Back to Reality (21 page)

“There are three things that I want to ask you about and they are kind of huge and I want you to say yes but no pressure,” Emily started apprehensively.

“I’m not going to lie, that just made me nervous,” I joked as I got comfortable in the bed.

Emily laugh was forced. “Don’t be nervous. Just keep an open mind.”

My stomach sank. “What’s going on Em?”

“
Well I found my dress! It’s a black silk and organza Vera Wang mermaid gown. It. Is. Perfection,” Emily squealed.

“It sounds beautiful! Send me a picture.” I relaxed a little
as I climbed out of bed to find my laptop.  It was on the coffee table in the living room so I set up shop there.

“Already sent. Now here comes what I need to talk to you about.
I know what dress I want you to wear. It’s a form fitting knee length color blocked dress. The top is white satin and the bottom is black satin. It looks like a sexy tuxedo.”

I laughed, “Sounds good. Why do you sound so sketched out about it?”

“Well… I haven’t been able to find it anywhere. So it’ll have to get made. And I talked with a designer and it’ll cost almost $1000.  And I know you aren’t hurting for cash or anything, but that’s $1000 for one dress.”

“Are you serious
Em? You’re giving me an anxiety attack over a dress?! Of course I’ll pay whatever I need to pay in order for you to have your perfect day.”

Exhaling loudly into the receiver, Emily shrieked again. “Oh my God! Sa
hara, you are amazing! I know $1000 is a lot for a bridesmaid dress but I promise you’ll be able to wear it again and again.  It’s going to be fabulous. Promise!”

“I believe you and it is not a problem at all. I’d do anything for you girl! Now what’s the second and third thing you wanted to talk to me about?” I logged into my email account and Emily’s email was the only one in my inbox.
Granted, she is the only person who has my personal email address
, I thought as I clicked on the attachment.  A beautiful black gown that was both classy and sexy popped onto my screen. “Oh Emily… this is beautiful. You are going to be the most beautiful bride anyone has ever seen.”

             
“Thank you! And I changed my mind about the theme. Instead of winter wonderland, I am going with Phantom of the Opera.  I want it dramatic and I’m having it at The Smoke Room. Depending on the weather, I might utilize the roof top. It’s going to be incredible.”

             
“Sounds like it!”

             
“So the second thing is that I’m going to need my best friend to help get everything prepared so I wanted to know if instead of you coming down on December 27
th
, would you be able to come a couple days earlier?”

             
“Like on December 25
th
?” I asked slowly.

             
“Yes. Please,” Emily begged.

             
I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to say yes but nothing came out. I wanted to say yes. I wanted to be there for her.
But I’m scared,
I thought as I closed my mouth and let the silence settle over the phone.
I don’t celebrate the holidays with anyone anymore. Dad and I would spend Christmas Eve together just the two of us and then on Christmas Day, we’d have dinner with the Mills family,
I reminisced.
So since Dad died, I’ve always spent Christmas alone. I don’t know if I’m ready to change that now.

             
“Sahara?”

             
I cleared my throat. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

             
“Will you think about it?”

             
“Yes. I’ll think about it.” I shut down my laptop and curled my feet under me.  “Now you had one more thing I believe?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

             
“Yes, the last thing is…,” she paused nervously, causing me to tense up.
If going to Thomasville for Christmas was her second request, I can’t imagine what this is going to be,
I thought, fearing the worst. “I want you to sing at the reception. For our first dance.”

             
“I’d love to!” I exclaimed, feeling the tension being chased away from my body by excitement. “It would be an honor! Do you know what song?”

             
“I believe so but I need to finalize it before I let you guys know. They’re all songs you know though.”

             
“Sounds good, Em. I can’t wait!” I enthused with genuine excitement.

             
“Good! There’s just one tiny thing...”

             
“What’s that?”

             
She cleared her throat before she said, “You’ll be singing with Manny.”

Chapter 22
   

             
Sucking in a deep breath of air, I startled awake violently. I thrashed around as if I were drowning, kicking the comforter off of my body.  When I opened my eyes, I was suddenly overcome with dizziness.   My heart pounded in my chest and a thin layer of sweat coated my skin. My mouth was dry and my head throbbed.  Loud, rasping cries escaped my lips and I choked on my tears. When the realization of being at home in bed settled in, I tried to calm myself but I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs.  Remembering what Dr. Summers said, I didn’t fight it. I let myself fall into the panic attack.

             
I haven’t had that dream since I started therapy,
I thought as the majority of the symptoms of my attack subsided. 
What could’ve made it resurface?
  Looking at the clock, I pulled myself out of bed and made my way to the living room.  Rubbing my eyes, I opened the laptop.  When the internet search box popped up, I typed in Emanuel Mills and hesitated to hit the search button. 

Ty called when he was pulling into his parking space at Jimmy’s. He called again when he made it back to Libby Lofts. 
But I hadn’t spoken to Emanuel since Emily’s driveway.  I avoided his calls and I deleted his voicemails until he just stopped calling altogether, but I needed to know that he’s alright. The last time I had that nightmare was right after Ty’s accident.  For weeks, I woke up in my new apartment shattered and fatigued from the panic attacks.  Every night I would go through the nightmarish scenario, watching them die right in front of me.  Every day I would relive the real-life scenario of almost losing them in car accidents.  Fortunately, soon after therapy started, the nightmares stopped.  The fact that the nightmare had returned made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Ple
ase, please God, let Emanuel be okay. I can’t take it if anything was wrong,
I prayed as I clicked search. If I was being completely honest with myself, I also prayed I didn’t see a wedding announcement or a birth announcement or anything linking him to Ashlyn. It had only been a couple of weeks and I didn’t think it was likely, but I was irrational with worry, fear, and love.

When my internet search
turned up nothing, I felt relieved but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. I decided to take a long, hot bath to relax my nerves.  After getting dressed for the day, it was still before 9am. The exhibit I had tickets for didn’t open until 10am so I decided to go to brunch at Fifth Street Café.  The trendy restaurant near the museum served brunch and after deciding on my plans, my stomach growled with inexplicable hunger.

The walk to
Fifth Street Café took thirty minutes. With my earbuds in, I used the solitude of the walk to try to clear my mind.  Since it was a beautiful fall morning, once I arrived, I decided to sit on the front patio of the café. It was completely empty, just the way I liked it.  After ordering chicken and waffles, I sipped my French Vanilla latte and watched the people moving about the downtown area. The uneasy feeling continued to plague me as I waited for my food. 
Maybe I should text Emily just to be sure,
I thought as I picked up my phone.

Sahara Lee: Good morning… How is everything down there?

Emily Mills: Good morning! Everything is good. Just sitting at my office in the studio. Waiting for dad to get back with his tools. Again.

Sahara Lee: What’s your dad helping with this time?

Emily Mills: What isn’t he helping with?! He has busied himself with all types of projects recently. Unfortunately, all of the projects are here. I love him but I need a break!

Sahara Lee: LOL! He’s just trying to help!

Emily Mills: Yeah, but I have things to do!!!!!!!!

Emily Mills: What are you up to?

Sahara Lee: At brunch. Something has been bothering me…

Emily Mills: Is it about the duet?

Sahara Lee: I told you last night, anything you want me to do for your wedding, I’m willing to do.

Emily Mills: Well if it’s not that, what’s wrong?

Sahara Lee: The nightmares are back. And I had a panic attack.

Emily Mills: Why? What’s going
on? I thought the nightmares stopped after you started therapy.

Sahara Lee: They did. I haven’t had one since I started. It’s been weeks
. But last night, it happened and it was bad. One of the worst ones I’ve ever had. And I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

Sahara Lee: Have you talked to Emanuel?

Emily Mills: Yeah. Dad talked him into coming here to help so he’s going to pick him up after he gets his tools. I didn’t want to say anything because I know it’s still a sensitive subject.

Sahara Lee: I appreciate that. Is he okay?

Emily Mills: It depends on what you mean by okay…

Sahara Lee:
What do you mean?

Emily Mills: He’s going through a lot. He just
got back yesterday from hiking th
e
Appalachian Trail for a week. He went completely off the grid.

Sahara Lee: Oh wow.

Emily Mills: Yeah…

Sahara Lee: I’m going to call you later. My food is here.

Emily Mills: I only told you because you asked. Don’t freak out.

Sahara Lee: I’m
not freaking out. I’m fine. Call me tonight!

Emily Mills: I’ll call you as soon as they leave the studio.
You sure you’re okay?

Sahara Lee: I’m fine.

             
But I wasn’t fine. I was far from it. The uneasy feeling settled into the pit of my stomach and made it turn.  The food that sat before me no longer was appetizing as I reached around the hot plate for my water glass.  Sipping the cool water managed to cool me down. As I chewed on a piece of ice, I thought about the nightmare.
Where did it come from?
I wondered as I chewed another piece of ice.
I talked to Ty last night so I know he’s safe. And now I know that Emanuel is safe.  He went off the grid for a while but he’s been through a lot. He just found out he was going to be a father. That’s a lot to digest. He’s going through a lot but he’s safe. They are both safe. So why do I feel like this? What is about to go wrong?
I wondered as I chomped down on the ice hard and swallowed.  The jagged edges of the ice scraped my throat, but I barely noticed. Although the nagging feeling that something bad was about to happen still made my hair stand on end, I felt more in control than I’d ever felt.

             
“May I ask why you are grimacing when you have on that beautiful green dress?” Dr. Summers’ pleasant voice shook me out of my dark thoughts.

             
Whipping my head to the right, I saw Dr. Summers’ smiling face and I instantly felt embarrassed.
I just told her I chose Ty and here I am the very next day thinking about Emanuel. I need to get it together,
I thought as I stood, smoothing out my printed Nanette Lepore dress.  I reached out to shake her hand and she enveloped me into a hug. Startled, I tensed a bit before hugging her back stiffly.

             
“You looked like you needed it,” she winked. Her pale skin looked almost luminescent in the morning sun. She wore a yellow flowing dress and a pair of purple and yellow ballet slippers.  Although her color combo was questionable, she pulled it off.  She looked as happy as the yellow she wore. “How are you Sahara?”

             
“I’m fine. How are you Dr. Summers? You look well,” I countered, giving her my most upbeat smile.

             
“Sahara…” she sighed before giving me a disapproving stare. With her voice lowered, she whispered, “I’ve been doing what I do for a long time.  I know what fine looks like. I also know what deflection looks like.”

             
She was absolutely right and I couldn’t do anything but nod.  “I suppose you’re right.”

             
“Of course I am,” Dr. Summers said in a comforting tone. She gestured to my chair. “Have a seat; don’t let me disrupt your meal. I just saw you sitting on the balcony and I wanted to say hello. You looked upset.”

             
“Are you here alone?” I asked, changing the subject yet again. I sat down in my chair and gestured to the chair on the opposite side of the table.

             
Dr. Summers stared at me long and hard.  Our silence was masked by the busy sounds of city life. Looking in her eyes, I knew she knew I wasn’t okay. I knew she knew I was deflecting.
She knows me too well,
I realized as I smiled at her.

Smiling knowingly, Dr. Summers sat down at the table. 
“No. I’m waiting for my husband.  A friend gave us tickets to an event for our anniversary.  We were supposed to meet here for breakfast but he is running a bit behind.  He got held up at the office so I ordered some fresh muffins and coffee to go.”

             
I took a sip of water and nodded at my off duty therapist.  She looked so happy and free.
Will that ever be me? Will I ever be free of the damage that I cause others?
I wondered as I rubbed the condensation from my water glass between my fingers and avoided eye contact with Dr. Summers.

             
“Here you are ma’am,” the waiter said with a white paper bag and a large coffee in hand.  Dr. Summers thanked him as she stood to retrieve her items from him. 

When the waiter walked away, Dr. Summers turned to me. She patted my shoulder with her free hand and said
warmly, “See you soon, Sahara.”

“Yes. Have a good day,” I responded.
Well that was interesting,
I thought as I sank back in my chair and watched her walk away.

Taking a deep breath, I
took a bite of my cold waffle.  The buttery goodness of the waffle danced over my taste buds and landed with a thud in the pit of my stomach.
I can’t eat right now. Something is wrong. I know it,
I thought as I pushed the plate away from me.

Looki
ng at my phone, I reread old text messages. I had deleted text messages from Emanuel as I received them, leaving only messages from the three people with my number: Emily, Ty, and Ben. I hadn’t really talked to Ben since the incident with his father.  He had called and texted, but I was so overwhelmed with making up with Ty to entertain the Sullivan family drama.

Maybe I should call Ben now
,
I thought trying to take a minute to steer my thoughts away from what could be wrong with Ty or Emanuel.  After receiving the check, I left the money for my meal on the table.  As soon as I walked out of Fifth Street Café, I called Ben.

Picking up on the first ring, Ben answered, “Sahara!” His voice sounded both surprised and relieved.

“Hi, Ben. How are you?” I asked nonchalantly. Taking my time, I walked in the direction of the museum.

“Very well, thank you,” Ben snapped with sarcasm. “You’
re the one that’s been missing. Where the bloody hell have you been?”

“I’ve had a lot going on. We should talk. What are you doing today?”

“I’m free late this afternoon. Does 4 or 5 work?”

“Yes that’s fine.”

“I’ll meet you at One38.”

“Okay, see you then,” I
concluded the conversation.  I put my phone in my handbag and rotated my head in a circle. The lack of sleep was catching up to me as I waited to cross the street.

Walking into the cold museum, I cursed myself for not bringing the sweater I looked at before walking out of my closet.
I showed my ticket to the young girl at the kiosk located directly in front of the main entryway. Pointing me to the elevator, I quickly made it to the 3
rd
floor where the special exhibition was being showcased.  Handing my ticket to a man with a nametag that said Matthew, I walked to a bench in front of a random painting.  It was a black canvas with a bunch of small red and white pictures that created the shape of a heart.  Cocking my head to the side, I couldn’t decide if I liked it or not. 
It’s simple…and maybe even a bit commonplace. But something seems off,
I thought, studying the piece..

“
Hi, I’m Matthew,” the man who took my ticket when I walked in. “There’s quite a few of us around so there’s no need for you to have to wait for the tour.”  Matthew had brassy brown hair that was the color of copper.  He had a ruddy complexion and bright, blue eyes that were striking. 
Easily his best feature,
I thought as I looked up at him.

Standing, I reached my hand out to shake his before saying, “Hi Matthew, I’m Sahara. Yes,
I would love to begin my tour.” 
I’m ready to let the beauty of the art get me out of my own head,
I thought as I followed him to the beginning of the tour. 

The artist, simply known as Willow, had garnered a lot of attention on the East Coast due to the skill and
storytelling ability of her work.  As Matthew and I made our way through the exhibit, I felt the unease and jitters of the nightmare slowly fading away.  The exhibit, entitled Strength, showcased various people creatively exhibiting strength. The way in which each of the pieces was executed was mesmerizing. I listened to Matthew explain each piece in detail as I allowed myself to get caught up in the unadulterated talent of Willow. I was so captivated by the exhibit; I didn’t realize Matthew and I were joined by another group.