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I let out a sigh of relief when what I see on the screen confirms what I already knew. I had my period not even two weeks ago, so it’s not that.
The timer on the microwave beeps that my soup is done, but when I take a step toward it, I am almost doubled over in pain. It is so sharp and persistent now, it is taking my breath away.
I press both hands to my stomach and apply pressure, hoping it would help with the pain, but I am not getting much relief. I feel slightly nauseated at this point too, and I start panicking. This can’t be normal.
I’m not sure what to do. I don’t think I can walk to the nearest urgent care by the apartment, and driving in the city is nearly impossible. Besides, I don’t think I can drive the way I feel right now. I pick up my phone and decide to call Mattie.
“You okay?” she answers in way of greeting. I don’t ever call her when I know she is at work, and I appreciate the urgency with which she responds this one time when I need her help.
“I don’t think so, Matts,” my voice sounds weak and shaky. “I don’t feel well, I got these weird cramps, and I don’t think I can get to a doctor by myself…”
“Say no more,” she stops me from talking, and I am grateful because it’s taking everything out of me. She hangs up and I drop the phone to the floor. I can’t stand up straight, so I stretch my arm out and pull a chair closer so that I can sit.
The next ten minutes until Mattie makes it home are the longest ten minutes of my life.
“Oh my gosh,” in a flurry of movement, she runs in like the little human tornado she normally is. “Come on, I got us a cab waiting downstairs.”
I stand up slowly, feeling like I am a hundred years old. “Should I change?” I got a pair of black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt on.
“Fuck no, girl, are you crazy?” I would laugh at Mattie’s tone of voice if I didn’t feel as miserable as I’m feeling.
I let her support my weight when we start walking toward the doorway to leave.
“Let me grab your phone. Stay here,” she leans me against the wall and runs back to the kitchen. Where would I go anyway? I can barely walk. I hear her gasping in shock behind me, and it’s quite the effort to turn my body around to look at what got her riled up.
“You okay, Matts?”
“Oh my fucking god, Hunter,” her voice is high pitched. “You’re bleeding!”
“I’m what?”
“There’s blood all over that kitchen chair you sat on,” her eyes look like they’re about to pop out of her head. She rushes to look under the sink and grabs a large garbage bag, then picks up the blanket we always have on the back of the couch.
Good call.
CHAPTER 13
Don’t do this
Zach
“I don’t understand why we had to come all the way here just for me to see a doctor,” Grams huffs from next to me. “There are plenty of great doctors in Chicago, don’t you think? What do people who can’t travel like this do?” she continues her tirade without giving me the option to actually answer her questions.
Grams has been feeling tired lately, a lot more than she should be given that she seems to be in great health overall. My dad decided that she needed to see a doctor. That led to her being sent to see a heart specialist which led us to today. We are in New York, at one of the top hospitals in the country, waiting to see the best cardiologist on the east coast.
“Dad wants to make sure you’re getting a second opinion, Grams,” I explain to her for the hundredth time. “He was hoping to be here with you today, but an urgent meeting came up. I told him I’d come with you, so here we are.” I elbow her gently in the ribs and get an annoyed smile out of her.
“This is completely unnecessary. The other doctor said I only need a stent in my artery, maybe two. I could’ve been done with this by now, you know?” she huffs.
“Wouldn’t you rather know ahead of time if you need oneortwo? Take the guessing part out?” We’ve been having this exact conversation since yesterday when we flew in from O’Hare. I was hoping that a good night’s sleep in a posh hotel would calm her ass down a bit, but not my grams.
She doesn’t answer my question, and I sag in relief. This is a lot of work, like taking care of a little kid, I muse.
“Tell me again what happened with that girl,” her voice is softer now. I can feel her eyes on me, but I refuse to turn my head and make contact.
“What girl?” My heart starts slamming in my chest when an image of Hunter pops into my head. It’s been six weeks and three days on the nose since I last saw her in person. Since I felt her skin against mine. Since I kissed her pretty face.
“What girl,” Grams grumbles from next to me. “You know what girl, mister. Don’t play stupid games with me, Zachie. I will take you by the ear and drag you all the way home, I don’t care how old you are.”
