Page 68 of The One Timer

“How about an autograph…” The man’s words fade like a distant echo.

Then I feel her hands on me and I’m moving. Her whisper sooths me though I have no idea what she’s saying. Then cold air hits me and I find myself sitting on a hard cement stoop facing a loading dock and a lot filled with trucks.

She touches my face, her warm hand against my forehead. “You’re okay, Chase. Breathe deeply. In and out. That’s it.” I find myself listening and following her instructions like she’s my lifesaver, in charge of my survival. The tightness in my chest loosens as I grip her hand and take in the cold dirty air, swallowing hard, willing my churning gut to settle down.

“I’m sorry,” I croak out, then lick my lips, my throat dry.

She pulls a small bottle of water from a pocket and hands it to me. “What triggered you, Chase? Do you know?”

I empty the bottle down my throat and hope it doesn’t make me hurl. But once I swallow, I feel better. The fog in my head starts to clear and I look at her cool, calm face. “Triggered me?”

She sits next to me. “You had an anxiety attack. Any idea what caused it?”

“Fuck.” I snort a derisive laugh. “I know. Being here. Hospitals. Ambulances. Doctors. Nurses.” I glance at her. “You in that uniform.”

She pales and for a second her face drops in horrified shock. Then she quickly recovers herself and her cool competent compassion returns. “PTSD from the night of your parents’ accident.” She doesn’t ask and I’m fucking glad I don’t have to tell her.

All I have to do is nod and it’s like I’m confessing everything from deep in my soul.

Wrapping her arms around me, she sits there with me, holding me while I hold her back, for I don’t know how long. Long enough for Sabien to knock me off the stoop when he opens the door.

“Hey what’s going on? Everything okay out here?” He’s grinning like it’s a big joke. Until he sees my face. “You look like a fucking zombie, man. What’s up? Is it⁠—”

I cut him off. “It’s nothing. Everyone’s fine.” I knew he was asking about Gran, thinking the worst. Thank fuck it’s not that. “Thanks for asking, man.” Thank you for putting my stupid problem with hospitals in perspective.

“We’ll be in, just give us a sec,” Em says and he nods and retreats back inside.

“I owe him, all the guys, big time.”

“What are you talking about? They’re having a ball. Link is dancing with Marge had her hip replaced last week. I’m sure he’s helping her recovery speed up by weeks.”

I snort and grin at her. “I feel ridiculous.”

Her face sobers. “Don’t. What you have is a serious condition. You need treatment.” She looks back inside. “And not trial by fire. I can’t believe you came here knowing… with this anxiety. And I pressured you to come--I’m so sorry I put you through this⁠—”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the dope who didn’t tell you about it.”

“Why Chase?”

“I didn’t want to let you down.” We stare at each other. My heart beats faster and my chest tightens, but this time I’m not panicked. This time it’s all good because it feels amazing to see the effect of my words on her. Not just words, how I feel, how much I care.

She stands and pulls me to my feet and we hug.

“You have no idea how much that means to me, Chase. That was such an unselfish—albeit stupid—act.”

I grin, breathing in the air, my chest expanding fully and my heart filling the space. “I can’t believe you’re giving me sass at a time like this.”

We go inside and she starts heading for the exit where we came in, but I stop her. “Where you going?”

“You need to go⁠—”

I shake my head. “Now that I’m here, I’m damn well going to sign some autographs and eat some of that party food.” I turn to the table where multiple covered hot serving tureens wait with delicious smelling steam pouring from them. Link and Jason are there helping themselves.

I raise my voice, “If there’s any food left after these hoovers get through with it.”

She holds my arm. “Are you sure?” she whispers.

“I insist. I need to get through this and deal with the anxiety.”