Page 41 of It's Not PMS, It's You
He pointed up to the sky with his index finger. “Involving an airplane, I presume?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Yesterday. The pilot had to do a belly landing without landing gear. We all thought we were going to die.”
“That’s horrible.”
“It was. You probably saw it on the news.”
Nick shook his head. “I don’t watch the news.”
I arched an eyebrow. “No?”
“Too much negativity and stress. I prefer reruns ofI Love Lucy.”
I whipped my head toward Nick. “Ilovethat show. My favorite episode is the one where she’s stomping grapes in Rome.”
He grinned. “One of my favorites . . . I also like the episode where Lucy and Ethel are working at the chocolate factory and stuffing candy in their mouths and blouses.”
I laughed. “That’s a classic. Did you know Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz had a summer home here in Del Mar? It’s still there, right on the beach.”
I nodded. “Ididknow that. And after they got divorced, Desi lived in the house full-time. But didyouknow that I designed the courtyard on their property?”
I just stared at Nick, wondering if he was serious.
My bullshit detector was confused at the moment.
I could feel his sincerity, but I was pretty sure that would’ve been logistically impossible for him to have done any design work for them since they hadn’t lived in that house in decades and Nick wasn’t old.
There’s only one way to find out.“How old are you?”
“Forty-five.” Nick chuckled. “Okay—I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t say I designed the courtyardwhilethey were living there. The house has gone through a couple of owners and remodels since then.”
“Now that makes sense.”
“Anyway, just remember . . . you promised you would try this stress-buster exercise. And it sounds like you need it. Especially when you have thoughts of you-know-what.” He pointed to the sky.
“Yeah . . . you can’t imagine what it feels like to think you’re going to die.”
“Well, actually, I can imagine it very well, because it happened to me,” Nick said.
I cocked my head to the side. “You thought you were going to die?”
“I almostdiddie. I guess you can say I was teetering on the edge of life and death.” He pressed his hand to his heart. “My ticker wanted to stop ticking. Well, it actually did for a little bit.”
“What happened?”
“Heart attack five years ago, at the age of forty.”
“I didn’t know people could have heart attacks at such a young age.”
“It’s not as common, but it can happen.” He pointed to the scar on his chin. “I gotthisfrom hitting the floor after the heart attack.” He patted his chest. “I have another scar here from the surgery. So, you were wondering how I know about stress, well, stress almost killed me. I’m okay now, and still have some work to do, but I don’t want to see anyone go through what I went through. Not even my worst enemy.”
The poor guy.
Without thinking, I instinctively placed my hand on top of his hand and patted it. “Wow. I’m so sorry, but I’m glad you’re okay.”
Nick glanced down at my hand on top of his, and I quickly pulled it away, and stood.
What am I doing?
