Page 14 of Brooklynaire
“Nate, there are limits to sick days in the employeehandbook.”
“What page? I’ll changethem.”
Finally I get a smile out of Rebecca. I wait for her to laugh. She has a great laugh that goes from 0 to 60 in under a second. But today I only get a grin before her face gets sadagain.
“Come on,” I whisper. “This is you and me. We always figure somethingout.”
She gives me a weary look, but it’s less tense now. “Dr. Herberts thinks this specialist might be able to figure out why I’m having such a rough time. But even if he puts a label on it, I won’t magically getbetter.”
“It’s a start, though, Bec.” I reach over and squeeze her wrist briefly, and then let go. It’s the most amount of contact I ever allow myself with her. “You’re not very good at beingpatient.”
“I noticed that.” She stands up. “I’ll work onit.”
“There’s one thing I want you to do forme.”
“What’sthat?”
I rise too, and I get a whiff of the lilac body lotion she wears. The sweet familiarity of it practically knocks me over. And I know the thing I’m about to do breaks all of my rules. I’ve kept myself on a tight leash for years. But this is anemergency.
“I’ll tell you in the car,” Isay.
4
Rebecca
IletNate steer me into a shiny sedan outside the building, where Ramesh—his driver and bodyguard—is waiting. It’s ridiculous to ride along for such a short trip, but I’m all out of energy to argue with Nate. I’m all usedup.
And I’m so, so sick of thatfeeling.
Back there in the tunnel, I nearly fell over. Without his sudden embrace, I would have ended up on thefloor.
Every single day I’m having moments like that—when my balance goes haywire and I can’t function normally. It’s fucking scary. Everything about these last three weeks is scary. I’ve followed the doctors’ advice—resting at home. But it’s not working. I’m nobetter.
The car pulls away from the curb, and Nate asks me a question. “Can I ask why you’re not sleeping? Herberts mentionedthat.”
“It’s not a huge problem,” I lie. I’m so tired of complaining to my boss. “My nephew is teething, and my, uh, sister’s boyfriend works odd hours.” Renny has been bartending for extra cash. “When he comes in at three in the morning, I always hear him. And since Matthew likes to wake my sister to nurse at all hours, there’s just always someone bumping around theapartment.”
“Hmm,” Nate says. “That can’t be helpingyou.”
“It isn’t the end of theworld.”
“Will you call thespecialist?”
“Of course Iwill.”
“No, I mean right now. If the guy is really that busy, you need to get a spot on his docket before it’s toolate.”
Typical bossy Nate. I often push back when he orders me around, but today I just don’t have the energy to fight him. So I pull out the business card with the office number on it. My phone’s bright screen makes me squint, but I tap out the number and then close my eyes against theglare.
When a receptionist answers, I tell her that Dr. Herberts referred me, and ask if I can get anappointment.
“Well, we’re booking for mid-June. If that’s okay with you, I’m happy to put you down for two o’clock on thesixteenth.”
“Okay…” June? If I still feel this way on June sixteenth, I will probably need a psychiatrist and a straitjacket as well as the specialist. But I take the appointment, because I don’t have many otheroptions.
“Well?” Nate asks as the car glides to a stop. He opens the door and slides out, then waits forme.
I follow him across the seat and step out. “She gave me Junesixteenth.”
