problem, not hers. She just hoped his stubbornness didn’t make things worse in the end.
“That poor child,” the nurse murmured. “I’ve never met one like her. But it’s not a surprise, given who her mother is.”
Kat stilled. She shouldn’t pry, but her curiosity got the better of her. “Her mother?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t know, would you? Teagan, her mother, she was famous around this town when those two were younger. She was the pretty cheerleader, and he was the awkward bookworm. When they got together, everybody was surprised.” The nurse chuckled. “I guess opposites attract, right? Then they moved to the East Coast, and we barely heard anything about them, until suddenly they’re splitting up and apparently Teagan is in treatment.”
The nurse began organizing things on the counter, as if she didn’t even see Kat standing there anymore. “And now this whole thing with their daughter.” The nurse clucked her tongue. “Well, I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, as they say.”
Kat’s stomach twisted. “I guess not,” she replied before returning to her classroom. Silas was just getting the kids lined up to return to Mrs. Gentry’s room, and he told her he’d take them so she could have a moment alone.
“Same thing as last time?”
Kat looked up as Silas entered the computer lab. Glancing at the clock overhead, she had about five minutes before she would go get the next class for the afternoon. She sighed, her chin in her hand.
“Yeah, just like when I found her in the closet. That poor girl.” She suddenly felt utterly exhausted and rather wished she could take a nap under her desk for the next period.
“What are they doing for her? She can’t keep coming to school and having these episodes.” Silas frowned. “Did her dad say anything?”
She definitely didn’t want to get into that particular subject, so she just shrugged. “Who knows? I just hope they can get her feeling better.”
Silas was silent for a moment as he watched her. Then, in a quiet voice, he said, “You don’t have to take this on too, you know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that I know you often feel like you have to take care of people. But I don’t think this is something you can fix. Not this time.”
She stared at him. She felt exposed, like Silas had scooped out her innards and now she was left with a gaping hole. “I’m just trying to help.”
He came around the desk, looking like he was about to reach out and touch her hand before thinking better of it. “Can I say something? As a friend?”
“Haven’t you already said something?”
He laughed a little. “True. But I think we’ve gotten to know each other enough to be honest. I saw how you put your life on hold for your grandmother. You told me how you took care of your mother. I just wonder if sometimes you feel like you aren’t complete unless you’re caring for someone else.”
Kat brushed an imaginary piece of dust from the desk. “What else was I supposed to do? Leave my family to rot? That hardly seems fair.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.” This time, Silas did touch her hand. “Just that you’re so used to being a caretaker that if you’re not doing that, you’re adrift. And I just wonder if you’re in over your head with this situation.”
Her head hurt. Her heart hurt. She understood what Silas was saying, but at the same time, she wanted to tell him to keep his opinions to himself. Why did Silas feel the need to warn her away from Gavin, like she had no idea what she was getting into? Like he’d ruin her life given half a chance?
“I disagree with what you’re saying, but thanks. I’ll try not to do anything.” She knew she was being flippant, but she didn’t care. “I need to go get my class now.”
He didn’t argue, just stood aside so she could go to the door. She still felt his gaze on her back, like he wanted to say something else. The cynical part of her wondered if this was just Silas’s attempt to get her to date him instead of Gavin, and then she felt instantly guilty for the thought. God, she needed a drink. Maybe several.
When she finally got home that night, she opened a bottle of wine and tried to empty her mind of everything. But when she checked her email, she saw dozens of emails telling her how much of a bitch she was, how she could fucking choke, and suddenly the stress of the day pushed too hard and she started crying. She stood in her grandmother’s kitchen, wineglass in one hand and her phone in the other, and she sobbed like her heart was broken.
I’m so stupid, she kept thinking. I’m so very, very stupid.
The sobbing petered off, and afterward, she felt rather silly and dramatic. She wasn’t the one with a kid having episodes at school. She wasn’t the one with an ex-wife who was ill. But that didn’t help alleviate her heavy heart, which she carried with her as she tried to get some sleep that night.
Chapter Eight
The day after Emma’s incident—what did they call it this time? the computer lab incident?—Gavin told himself he had every right to be angry at Kat and it was none of her business what he did in regards to his daughter. She didn’t know Emma’s history. How could he explain that the three times he had taken Emma to therapy, his daughter would become so panicked afterward that it was like talking a person off of a mental ledge? Every time had been worse than the time before. After the third therapist, Gavin had vowed never to put Emma through that ever again.
He told himself that as he got Emma to go to sleep the night after this incident. He told himself the same thing a day later, even though guilt had started to niggle at him. The day after that, he told himself he’d maybe been a little harsh, but he’d still been well within his rights to tell her to back off. He couldn’t think about the look on her face, or how he’d probably screwed up everything with her already, and as he did work around the vineyard, he told himself Emma was all he should be thinking about anyway.
“So what did those grapes do to you?”
Gavin looked up from the vine he was harvesting to see Adam standing over him, hands on his hips. River’s Bend was beginning its yearly harvest, and unlike the previous three years, this year looked to be a good one. Unless Gavin destroyed all the grapes he picked.
“Sorry,” he muttered, plucking the next deep purple grape more gently. “Have a lot on my mind.”
The rest of the workers were some distance away, as Gavin had arrived a little later. He was fine with being alone, anyway. The last thing he wanted to do was chat.
Except Adam didn’t seem inclined to let him be alone. “How’s Emma doing?”
“As good as you’d imagine, I guess.”
Adam sighed. “Gavin, this is the second time this has happened. This isn’t normal behavior.”
No shit, Sherlock. Gavin ground his teeth in frustration. Since when did every non-parent want to g
ive him parenting advice?
“I’m not taking her to see a therapist,” he said as he moved down the vine. “You don’t know…” He trailed off, swallowing past the dry lump in his throat. “You didn’t see her afterward. I’m not doing that to her again.”
“But you can’t not do anything.”
“Who’s saying I’m doing nothing?” Gavin ripped off a grape that burst in his hand. He swore. “I’d appreciate it if you kept your nose out of my business.”
That shut Adam up. Gavin felt bad for a second, but he refused to apologize. Since when had Adam cared about him or Emma? He hadn’t exactly been around when Teagan had been falling apart. He’d been too wrapped up in this vineyard and his fiancée.
Now you’re just being petty, his mind told him. He knew it, but at the moment, he wasn’t inclined to shrug it off.
“I’m just trying to help. We’re all just trying to help,” Adam said quietly. “You can’t keep pushing everyone away.”
Gavin stood up, grabbing his basket. “I have work to do.” He stalked off to join the rest of the harvesters, ignoring Adam’s expression.
The day Teagan had tried to kill herself, Gavin hadn’t wanted to call his family. But Julia Danvers had called anyway, and after that, Gavin had waited for Adam’s call. For some reason, he had needed to hear from his older brother, who’d experienced his own tragedy when he’d lost his wife Carolyn in a car accident years previously. Adam had always had the answers when they’d been young. But after days of waiting, Adam had never called.
The anger and the resentment built in his chest now until he wanted to scream with it.
You can’t keep pushing people away.
How was he pushing people away when those people refused to be there when he needed them? That was the real question.
Gavin worked the rest of the day in a haze, trying to forget everyone and everything. He didn’t want to consider that he’d made his own mistakes, that maybe he hadn’t recognized when others were reaching out to help but he’d rejected them.
By the evening, though, Gavin felt exhaustion swamp his limbs. Emma was similarly tired and silent, and the quiet apartment was almost painful. And of course, as he looked at the books Kat had gone through just days prior, his heart stuttered. God, he’d made a real hash of this, hadn’t he? Kat didn’t know what had happened with Emma in regards to therapists; she’d just been trying to help in the way she thought best. The guilt almost choked him. After Emma went to her room, he called Kat, but there was no answer. He left a voicemail, asking her to call him back.