The next thing she knew, she was lying on the ground, staring at a flower, because there were flowers everywhere on this island. So pretty. They should move here. Also, it was hard to breathe. Her damn asthma. It felt like there was a leather belt cinched around her chest, getting tighter with every second.
“Honey! Lauren! Honey!” Josh was there, and she tried to smile, but her chest hurt, and her breath squeaked.
“Inhaler,” she whispered. He was already fumbling in the backpack and quickly pulled it out and handed it to her. She took a hit, then another, and her breathing eased a bit.
“Your lips are blue,” he said, and his voice was shaking.
A small crowd had gathered. “Want me to call 911?” someone asked.
“No,” she said at the same time Josh said yes. He scooped her up and carried her to the side of the road to wait.
“Thank God you . . . work out, babe,” she said, still puffing. “It’d be so embarrassing . . . if you had to drag me.” Big breath. “For you, that is. Not me.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite fool her. He was worried.
Blue lips. That was a first. Residual cold from the swim? The elevation? Some weird allergic reaction to the fruit?
The EMTs gave her oxygen and said fainting wasn’t that uncommon after this hike, especially if a person wasn’t in great shape.
Rude. She was in great shape. She just had asthma. “Ride in ambulance, check!” she said as they unloaded her at the hospital. “This was thrilling. Thanks, guys! Mahalo!” They did that cool thumb-pinkie wave and wished her well.
Josh’s face was somber, but she reassured him. The ER doctor wasn’t worried. He gave her a five-day course of prednisone, listened to her lungs and said she sounded like someone with asthma. “It’s probably the exertion coupled with the difference in humidity, but everything else looks good,” he said. “Make sure you drink lots of water and have a good dinner tonight. Your oxygen saturation is ninety-five, which is on the low side of normal. You might be a little anemic, given that you’re a woman who gets her period, which can also cause a drop in O2 sats. You said you’re on your honeymoon, so if you’ve been hitting the mai tais, back off on that, because alcohol can make you dehydrated, which doesn’t help anything.”
“Killjoy,” Lauren said. Mai tais were the new love of her life. Ah, well. There was always tomorrow.
It took Josh a full day to stop checking to see if she’d faint again. She had to admit, she kind of loved being treated like a delicate orchid. The honeymoon progressed with no further incidents . . . just love. And fun. Joshua got a tan. Lauren’s nose sunburned a little. They took an inner tube ride down an old plantation canal through the rainforest. Snorkeled with turtles and brilliant-colored fish. They went jet-skiing, and saw a pod of spinner dolphins who played with them for a few minutes before darting off into the cerulean ocean. One night, they ate at a little shack-like restaurant and heard a Hawaiian singer, and the music was so lovely and happy. Lauren sat with her back against Josh, and the singer dedicated a song to “the young lovers at table four.” So, so romantic.
Best of all was going back to their pretty little rented house each night, giving their food leftovers to the stray cat who had marked them as softies, and watching the sunset, holding hands.
It was hard to leave.
“We’ll come back,” Josh promised. “Every few years, how’s that? This house, every time. Maybe we can even buy it if it ever goes on the market.”
Sometimes she forgot he was wealthy. Well. They were wealthy now. Josh wouldn’t sign a prenup, even when she had said she wouldn’t mind. “That would indicate a lack of faith in our future,” he’d said in his serious way. “And my faith in our future is absolute.” Lauren asked Stephanie what she thought, and Steph smiled and said, “Josh has never once made me question his judgment. I’m not going to start now.”
So yes, a house in Hawaii wasn’t out of the question. And hey, she made a decent living, too. It wasn’t like she brought nothing to the table.
Back home, her dry cough returned. After a couple of weeks, she went to the doctor, who drew blood and tested her for the usual viruses, and everything was negative or normal.
So she didn’t worry.
Just before the wedding, they’d moved into a bigger apartment in the same mill building where Lauren had lived. It had more character than Josh’s building, so he sold his place and they bought a three-bedroom with access to the rooftop garden.
Oh, the joy in making it lovely and warm—her specialty, after all. She turned one bedroom into his study and got lounge chairs and a table for the garden up top. He had to sit in the middle of the roof, given his fear of heights, which she thought was cute. The second bedroom could be for guests, though they agreed they’d eventually want a house. For now, the apartment was absolutely perfect. They had friends over, like real grown-ups. One Sunday, they made dinner for their mothers, Jen, Darius and Sebastian, who now called Joshua “Unca Josh.” Seeing him play with her nephew was a preview of coming attractions. Oh, he’d be such a good father! Maybe even as good as her own.
Though Josh was a workaholic, Lauren made him limit his computer time on weekends so they could cook together, take walks, go to the farmers’ market and buy beautiful mushrooms and tomatoes. Work was going great—Bruce the Mighty and Beneficent loved her and gave her some plum assignments. They had him and his husband, Tom, over for dinner, and moved from boss-employee to friends.
At her annual review, she got a nice raise and an office of her own, which made Lori Cantore hiss with jealousy. Lauren didn’t care; Lori was just that type, and she had Louise and Santino as work friends. The first thing she put on her desk was a picture of her and Josh, taken in the lush yard of their house on Kauai, the glorious sunset in the background.
Every Thursday night, she volunteered at the Hope Center, and helped with the open house on the first Sunday of each month. Josh donated a 3-D printer and hit up RISD for a grant. (They had ignored Lauren when she asked, but for their golden boy, anything. It was for a good cause, so who cared how it got done?) She saw her sister for lunch at least once a week, and she and Josh babysat so Darius and Jen could go out.
Twice a month, she made sure to go out with her girlfriends—Sarah, Mara, sometimes Asmaa and Louise, too. She didn’t want to be that woman who disappeared after marriage, and while being with Josh was her absolute favorite thing, she wanted to remind both of them that she had other people she loved.
Every morning, Josh made her breakfast. He cooked her dinner once a week; she loved cooking, and he didn’t, but it was the thought that counted. He set up a weekly flower delivery for her office, so every Monday as she shook off the faint melancholy that the weekend had ended, there was a fresh bouquet of flowers in her office, never with lilies, because they gave her a headache. The fact that he remembered that about her was as romantic as the flowers themselves.