Page 36 of Fortunate Misfortune
“Good. You’re doing so well,” I say. “Take a deep breath and tell me three things you can hear.”
The breath is slow and rattles the table. “The clock clicking. Cars honking. Our breathing.”
“Two things you can smell.”
A sniff. “Sunscreen and disinfectant spray.”
“Last one and we’re done. One positive thing about yourself.”
Mallory’s face contorts, and it takes her longer to answer this question. Her chest rises and falls at a steady pace, the fingers of her free hand playing invisible piano keys on her stomach as she thinks.
“I’ve got a really nice ass.”
Laughter sputters between my pressed lips, surprising both of us. For a moment I’m able to forget what happened in the parking lot and enjoy our bubble of lunacy.
“True. Can you give me another one? Something real. Deep breath first.”
Mallory sucks in a deep breath, speaking through the exhale. “I may not be fun, but I know that someday, my hard work will pay off. That’s what I’m proud of.”
This answer kick-starts my heart in its place. Mallory has always known exactly who she is and what she wants to do with her life. Taking control of every situation and turning it into an opportunity for success.
But how can she believe she’s not fun? I don’t care what Jordan said. I have the most fun when I’m with her.
“You did great, Eddie. How are you feeling?”
“Better. Much better,” she says, releasing my hand to stretch her arms over her head. “What the hell was that?”
“A grounding method for anxiety and panic attacks. It can help bring a person back to reality and pull them out of their head.”
Her smile is weak. “Where’d you learn it?”
“Counseling,” I admit.
“You see a therapist?”
“Since I was twelve. Recently, I’ve been skipping appointments with my sports psych though, so….” I give her a moment to take in somethingthat few people know about me. When I find no judgment, I push on. “If we’re asking hard questions, how often do you have anxiety attacks?”
“Sometimes.”
“How often is that?”
“Gray,” she says, her voice sharp. “Stop. I’m fine. It’s fine.”
“Nothing about this is fine,” I counter. “Thinking about you dealing with this on your own for god knows how long scares me, Ed. Especially because you haven’t been able to find something that helps you through them.”
Mallory’s motto has always been to suck it up and push through. Headache? Push through it. Three tests in one day and running on no sleep? Push through it. Sick as a dog, but it’s competition season? Push through it.
Sometimes people need something stronger than that.
She flips onto her side and faces the wall to end our conversation. Since her hair is bunched at the top of her head, taking away her ability to hide in it, she’s done the next best thing.
I should stop talking, and I will. After I make her smile.
“For someone who feels your emotions so strongly, you sure do hate talking about them. What’s up with that?”
“Me? Feelings?Pshh. Never.” I hear the unmistakable hint of a smile in her voice. “Talking about them isn’t fun. Never has been.”
“It’s not an easy thing, so thank you for telling me.”
