Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
They talked about movies and donuts in town and any and everything they could.
Hours went by. She seemed less fidgety than she had been. She wasn’t playing with the hairs around her bald spot anymore.
She was too young to look as tired as she did. He could see Shane in her. She had a very simple beauty to her face.
Van told her he was gay and waited for the possibility of a negative response but, if anything, her eyes brightened in a strange way. He wanted to reach out to her, make her feel comfortable, so he told her how he’d struggled with it at first, with accepting himself but that he realized if anyone had a problem with him, it was their problem and not his.
“I know it’s silly,” she said softly a little while later. “My house is a quarter of a mile down that driveway but I just…I panicked. I came out to check the mail. Shane usually does it but damn it, I should be able to check my own mail. He has too much responsibility. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t make myself move. I feel a lot better now.”
“Good,” he told her. He wanted to reach out and squeeze her hand but didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. “And it’s not silly. We all have our demons.”
“I’m tired. I think I need to go home now,” she told him.
“I can help you, or we can call Shane. Whichever you’d prefer.”
They didn’t have a chance to do either. A truck suddenly jerked into the gravel, kicking up flecks of gravel as it went. Shane jumped out, looking fierce, just as Van pushed to his feet.
“She’s okay,” Van quickly said. “I sat with her and just talked. She’s okay.”
“What are you doing?” Shane gave him a hard glare before he knelt beside his mom.
“I’m okay,” she repeated what Van had said. “It’s stupid. I just…I felt okay today, and I wanted to check the mail. You know how quick the panic attacks can hit sometimes. I feel ridiculous.”
“You look tired.” Shane gently pushed a lock of short hair behind her ear. “Come on. Let’s get you home. I can’t believe you didn’t call me.”
Shane helped her stand. He went to take her arm but she was holding Van’s phone in her hand. She held it out to him, and Shane watched intensely. Van saw a kaleidoscope of different emotions flash across his face as Annie passed the phone back.
“Thank you for talking to me,” she said.
“It was my pleasure.”
“You should come to dinner sometime with me and Shane. Wouldn’t that be nice, Shane? To thank him for sitting with me?”
The emotions on Shane’s face changed even more—confusion, anger, maybe a little shame. Van jumped in to save him. “I appreciate that, but I couldn’t put you guys out. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be in town anyway.”
“Come on, Ma. Let’s get you home to rest,” Shane said. Without looking back, he led her to his truck and helped her in, the tires kicking up dust again when they pulled away.
Van realized then that no matter what he did or said, Shane would never forgive him. As much as that hurt to realize, he knew he deserved it.
CHAPTER SIX
Shane sat in a chair in his mom’s room, feet on the edge of her bed, the soft glow of a lamp in the corner. She’d been sleeping for hours, obviously needing it. Her panic attack and fear had no doubt taken a lot out of her.
It wasn’t as if she could never walk to the edge of the driveway to check the mail. Sometimes she could. Sometimes she couldn’t. Sometimes the panic and anxiety presented like agoraphobia for her, but that had never been her diagnosis. All the markers didn’t fit. She had major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, and panic disorder. Oh, and trichotillomania. When she was nervous, scared, or stressed, she played with the same spot of hair on her head to the point where she had a bald patch a little over the size of a quarter. That came and went.
That was her life.
That was his life.
He shook his head, frustrated at himself for going there. They were okay. They always made sure they were okay.
He looked up when he heard a soft sigh from the bed. His mom rolled over onto her side and faced him. Neither of them moved. Shane still in the chair, arms crossed, feet on the bed. He watched over her as she lay on her side with her legs curled.
After a few moments, she whispered, “I’m sorry, Shaney. This house is my solace. The only place in the world I’m totally comfortable in my skin, but sometimes it’s like the walls are closing in on me. Like I can’t breathe if I don’t get out. But then I get out and a different kind of panic sets in and I can’t breathe out there either. I’m sorry,” she said again.