Page 50 of Of Poison & Pumpkins
When Tinsley stays quiet for too long, I turn to face her. The look on her face is not something I’ve had to interpret before.
“You like him. So much.” She tries not to smile.
“Nope.” I crack my knuckles. “So, has Palooza been this empty the whole time I was gone?” I ask.
She cringes.
“Crap. Well maybe it’s good timing because I need you to help me find a raven’s nest. One that might have holly berries inside.”
Her lips make her typical thinking expression, like she’s calculating the sum of ‘what do you get when you multiply three clocks by fifteen cappuccinos?’
“I have a couple of ideas,” she says seriously. “I’ll go tomorrow, but you need to watch Maya because she would slow me down on a hike.”
“That’s fine. Text me when to pick her up.”
“Oh! I almost forgot. I think your ex has been sleeping in the back alley. At least, I’m pretty sure it’s Parker, or is it Porter?”
“Damn it! Now I have to deal with that, too.”
“What are we swearing about, ladies?” Elias crosses his arms and leans on the counter next to me.
The proximity sends sparks up my body. Why did Porter never create this reaction in me? It’s so raw, so natural, almost animalistic the way my body wants Elias. It’s as if biology has won this round and I’m at its mercy to play by her rules.
“Bet you can’t guess what’s in the box? Did you know that the length of a couple’s longevity together can be determined by how well they assemble a piece of furniture?”
“No, Elias. Do tell me more,” Tinz says.
“Research shows that the percentage of steps a couple can accomplish in a furniture assembly without arguing predicts the number of years of happiness and pure bliss they will have together.” He twists towards me faster than a rabbit on an energy drink. “Wanna help me put together this bookshelf later, Sunflower?”
The tiny, barely audible gasp that pops from Tinsley’s lips proves she wasn’t aware of his nickname for me. I may have more explaining to do. I scoot across the counter until I’m behind the register’s computer and regrettably update our website’s home page with a notification of ‘Closed Until Further Notice.’ There’s no chance I’ll win the prize now. At this point, the best I can hope for is to not be arrested. I can’t spend a lifetime behind bars.
Suddenly, my hearing fades out and I get tunnel vision. Hot and cold flashes overtake my body. My head spins, and I gasp to catch my breath as a clamp latches onto my chest so tightly, I double over. It feels like my heart is being squeezed. Strange sounds reach me through the pounding in my ears, but I can’t look at the source because I’m sliding down to the floor. Accepting the inability to function, I curl into a ball.
“Woah, Rynnlee? Rynnlee!” Elias’s voice hits me, but it sounds like he’s underwater, fuzzy and far away. “Rynnlee, babe, look at me. Right here. That’s right. Good girl. I’m right here, look at my eyes.”
Everything sounds muffled. Just breathe. Keep breathing.
“I think … panic attack?”
“ … happened before?”
“ … once … family …”
“Okay, I’ve got you. That’s right, lean on me and let’s breathe together. Good. In. Good. And out ... in … and out. One more time.”
Something cold is held to my lips. Neck tilts back. Water in my mouth. Water on my tongue. Water down my throat. I don’t take my eyes off Elias’s the entire time. His look of concern is the last thing I need. Wish he’d leave, but Elias isn’t the type to abandon ship. So, I stay, wrapped in his comfort.
Minutes or hours pass of him holding me in his strong arms on the floor, slightly swaying me like a hammock in the autumn breeze. Not once does he pressure me to stand or move.
“Elias?”
“Sunflower?”
“My leg is asleep.”
He repositions us so my back is resting against his chest, my ass in his lap. I can’t help but place my hands on his legs.
“Better?” he asks, no judgment in his voice.
