Page 41 of Grinch Girl

Suddenly, I was entirely ready to pick up where we’d left off earlier. With kissing. Lots and lots and lots of kissing.

I took a step toward him. My determination must have been all over my face because the grin on his face transitioned into something more serious and intense. He reached out with both hands, and—

Behind me, Bruce let out a horribly familiar sound of distress, and then I heard a soft plop as he fell onto his side.

“Oh shit!” I exclaimed, whirling around, Nate forgotten. “Oh no! Oh, Bru!”

On his side, Bruce twitched into a full-body seizure. His jaw was locked, and I could hear his teeth clanging together as he shook, the terrified and tortured breathing from his nostrils. Acrid foam appeared on his mouth, the metallic scent filling the air of the small room.

“What do we do?” Nate asked quietly, snapping me out of my frozen anguish.

I blinked and jumped into action. “Watch him! Time how long it lasts if you can. I’ve got to—” I dashed into the kitchenette. I pulled his anti-convulsant pills from the cabinet and a carton of vanilla ice cream from the fridge.

With shaking hands, I chopped the pills into small pieces and shoved them into a bowl of ice cream.

“He’s coming out of it,” Nate called. “Just over a minute, it was.”

“OK, my baby,” I crooned, rushing back in with the bowl of ice cream and pills.

Bruce was struggling to get to his feet. When he did, he walked in confused circles, and I gently tried to guide him to the bowl. “He’s blind when he gets out of a seizure,” I whispered. Bruce found the bowl with his nose and took a tentative lick. The licks became faster. I watched like a hawk to make sure he got a few of the pill pieces as well.

“Can you grab his water bowl?” I asked. “And the bowl of soft food? Not the kibble, the soft food. The seizures take a lot out of him, and he’s very hungry and thirsty right after. His jaw is too sore to chew anything hard.” Nate nodded and left for the kitchen, reappearing in ten seconds with both bowls.

Bruce began to pace around the apartment, bumping into the couch and kitchen table legs, although I tried to put myself between his body and obstacles. “He’s disoriented and upset right after,” I said helplessly.

Nate got down on the floor and stroked Bruce, speaking gently. “Well, of course he is.” Bruce leaned into his petting. He must have found the combination of Nate’s deep voice and stroking hands comforting. “Poor lad. There now.”

I examined the ice cream bowl critically. It looked like he’d ingested about one whole pill, and I needed him to take at least two more. One seizure was upsetting and a nightmare to watch, but it wouldn’t be harmful long term. But if Bruce had a cluster-seizure event in which they kept coming and couldn’t stop, that was very dangerous. I’d have to take him to the vet ER—which was thirty miles from here.

“Can you hold him still?” I asked, too worried to be embarrassed by the tears in my voice. “He hates this, but I have to shove a couple of pills down his throat.”

The only other people who’d been around during a Bruce seizure before were my mom and Sean. They’d both been so traumatized by the experience that they couldn’t help. Kelly had fled sobbing to the bathroom, and Sean had turned so white-faced and shaky, I thought I’d have to take him to the ER too. I’d ended up squeezing poor Bru between my knees to give him the medicine.

“Of course,” Nate said, no-nonsense. On his knees, he braced Bruce in his arms, both gentle and strong. “We’re ready for you.”

I pried open Bruce’s sore jaw and put two pills at the back of his tongue, held his mouth closed and stroked his neck until I felt him swallow. “I’m so sorry, buddy,” I murmured.

Nate released his hold but kept petting him. Kept soothing him. “All right now,” he whispered. “You’re all right now.”

*

I woke onmy couch around six a.m., feeling massively hungover. I hadn’t overindulged in alcohol, but the whole scene with Bruce combined with my overarching exhaustion brought me to a mini-breakdown before bed. I’d treated myself to an extremely rare purging of emotions. The sobbing exorcism took more out of me than just tears and snot. Right now, I had a throbbing headache and scratchy eyeballs.

At least Bruce was doing much better. He was sleeping one foot away from me, between the couch and the coffee table. I could see his breath rising and falling in his soft, furry chest. After the seizure and his hours of manic circular walking in the middle of the night, he’d sleep most of today.

“Poor baby.” I stroked his sleeping body. “Not quite how you planned to spend your Friday night, was it?”

Not how I’d planned to spend mine either. Instead of that sweaty, naked, moaning tableau I’d spent much of yesterday daydreaming about, Nate had guided unsteady Bruce safely around the apartment for almost an hour as I’d cleaned thecarpet so it didn’t smell like that awful metallic foam or the small bit of urine Bruce had released during the seizure.

When it was time for Nate to leave, I didn’t even get close to him, even though he deserved the world’s biggest, most grateful bear hug. But I didn’t want him to smell what I’d been cleaning and associate those scents with me for the rest of his life. “Does he need eyes on him for the rest of the night? We could take turns sleeping,” he’d said, worry creasing his forehead. “I can stay.”

His earnest offer made my chest ache. The dude had come over for a booty call and ended up smack in the middle of a canine health emergency, complete with near-hysterical, weepy woman owner.

“We’re fine,” I said firmly. I was unable to salvage the night, but maybe I could still salvage my dignity. “I’ll sleep right next to him, just in case. We’ve been down this road before, and I can tell he’s through the worst of it for now.” I ushered him to the door swiftly and without meeting his eyes. Like he was an anonymous plumber who’d just unclogged a drain. “Thank you so much. Have a good rest of your night.”

Now, I pushed myself to a careful sitting position, wincing at the pinch in my neck. I pulled up my calendar and looked at my schedule for the day. Two Geek Squad appointments before ten this morning, minding the shop for eight hours, and then a bartending shift at the resort this evening. I’d reschedule the appointments. I didn’t want to leave Bruce alone. He hadn’t seized again during the night, but sometimes the aftershocks came twelve hours later, depending on how his body had processed the pills, how much rest, food, and water he’d gotten, and how anxious he was feeling.

He could hang out at the shop with me today. He loved chilling on the dog bed behind the register, sniffing at shoppers. If he had a normal-ish day, I’d feel ninety-nine percent confidentthat another seizure wouldn’t occur. If that was the case, I’d check to see if Sean was free tonight and ask him to sit with Bruce while I went on my shift.

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