Page 37 of Maybe in Another Life

“Do we know Hannah, or do we know Hannah?” Carl says.

He puts it down in front of me. “You get first dibs. I would expect nothing less of you than to pick the one with the most icing.”

I inhale deeply, getting the smell of the cinnamon and the sugar. And then, suddenly, I have to get out of here.

I slam my chair out from under me and run toward the hallway bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I’m just in front of the toilet when it all comes back up. I feel faint and a little dizzy. I’m exhausted.

I sit down in front of the toilet. The cool bathroom tile feels good against my skin. I don’t know how long I sit there. I’m startled back to reality by Gabby knocking on the door. She doesn’t wait for me to answer before she comes in.

“Are you OK?” she says.

“Yeah.” I stand up. I feel so much better now. “I’m good.” I shake my head in an attempt to snap out of it. “Maybe I’m allergic to brussels sprouts?”

“Oof,” she says, smiling. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

In a few minutes, after gathering myself and finding the mouthwash, I make my way back to the table.

“I’m so sorry about that,” I say. “I think my body was shocked that I fed it vegetables.”

Tina laughs. “You’re sure you’re OK?”

“Yeah,” I assure her. “I’m feeling completely normal.”

Gabby grabs her purse and my jacket. “But I’m thinking we should take her home,” she announces.

I really do feel as if I could stay, but it’s probably smart to head back. Get some sleep.

“Yeah,” Mark says, scratching again. “I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed by the dog, too, if I’m being honest.”

I don’t know if anyone notices it except me, but Gabby rolls her eyes, ever so subtly. She’s annoyed with him. For being allergic to dogs. I guess it’s the small things in a marriage that grate on you the most.

“Oh, we’re so sorry,” Tina says. “We’ll keep medication for you here from now on. In case you forget another time.”

“Oh, thanks,” Mark says. “Admittedly, the pills don’t help that much.” He then proceeds to talk for a full five minutes about all of his symptoms and which ones are and are not helped by allergy pills. The way he talks about it, you’d think being allergic to dogs was like being diagnosed with an incurable disease. Christ, even I’m annoyed with his allergy now.

“Well,” Carl says as we move toward the door, “we love having you all here.”

“Oh!” Tina says. “Hannah, let me pack up some cinnamon buns for you. Is that OK?”

“I’d love that,” I say. “Thank you so much.”

“OK, one second.” She runs into the kitchen, and Gabby goes with her. Carl and I are standing by the front door. Mark is standing by the steps. He excuses himself to use the restroom. “My eyes are starting to tear,” he says by way of explanation.

Carl watches him go and then pulls me over to the side.

“Buy a car,” Carl says.

“Hm?”

“Buy a car. Live with Gabby and Mark until you earn some money for a deposit.”

“Yeah,” I say. “That sounds like the smart way to play it.”

“And when you have the car, call my office.” He pulls a business card out of his wallet and hands it to me.Dr. Carl Hudson, Pediatrics.

“Oh,” I say. “I’m not sure I—”

“We have a receptionist,” he says. “She’s terrible. Absolutely terrible. I have to fire her.”

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