Page 43 of Peppermint Bark

As Mallory held my hands for balance, my shoulders felt the heavy weight of warm wool, with the same smell as the scarf, but stronger: pine, mint, and … safety. Surprise flickered over her face as her gaze lifted to her brother over my shoulder. His cheeks pinkened from the crisp air, shivering in his thin sweater.

Alexander half-carried me to the parking lot. When I saw my truck, I felt a rush of panic and dropped my hands to my knees to stop the spinning.

Mallory distracted me by pointing out the tree in the truck bed. She said tomorrow, I could come over and make the popcorn garland, even though last year she grabbed the wrong bag and it made the dog sick, but this year she’ll use the unbuttered kind.

While she talked, making plans and telling stories to keep me in the present, Alexander opened the back door and helped me inside. Although my hands were still shaky, as I came back to myself, my confusion was replaced with embarrassment. I tried to protest that I was ok. Mallory assured me that of course I was, but when I lose time like this, I feel exhausted. She was right.

I curled up on my side as she bundled her jacket under my head and he draped his coat over my body. My eyelids felt so heavy, I’d just close them for a second.

Chapter 17

Alex

“I’m taking her to the hospital,” I insisted gruffly.

“When this happened before, she wanted to be taken home.”

“She needs professional help.”

“She is professional help, she’s a fucking social worker.”

“This isn’t normal, Mal.” I shifted gears, unsure whether to head home or to the hospital. One thought pulsed through my veins: “She’s not ok.”

“She would be ok if you hadn’t grabbed her and thrown her over your shoulder. You scared the shit out of her!” Mallory yelled.

I yelled back. “I didn’t know she would —”

A whimper rose from the back seat. In the rearview, she looked asleep.

Panic fluttered wildly around in my chest with the need to fix her.

Mallory hissed, “Last time she said, ‘All they can do at the hospital is check my pulse and send me a bill. I just want to go home and be left alone.’”

‘Feliz Navidad’ came on — Christ, how often do they play that fucking song? — but instead of bouncing along, Mallory flicked off the radio before looking out the window.

A few miles passed in tense silence.

“You should learn to drive stick, in case I’m not …”

As she watched me shift. I whispered, “I could teach you.”

“Who would survive the driving Thunder Dome?” she snorted, knowing I would flip my lid when she struggled with the clutch. “I'll ask Dad.”

Maybe I’d misjudged my sister. She was impulsive, but that didn’t make her unreliable. She knew how to take care of Grace when I was failing.

“How often does this happen?”

“Less than it used to.” She pulled down her ponytail and ran her fingers through her hair. “More if she’s stressed or not sleeping well. When she’s well resourced — meditating, doing yoga, eating right — it’s less common, but unexpected things can still be triggers.”

“Like what?”

“Obviously being thrown over somebody’s shoulder,” she said.

I clutched the wheel tighter and felt my teeth grind.

“Sorry, Alex, I shouldn’t have … you didn’t know she struggles with being upside down. We approach inversion poses carefully at yoga class. She's ok if her feet are on the ground but struggles as soon as her legs go up, so she won’t do headstands or forearm balance poses unless I’m there. I’ve never asked why because it's none of my business, but my guess is her asshole brother Levi dangled her from a tree or something.”

My fists clenched the steering wheel tighter at the idea of her brother being rough with her … even though I’d thrown my sister over my shoulder, it hadn’t been malicious.

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