“Honey, is everything okay?” my mom asks as we sit in the living room, watching her favorite show on the Food Network while Caylen plays with her toys. We’ve had dinner and Lauren’s gone back to her room. I’m not sure what she does in there. There isn’t a TV in there or anything. I guess she could be on her laptop. I wonder if I weren’t here, would she be in here with my mom and Caylen. I already know the answer to that.
She would be here if I weren’t.
“Yeah, it’s just been a long day,” I say with a sigh.
“I think Lauren and I are going to try this recipe,” she says, recording the show and turning towards me.
“How is she?” I ask her casually.
“She’s doing really well. She’s not a bad a cook as she made herself out to be.” My mom chuckles.
“I didn’t really mean the cooking, Mom.”
“Maybe you should ask her, Chris.” My mother’s warm smile makes me wish it was that simple.
“It’s not that easy. She doesn’t really want to be around me,” I admit.
“Why is that?” my mom asks genuinely.
Because you suck at life. You’re an oblivious jerk. A giant pussy.
“She probably thinks things are better this way,” I say quietly. My mom turns the TV to Nick Jr. and comes to sit next to me on the couch.
“How do you feel about that?” Her green eyes seem to see through me. She puts her hand on mine and I say what I’ve wanted to say since that night I pushed her away.
“Terrible,” I admit.
“Son, I know you are in a very difficult situation. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Dr. Lyce? I know you’re not thrilled that she kept your condition from you but she is a very good doctor,” my mom says, and I roll my eyes.
“No. I’m not dealing with her anymore,” I say adamantly, and she nods.
“I don’t have the answers that you need. I can’t explain what you’re feeling or why.” She sighs. “But I don’t think it would be wise to make a life changing decision that you’re feeling so conflicted about,” my mom says quietly.
“What do you mean?” I ask her. Is she saying what I think she’s saying?
“Maybe you and Jenna should take a break,” my mom says, looking at me cautiously.
“I—I can’t do that. Jenna won’t take it as a break, especially after I proposed to her.”
“Christopher, when you marry someone, there should be no doubt or second guessing,” my mom says, her soft tone stern.
“When I married your father, I knew that I could spend the rest of my life with him and not think twice. There was no other person that I wanted or could imagine myself being with,” she says, a warm smile spreading across her face. After all these years, she still loves him.
“If you can’t say that, there’s a big problem,” she says adamantly. “I know that Jenna was there for you, that she was a great friend to you while I was sick. I love her for that and was glad you had someone that was able to pull you out of your depression and help you face things.”
I can hear the “but” coming.
“…But there was so much going on at that time, and you were just settling back into your life. A life that had been interrupted so frequently. I know that you love her.” She takes my hand.
“Are you in love with her, honey? Are you with Jenna at this moment because you love her and can’t imagine not having her in your life?”
I start to think about what she’s just said. I love Jenna, I do. Am I in love with her? I can feel my heart beating with each word she says. I never really thought about being in love with a person. Movies romanticize everything. They make being in love seem sugar-coated, a roller coaster, surreal. I think love is sacrifice. True love is being with someone through the hard times, through sickness, through poverty. My parents faced all of that. I know that they love each other. I know that I could do that for Jenna. I know that Jenna would do that for me. Still there’s moments like now, when my mom talks about my dad and her eyes light up. The moments they’re together when no one is watching, when their actions aren’t for show, that I think maybe being in love isn’t a fairy tale…and when Cal looked at Lauren—when I look at Lauren--suddenly, my heart starts beating in my ears. I feel nervous, my skin is hot, and it becomes harder to breath. Like my body has forgotten how. My chest is getting tighter and tighter.
“Christopher, are you okay?” My vision is getting blurry.
“I—I can’t breathe,” I choke out. “My chest,” I say. I stand up trying to catch my breath, but it’s not working. I see my mom’s eyes widen in horror.
“William! William!”
Her yells turn to screams as I hear footsteps leaving the room. My whole body is shaking. It’s harder and harder to breath.
“I’m calling 911,” I hear someone say, but everything is starting to sound muffled.
I don’t know who says what.
Then.
I feel a warm hand on my arm and I’m pushed back on the couch.
“I think he’s having a heart attack,” a voice says.
“He’s not having a heart attack,” says another voice.
A moment later, someone is sitting on top of me, warm hands grip my chin and lift my head up.
Lauren is sitting on top of me, on my lap. Her hands are shaking and she’s holding my head between them, making me look at her.
“Chris, you have to breathe,” she says, her voice is shaky but stern. “Everything is okay. You just have to breathe,” she says again. I nod as I try to do as she says. My mom has Caylen in her arms but is still on the phone.
“Deep breaths, Chris. Everything is fine,” she says, stroking my head, holding my cheek close to her chest. My chest relaxes and air starts to fill my lungs again. I feel my temperature cooling, my heart not racing as fast.
“It’s going to be okay. Breathe through your nose now,” she says, continuing to stroke my head. Her voice isn’t shaky anymore. Instead, it's calm, sweet like a lullaby, and all of my senses slowly return to normal.
“What just happened?” mom says frantically. I glance up at her, the color almost gone from her face. She’s shaking, with Caylen in one hand and a phone in the other.
“Oh, yes ma’am, never mind. Everything’s fine. He’s going to be okay,” she says into the phone.
“He just had a panic attack,” Lauren says, still holding me close. I notice my arms are around her back. I don’t even remember putting them there, but it feels natural, and I’m still not letting her go.
“My friend used to have them,” she says quietly. I feel her leaning back, away from me. I loosen my grip around her waist. I’m too embarrassed to look up at her. She lifts my chin up so that I have to look at her and she smiles. The sweetest smile I’ve ever seen from her, the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen in my life. She looks like an angel.
“You saved me,” I say gratefully, looking up into those big hazel eyes. I didn’t realize how much I missed seeing them until now.
She shakes her head. “You weren’t dying.” She giggles.
“I almost died!” my mom says, breathing with relief. She holds a hand to her chest.