It’s Jake!
“Ha! We do have telekinesis.”
“What?”
“Nothing. What’s up?” I realize I’m practically skipping down the sidewalk now. That’s what the sound of Jake’s voice does to me: turns me into a skipper.
“I was just calling to see if you have plans tomorrow night. And before you say anything, I know I’m supposed to wait 48 hours before asking you out on a second date, but this is Sam’s fault. She wants you to come over and watch a movie with us. It has nothing to do with me wanting to spend more time with you.”
I stop skipping and groan because now I’m doubly upset that my mama has manipulated me into going to dinner. “I wish I could, but I have dinner plans tomorrow night.”
“Oh. A hot date?” he asks in a playful tone, but I can tell he’s only half joking. My heart swells a little that he’s jealous of me going on a date with another man.
“Far from it. I’m being forced to go to a dinner party at my parents’ house because they are evil overlords who have too much money.”
“Gotcha. Okay, so do you want some company then? I can have June come stay with Sam.” He’s offering to go with me? I didn’t even really give him a valid reason, and he’s willing to go with me anyway?
“It’s going to be torture.”
“Will you be there?”
I laugh. “Yeah.”
“Then it’ll be worth it.”
Yep. I’m a goner. I am no match for this man. He makes me feel wanted and valued in a way that I didn’t even know existed. As scary as it is, I’m starting to picture a future with Jake. One where, after forty years of marriage, he still pinches my butt in the kitchen.
Charlie looks up and sees my dreamy expression and shakes his head at me. I think he really is getting jealous now.
“All right then, yes. I’d love for you to come with me.”
We continue to talk for my whole walk home, and before I know it, I’m lying on my couch and twirling my hair around my finger while Jake tells me about his d
ay. Yes, he’s made me a hair twirler too. Don’t worry, I’m fully aware of how annoying I am to be around now.
Finally, he asks for details about what he should wear tomorrow night and what time we need to be leaving my house to get to my parents’ place. I tell him 6:30, to which he replies, “Great. I’ll be there at 6:15 so I can mess up your lipstick a little before we go.”
I’m having so much fun in this flirty bubble with Jake that, at first, I don’t even realize that Charlie has suddenly stood up and come to sit in front of me, staring. It’s not a normal stare. It’s a direct look that he only ever uses when he needs my attention most. My chuckle dies out, and dread takes its place. I know this look. I’ve seen it many times.
“Hang on, Jake,” I say, and I think he can hear the worry in my voice, because he starts asking if everything is okay. I ignore him and focus on Charlie who is now whining, and I know it’s not because he needs to go potty.
Annoyed that I’m not acting on his signals, Charlie takes his alerting to the next level. He takes the hem of my dress into his mouth and starts tugging me. I blow out a breath through my mouth, because now I’m certain that Charlie is alerting me of an oncoming seizure.
I know what he’s telling me to do. “All right, buddy, I’m coming,” I say to Charlie, and I follow our usual procedure and get down on a clear spot on the floor. I probably could lie on the couch or my bed, but I’m always worried that I’ll convulse myself out of the bed and hit my head on the floor. Living on my own, I like to be more careful than necessary when it comes to my seizures. So, I lie on my back and take a deep breath. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve gone through this, though, it never gets less scary.
“Jake.”
“What’s wrong, Evie?”
“Charlie just alerted me. I’m going to have a seizure.” My voice shakes even though I’m trying so hard to put on a brave face. I’m going to be okay. Charlie will watch out for me. Once I lose consciousness and begin convulsing, I know that Charlie will move me onto my side to keep me safe. He’ll go push the button on the wall that calls Jo and then come back to stay with me and lick my face to bring me back into consciousness faster. Even now, he’s going to the fridge and using the tug rope to pull it open and retrieve a water bottle for me for after the seizure.
When Jake speaks, he sounds as heavy as I feel. “How long do you think until it starts?”
“He always alerts me ten to thirty minutes before an episode.”
“Okay.” I hear him rustling papers around frantically. “I’m on my way from the office, so it won’t take me long to get there.”
“What?!” I start to sit up, but Charlie doesn’t like it and tugs me back down. I comply. “Jake, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be all right. I’ll call you later, once everything passes.”