Page 15 of Unlocked

“When your sugar gets low, it can affect your thinking, emotions, and cause a variety of symptoms,” I inform her of all that I’d learned while reading up on hypoglycemia. I’m determined to learn all I can about it, because I never want to feel that helpless again. “It can cause you to feel weak, dizzy, hungry, or nauseated, and cause sweating, nervousness, and palpitations.” Shelby listens intently as I explain it all to her. She trusts me, and I have to admit it makes me feel good the way she is looking at me.

Chapter 8

Shelby

What Bo is telling me is beginning to explain a lot. I’ve had issues for years with the list of symptoms he has named. It could explain another reason for my weight problem. I have to eat frequently to prevent me from getting anxious and nervous. I’m clearly going to have to see my doctor and educate myself about this as soon as I get home.

I follow Bo downstairs to find everyone waiting for us on the patio. They have grilled chicken, steak, and vegetables prepared. Marley leaves Luke’s lap to come over to me. She hugs me tightly. “Are you all right?” she asks, pulling back to look at me. I smile and nod.

“I’m fine now,” I assure her. Bo leads me to the table, telling me to take a seat while he fixes me a plate despite my protests that I can fix my own. The man is so bossy, but if I’m honest, I kind of like that he is taking care of me. I haven’t been taken care of since I was a child. My aunt did fuss over me when I first went to live with her, but this feels different.

“How are you feeling Shelby?” Daisy asks the moment I sit down at the large table where everyone is gathered.

“Much better,” I reply, honestly. “Bo explained it more to me, and I have had episodes like this for many years. I just never knew what caused it.”

“Let me check your glucose again,” Daisy says. She comes to my side with her bag. I nod, even though I’m dreading it. I hate to be such a baby, but I hate getting my finger stuck. “Let me have a finger.” Daisy holds out a hand, and I reluctantly place my left hand in it. As she cleans off my index finger with an alcohol prep. Bo is suddenly on my other side. He discreetly takes my right hand under the table and holds it, letting me squeeze his hand as Daisy checks my blood sugar. “Eighty-eight.” Daisy declares seconds later. “That is very good. I recommend following a low carbohydrate diet to prevent the rapid rise and fall of your blood sugar.”

“Okay, thank you,” I reply.

“Is what I got her okay?” Bo asks. He sets the plate in front of me. Daisy looks over the food on it. Grilled chicken breast, zucchini, and yellow squash on a kabab stick with a serving of steamed broccoli and cauliflower, and a large yeast roll on the side. She grins at Bo, nodding her head.

“Everything except that roll,” Daisy points to the fluffy delicious looking roll. I groan as Bo plucks it off my plate and places it next to the two on his over flowing plate of food. I roll my eyes as he digs into his food, eating like a man starved. I begin to eat as well, but I’m terribly uncomfortable. I don’t like to eat around other people. I suppose it comes from all the times my father would comment on what or how much food I ate. I would often only eat a little bit at meals, then sneak back to get more later when he was gone or passed out.

I look up to notice no one is paying any attention to me. They are all too busy talking, laughing, and eating to noticewhat I’m eating. Having been an only child, I’m not used to this many people eating together at once, except for in restaurants. Everyone seems to be talking at the same time. It’s a bit overwhelming, but in a way, it is amazing, too. Seeing how they interact with one another. Bo’s brothers bickering back and forth is hilarious.

I eat some of chicken and vegetables, but I don’t have much of an appetite. The day has been overwhelming, and for once, I don’t want to eat my troubles away. I lay my fork down and take a sip of water from my glass. I listen to the conversations flowing around me. Bo’s hand on my thigh draws my attention.

“Are you, okay?” He leans over to ask quietly, so only he and I can hear.

“Yes.” I reply, a little surprised at his continued concern. I’m having a hard time reconciling the jock/playboy I know him to be with the man who seems to focused on my wellbeing.

“You haven’t eaten much.” Bo gestures to my still mostly full plate.

“I’ve eaten,” I argue. “Just because I don’t inhale my food without tasting it, doesn’t mean I’m not eating.” Bo gets the most amazing grin on his face. He is really very handsome when he smiles like that. “What are you smiling about?”

“Just glad to see you are back to your sassy self.” I glare at his response, which only seems to make him smile all the more. I huff with indignation before turning back to my food. No one else at the table seems to notice our interactions.He thinks I’m sassy? That’s supposed to be a bad thing, but I get the feeling he likes it when I’m sassy. If I’m honest, I like that he likes my sassy mouth. What does that say about the both of us?

“Shelby?” Marley calls to me after everyone has finished eating. “We decided we are going to have a party at Jay’s like we talked about earlier. We are thinking next week a couple of days before the wedding. Luke and the guys will go with us.” I nod,even though I have a bad feeling about going to the bar. I haven’t been to one since that horrible night all those years ago. I reason with myself that I can make it through one evening. Just hang with the girls, no interacting with men at the bar. Dread courses through me, threatening to cause me to lose the meal I just ate.I can do this! Yeah, right.

“I’ve talked to Hillary and Ashley,” Marley chatters on happily. “They are both coming, too! It’ll be so good for us all to have some fun together before the rehearsal and wedding.” I’m again nodding and trying to smile, to share in her excitement and happiness, but inside all I feel is trepidation.

A couple of hours later the gathering on the patio begins to break up. The men head inside to go over their plans for security at the bachelorette party. Daisy and I help Marley carry in the dirty dishes into the kitchen, putting away the leftovers, rinsing off the dishes, and placing them in the dishwasher. We settle into the living room with our glasses of wine.

“I think the lavender dresses will be perfect,” Daisy says once we’ve all taken our seats. “Mrs. Grace should be here with them in the morning.” Marley is practically glowing in anticipation. I can’t blame her. If I were getting married to a man who adored me as much as Luke seems to love Marley, I’d be over the moon, too. I’m so happy for my friend, but it brings out a melancholy mood in me. I’ll never have what Marley and Daisy have. I can see just how much both women are in love and it is returned. Those men would move heaven and earth for their woman.

What would it be like to have someone love you that much? What would it be like to have Bo look at me that way?I will never know, because I’m too fat to find a man who’s interested in me despite what Bo had indicated last week before he disappeared. Even if I could gain his real attention, I’m afraid to let anyone get too close to me for fear of being rejected. I heave out a heavy breath not realizing I’ve done it until I’m questioned.

“What’s brought that on?” Daisy asks, turning toward me.

“What?” I frown, feeling like I’ve missed something while I’ve been lost in my own thoughts.

“What’s with the deep sigh? You sound like you’ve lost your best friend or something.”

“Just because I’m getting married doesn’t mean we will stop being friends,” Marley says teasingly. I roll my eyes in dramatic fashion.

“I didn’t realize I sighed,” I acknowledge. “I was just thinking how lucky you both are to have men who seem to love you so much.”

“It will happen for you, too,” Marley declares. I shake my head, but give her as much of a smile as I can muster in an effort to make her think I agree. I know she means well, but she isn’t aware that I don’t date, ever. Whenever she asks about my ‘love life’, I always respond with the same answer, ‘All I meet are duds’. Which isn’t a complete lie, more like a half truth. All I’ve ever been around were jerks. I just choose to not expose myself to more disappointment and heartache.

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