Page 7 of Whenever You Call

“No,” I lied.

“You’re always like that now, Mommy.”

Bella’s voice cut through me like a sharp blade, and I closed my eyes to let the regret wash over me. She’d spoken nothing but the truth, and the reality of that made my stomach churn even more than it already was. Heat rose in the back of my neck, blurring my vision. My breaths suddenly felt short, and I gripped the steering wheel in front of me, not missing the damp warmth on my forehead. A familiar sense of nausea rose quickly, not giving me a chance to get everything under control until hot bile singed my throat, and despite my empty stomach, I knew I was going to puke.

I needed air, and I needed it quickly.

Pushing the car door open, and no doubt hitting the paramedic on my way, I leaned forward just in time to vomit in the middle of the drive-thru, where a small queue had already started to form behind us. My body wretched again, my back tight with the pain of trying to eject the anxiety inside of me like that was even possible.

The sting of the last month stabbed at every nerve ending I had within my skin.

The unexpected loss and complicated grief.

The worry of parental failure.

The gut-wrenching loneliness.

The never-ending regrets and the anger.

Thatmotherfuckinganger.

My armor had cracked, and there I sat, bleeding out in front of the very people I’d wanted to hide from… until the paramedic I’d almost forgotten about came to stand in front of me, blocking me from view of those behind us in the queue, while I struggled to catch a full breath.

Bella’s worried voice echoed somewhere in the background, but I could barely hear her over the sound of my own heartbeat rising like the swell of an unstoppable tide. Her conversation soon turned toward the paramedic, who now had a hand pressed against my back, and I faintly heard him reassure her while somehow reassuring me, too. He shouted at the cars behind us to back up so he could get both vehicles out of the way, and when his hand eventually slipped away from my spine, I thought he’d finally left us on our own for good. But soon enough, he returned, somehow sliding me over to the passenger seat so that he could take my place behind the wheel, and all I could think when he did that was:

What kind of mother falls apart like this, allowing a stranger into a car with her daughter without even bothering to put up a fight?

Sometime not long after that thought, my eyes closed without my permission, and everything around me faded to black.

The comforting handon my forehead had me reaching up to hold it against me. It felt nice, that familiar touch. A man’s touch.

“Cole,” I whispered, but when I opened my eyes and turned to look at him, another man sat in his place.

The paramedic guy.

Watching my reactions, he carefully raised his hands in surrender. “I’m no one to worry about. You blacked out. Only for a few seconds, but I couldn’t leave you until I was sure you were okay.”

“Bella?” I croaked, barely recognizing my own voice.

“I’m here, Mommy. Logan rescued Dolly for me,” my daughter chirped up from the backseat.

“Logan?”

His eyes searched mine for a moment, and he nodded once. “Hey.”

“Logan,” I sighed, forcing myself to sit upright in my seat.

“You should rest. Panic attacks are serious business, especially severe ones. It can take your body a while to recover.”

I winced. “I feel that.”

“You should probably get checked out.”

“I thought that’s what you were doing. Checking me out.”

Logan cleared his throat and scratched at his brow. “A doctor would be able to give you a more thorough examination.”

I shifted more, trying to stretch my aching limbs out, only to wince again when my chest tightened. “I’m fine,” I pushed out, both of us knowing that another lie had slipped free.

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