Page 60 of #Moonstruck

“Careful,” Ryan said, swatting his hand. “There’s a bee.”

“Too late. And I’m deathly allergic to bees.”

He started yelling for the medic, and I could feel my face puffing up. There was an itching and burning sensation, like somebody had set my face on fire. I had an Epi-Pen in my purse in the wardrobe trailer. I tried to say as much, but my throat and tongue had started to swell, making it impossible to talk.

Panicking was the worst possible thing I could do, so I did my best to stay calm. Ryan, however, did not.

He yelled at everyone to do something and held on to me tightly. Fortunately, the medic had an epinephrine shot in his bag. He administered it, saying I still needed to go to a hospital. He offered a couple of places. There was a hospital in Forks, but that was about forty-five minutes away. There was also a smaller medical center about fifteen minutes north of us.

Ryan immediately chose the closer medical center.

While we waited for a car, the medic used his fingernail to get the stinger out. He washed the area where the stinger had been, then he put some hydrocortisone cream on it. The car arrived, and Ryan picked me up and carried me over. This time I was aware and awake, and it most definitely was the sexiest thing ever. I laid my still-puffy face against his shoulder. He put me into the back seat, climbed in next to me, and immediately put his arm around my shoulders. As if he couldn’t stop touching me.

The medic climbed into the front seat, presumably to keep an eye on me.

During the car ride, I realized I could talk again. “How do I look?” I asked him in a strangled voice, wondering what he would say.

“Like you stared directly into the Lost Ark.”

His answer so surprised me that I started to laugh, which hurt my face. “Don’t make me smile.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his arm tightening around me. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

“It wasn’t your fault. Not even Ryan De Luna can tell Mother Nature what to do.”

“Yeah, she and I would be having some words right now if I could.”

When we arrived at the medical center, I guessed that they’d been called and told to expect us, as none of the staff blinked an eye at our costumes.

The medic filled them in on what had happened, and they showed me to a room. I climbed into the bed, and a nurse came in to take my vitals. Another nurse put an oxygen mask on me. Ryan stood at my bedside, doing his best to both stay out of the way and be nearby.

The nurse who took my blood pressure and checked my temperature asked me questions about my medical history, like whether I’d had a reaction like this before. I moved the mask aside and told her I had, once, when I was eight. I always carried an Epi-Pen with me.

“The doctor will be in shortly,” the nurse said when I’d finished answering her questions. She closed the door shut behind her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had this allergy?” Ryan had pulled up a chair on the right side of my bed and held my hand.

“When was that supposed to come up in conversation? ‘Hi, I’m Maisy. I’m into music and long walks on the beach, and I’m allergic to bees’?”

“I don’t know, maybe when we started filming in a forest?”

He was right, but there was no way to explain myself. While onstage in outdoor arenas and stadiums, I kept an Epi-Pen in my guitar case. When I went out, it was in my purse. But I’d taken one look at Ryan in his knight getup, listened to him sing his beautiful song to me, and stared into his gorgeous eyes, and I didn’t think about bees even once.

“Did I ruin your video?”

“Screw the video.” Only he didn’t sayscrew. “They can make it out of what they have now. We were almost done anyway.”

“I guess the important thing is that it all worked out horribly.”

Ryan shook his head at me. There was a knock at a door, and a second later a harried-looking older doctor came into the room.

“I’m Dr.Martin. I understand you had a run-in with a bee and lost?” She put some antibacterial gel on her hands. Then she took out a penlight and looked in my ears and eyes and down my throat. “Isn’t it a little early for Halloween?”

I would have explained, but she was using a tongue depressor on me at the time. She checked out the sting site. Then she had me sit up, and she used her stethoscope to listen to my lungs. When she was finished, she went over and washed her hands. “Given that the swelling has gone down and you seem to be able to breathe and speak, I am going to have one of the nurses bring you a prescription-strength antihistamine, and then you should be on your way.”

Lauren came into the room carrying our clothes and belongings. “I have a car out front to take you back to Seattle whenever you’re ready. The medic can ride with you if you want.”

I was about to tell her that was unnecessary, but Ryan insisted he accompany us. I thanked Lauren for everything, and she left.

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