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)
The second his brush touched the canvas, that was the end of everything else. He was lost on two male bodies twined together so you couldn’t tell where one stopped and the other began.
He hadn’t been working long before there was a loud bang from the porch that sounded as though something hard had hit it. “What the fuck?” Van put his paintbrush down. He made it to the door in a few long strides and said, “Holy shit.”
He bent next to Shane’s mom who had her arms wrapped around her legs and her head down. She was rocking, back and forth and counting quietly. His gut twisted like a chain on a swing when you spun it around. Each breath she took was sharp as though she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs and couldn’t slow her breathing down either.
“Hey…Mrs. Wallace. Remember we met by the side of the road that day? I’m a friend of Shane’s. I’m going to call him okay? We’ll get him right over here.”
“No!” She rushed out. “Don’t call him. I’ll be okay. I can pull myself out of it.”
He wasn’t so sure about that. And he knew Shane. There’s no way he wouldn’t want to know about that.
“Drawer,” she said. “Table.” Sharp breath. “By the door.” She sounded like she was hyperventilating. Each breath was short, sharp and much too fast for Van’s comfort.
He was close enough that he could lean in, and pull the drawer open. There were a few pill bottles inside, all of them with her name on them. He grabbed them all and held them out. “Here, I have them. Which one do you need?”
Her hands shook as she fumbled with them. Her breathing sped up, really fucking fast. Her body still rocked back and forth. Her hands trembled so much she could hardly control them.
She picked one up, tried to open it but it fell from her hand. Van picked up the bottle and twisted the top. “The Ativan? Are you sure this is the right one?”
She nodded. He wasn’t sure she would be able to hold onto it.
“Let me get you some water.”
She shook her head. “Sublingual.”
Ah, so it would melt under her tongue. She put the pill in her mouth and closed her eyes. She still rocked, still breathing heavily and Van sat there with her.
“We’ll sit right here as long as you need,” he told her. And he would too, just like that day at the end of the driveway.
She looked over at him then…and smiled. “Thought. It. Was. You,” she said between breaths.
She was quiet a few minutes. He could tell she was trying to concentrate on her breathing. On her counting. She held her chest which made Van’s blood pressure shoot up. It was a few minutes later, when she said, “Inside,” in a parched voice. “I want to make it inside.”
“Let me help you.” Van tried to reach for her but she shook him off.
“Want to do it. I need to do it.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “I’m right here if you need something.”
She slowly pushed to her feet. Van stood back, giving her space but also not letting himself get out of reach. She took a small step, then another and another, until she walked inside Shane’s house.
Her legs were wobbly and he kept close to her as she made it to the couch, and went down on it.
Van closed the door, got her a glass of water, and then sat down beside her.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I was fine. Jesus, I was fine when I started coming over. I saw your car and thought I remembered it from that day a couple weeks back. Plus, the pictures…I knew Shane had to be seeing you because of the photographs he gave me from you. But the closer I got…I don’t know…my mind just got away from me. I kept thinking, what if it wasn’t you? What if Shane didn’t know you were here? What if I didn’t make it? What if you weren’t the kind of man I know you are? I know it’s silly. I know it doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s not silly,” he told her. The mind was a funny thing.
“It’s so easy to get lost in your own head like that. To not be able to think clearly. To feel out of control and not be able to do a damn thing about it. I know the things I worry about aren’t realistic but that doesn’t stop the fear from tearing through me, of ripping me apart inside.”
Jesus, he couldn’t imagine. He thought maybe Annie Wallace was the bravest person he knew. “Do you want me to call Shane?” he asked. He felt like he should.
“No. I just need to rest for a bit.”
He winced and she added, “I promise I’ll let you know if I need him.”