Animal Attraction

by Kathryn Halberg

  “You don’t need to get that?” he asked.

  Looking between him and the phone, she finally rose and checked the screen: Call me, please.

  “It’s my sister.” Rachael stared at the screen, puzzled. Carlie knew she was seeing Rick tonight. Sighing, she glanced back at him on her way to the deck. “Be right back.”

  Her sister answered almost before it rang.

  “Rachael?” A staggered gasp and crying filled her ear.

  “Car? Are you okay?”

  She sniffed, and Rachael heard her fast, panicked breath.

  “Where are you? What’s happening?”

  Rick joined her on the patio, his concern evident.

  “Can you—” Her sister choked on a sob. Rachael struggled to contain herself, forced herself to not push Carlie. “Can you come get me? The park—the shelter house.”

  “On my way. Stay there!”

  She hung up and turned to Rick. He nodded and returned to the kitchen, turning off the oven. “Shall I drive?”

  She hugged him and they ran out to the car. “The park off of Main.”

  He nodded and drove off. She fidgeted in her seat, wondering what happened, kicking herself. God, what if she hadn’t checked the phone? If Rick hadn’t encouraged her to get it?

  “Please be okay, CarCar,” she whispered to the passing lawns, a knot tightening in her stomach.

  31

  They spun into the park and Rick pulled up to the curb. She was out the door before he stopped, skirt flying in the wind as she searched for her little sister.

  “Carlie?”

  Her slender form was sitting alone at the table, shaking and overcome by a terror-filled panic attack. Okay. Rachael could deal with this. She wrapped her arms around her sister, who was cold and shaking, pushing away from Rachael.

  “Listen to me, Carlie. Listen to my voice. Close your eyes. Put your feet flat on the ground. Feel the ground beneath your feet.”

  Carlie struggled against her, but Rachael wrestled her down to the lower bench of the table. Rick paced by the car, clearly unsure of what to do. She waved for him to stay there. He nodded and leaned back against his car.

  “Deep breath. Hold it. Exhale. In and out. Focus on your breathing.”

  She slowly started to calm down, and Rachael stayed by her side, stroking her hair, talking soothingly.

  “Focus on what you can control. Deep breath. In . . . and out.”

  She walked her sister through the attack as they used to do, so many years ago. Rachael wondered what happened to set her off. This hadn’t happened in a long time.

  Carlie took a long, shuddering breath and leaned heavily against Rachael. The shaking eventually subsided and fatigue set in.

  “You’re okay, stink bug. I’ve got you.” She reverted to her childhood nickname for Carlie, hating the helpless feeling her attacks stirred in all of them. She caught Rick’s attention, motioning for him to come help.

  Exhausted, she hardly noticed when Rick joined them. “We’re going to help you to the car. We’re going to take you home,” Rachael murmured.

  “I can’t go home,” Carlie said despondently. “Not home. Anywhere but home.”

  “All right, honey. We’ll go to Mom and Dad’s, okay?”

  Rachael struggled to support the weight of her taller, younger sister as they stumbled along the path to the lot. She tripped, nearly knocking them all to the ground. Rick took over and picked Carlie up, carrying her the rest of the way.

  Carlie mumbled something as they settled her into the back seat, and Rachael couldn’t make it out. Something about Brent.

  “Do you want me to call Brent? Is that what you want?”

  Carlie sat up in a panic, grasping Rachael’s shoulder painfully. “No! No!” she shrieked. “You can’t do that!”

  “Shh! Carlie, it’s okay. I won’t call him.” Rachael pried Carlie’s fingers off her shoulder and squeezed her hand tightly, wondering what was going on. “I won’t call him,” she repeated.

  Carlie sat back, still mumbling. Placing Carlie’s hand in her lap, Rachael closed the door and took a deep breath. Rick stood beside her, uncertainty and worry lining his face.

  She walked him around to his side of the car. “She’ll be fine. I just need to get her home.”

  He nodded without question and drove them to her parents’ house.

  Once there, he didn’t ask any questions as he opened Carlie’s door and carried her inside. Olive and Martini were dancing around the living room, and Rick gently set her on the sofa.

  “I’m going to go take care of the kitchen,” he murmured. Rachael squeezed his hand, grateful for his understanding.

  Grabbing a blanket from the closet, Rachael tucked it around Carlie and watched her pale face. She was sitting numbly, not paying attention to anything around her.

  “Carlie?”

  Her dead eyes stared through Rachael, who shivered at her cold blankness. Whatever had happened was major. This was worse than she could recall in the past. Rachael wondered if she should call the doctor. Glancing at the time, she realized the doctor’s office was closed. Besides, Carlie would hate her for it.

  Not knowing what else to do, she sat down and hugged Carlie to her. Rachael resumed stroking her hair rhythmically, waiting for the warmth to return, her breathing to steady. Eventually a little color returned to Carlie’s cheeks. Her weariness was evident, but she was relieved her sister was returning.

  “Want to talk about it?” Rachael asked softly.

  Eyes tightly closed, Carlie hung her head and shook it slowly.

  “Can you at least tell me what happened? What triggered this attack?”

  A tear ran down her cheek. “I walked in on them,” she whispered faintly.

  No. No, no, no.

  “Who?” She knew what was coming, but prayed she was wrong.

  “Brent and Gina.”

  * * *

  The front door slamming signaled Kim’s arrival. “Where is she?”

  Rachael pointed to the living room. Kim ran to her best friend. Her sister. They clung to each other tightly and cried together, mumbling and speaking the language the two of them had always shared.

  Taking advantage of the moment, Rachael slipped through the living room and continued into the kitchen. Rick sat at the table, his phone in his hands.

  “What happened?”

  Shaking her head, the angry tears started falling. “That son of a bitch!”

  He stood and wrapped her in his embrace, patiently waiting.

  She shook her head again. “Carlie’s boyfriend. She walked in on him in bed with one of her friends.”

  “Christ. I am so sorry, baby,” he said, holding her as she cried tears of anger and frustration. “What can I do?” he murmured in her ear, sweeping her hair back from her face.

  “I don’t know. I have to figure out what she needs. What she wants to do.”

  “I’ll leave. You need to be with them.”

  “I don’t want you to go, but you’re probably right.”

  “If you want me, if you need anything at all, just call or text and I’ll be here.”

  Another tear ran down her face. “You’re amazing, Richard Thomas.”

  He returned the smile and wiped her tears away. “So are you, Rachael Eller.”

  He collected his wallet and keys and she walked him out to his car. “Sorry to have to cut the evening short. Dinner was delicious.”

  “You should have seen the dessert,” he said with a devilish smile.

  “Rain check?”

  “Yours, anytime.”

  He opened his car door, then shut it and turned back.

  “Rachael?”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  He ran his hand through his hair nervously. “I know this is terrible timing, with your sister and all, but . . .”

  Pulling Rachael against himself, he kissed her hungrily, his hand sliding up her jaw and into her hair. Rick moved his lips against hers and she opened to h
im. He tilted her head back and angled deeper into the kiss, fire forging a blazing path through her.

  Groaning, he stepped back and she stumbled forward against him. He chuckled and caught her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

  “I wish I had stayed upstairs with you earlier,” he whispered regretfully into her hair, breathing in her scent and rubbing her arms.

  “Me too.” Rachael wished they had more time, but he was right. She needed to be with Carlie.

  He exhaled, then tilted her face up to his. “I am not done with you. I don’t know that I will ever be ready to let you go.”

  Rachael smiled warmly up at him. “That’s good.”

  He leaned down and kissed her gently before turning back to his car. “I’ll be back. Go take care of your sister.”

  Watching his receding taillights, the words surfaced to her lips, unable to be kept inside any longer. “I love you,” she whispered to the darkness.

  32

  Hours of crying, screaming, laughing, and silence followed. Rachael and Kim took turns sitting with Carlie, trying to provide comfort in any way they could.

  Carlie held herself together better than many would in her situation. It was as though she concentrated the misery in the panic attack.

  “Is it wrong that I want to go hunt down his sorry ass and string him up by the balls?” Kim muttered, twisting her hands over each other in the air as she followed Rachael into the kitchen.

  “Not at all. I’m also thinking that bitch deserves to be dealt with, too.”

  Kim grumbled approvingly as she hugged Rachael.

  “God, I can’t believe this.”

  Carlie and Brent were together for four years. How could this happen to them?

  But then again, there were signs. It had been apparent to Rachael—and Kim, too—that the pair had been having issues for a few months. All the times Brent was a no-show at family functions. The canceled plans. The late nights at work. It all took on a darker slant now. She knew Carlie had been miserable the last few weeks, that something was wrong. Rachael wondered if her sister had suspected it.

  She poured a big glass of orange juice for Carlie, and brought it back to the living room. “You said it always makes you feel better?”

  Kim followed with a bottle of vodka, waving it back and forth. “And if the OJ doesn’t cut it, we can always screw it.”

  Carlie wiped her red nose and rubbed Olive’s back, curled up next to her on the couch. “I don’t know what I would do without you guys.”

  “Fortunately, your crying ass won’t have to find out. Now hand me your glass so I can make a proper screwdriver,” said Kim, reaching for the juice.

  Carlie shook her head, clutching the glass. “No, thank you. I don’t really feel like drinking.”

  “That makes one of us,” Kim said, retracing her steps to the kitchen to mix her own drink.

  Rachael smirked, watching Kim disappear on her mission. “What do you want to do, Car?”

  She took a long drink of OJ and stared into space. “I need to find a new place. I can’t stay there.”

  “We can take care of that. I’ve actually been looking at rentals all over.”

  “And I need to get my stuff. I can’t believe this,” she said, clattering the glass onto the tabletop, splashing a small puddle of juice across the furniture. “How can this be happening?” She buried her face in her hands, her breath heaving.

  Rachael wiped up the juice and felt helpless. Carlie’s misery was so acute it was tangible, a haunting figure in the room. Rachael’s heart broke for her.

  “He’s sent text after text,” Carlie whispered miserably. “He wants to talk.”

  “Do you want to talk to him?”

  Shaking her head, she met Rachael’s eyes. “No. I can’t.”

  “Then don’t.”

  She rocked forward over her knees, and Rachael sat next to her, running her hands through her little sister’s wavy caramel-blonde hair, over and over.

  Her red-rimmed, slate-blue eyes peeked up at Rachael through her cascading hair. “That was Rick?”

  “Yes.”

  Carlie thought for a minute. “He’s cute.”

  “He is, isn’t he?”

  She smiled. “He seems nice, too.”

  “He is.” She hesitated. “Sorry, Car.”

  “What are you sorry about?”

  “This conversation, talking about Rick when you just walked in on Brent like that.”

  “In case you missed it, I’m the one who brought up Rick. And besides, I like seeing the effect he has on you. You’re gushing, practically radioactive with this mushy glowing.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yup.”

  “Well, he’s pretty amazing.”

  “Sorry I interrupted your date.”

  “No need to apologize. I’m glad I could be here for you. Rick understands, too. He’s actually the one who insisted he should leave.”

  Carlie nodded slowly. “He probably thinks I’m a complete nut job.”

  “No, not at all.”

  The sisters sat in silence, both lost in their thoughts.

  “It smells good in here,” Carlie finally sniffed. “He cooked?”

  “He did. Steaks, veggies, all kinds of stuff.”

  “Any leftovers? I’m starving.”

  Rachael laughed and pulled Carlie to her feet. “Yes, let’s get you some food.”

  Kim had already dug into the fridge, pulling out the leftovers. They took turns heating up dishes and settled down for some calorie indulgence and Brent bashing.

  * * *

  The annoying buzz of her phone’s alarm woke Rachael. She mumbled and grumbled, slapping her hand all over the nightstand trying to silence the damn thing.

  Finally locating it, she realized it was not an alarm, but a phone call. She focused on the screen and saw Rick’s name.

  She fumbled to hit the answer button, just as the phone switched to voicemail. Crap.

  Yawning, Rachael looked blankly around the bedroom and noticed she had fallen asleep on top of the bedspread. She rubbed her eyes and forced them to focus on the phone’s screen, discovering it was almost ten. She counted backward. Not quite six hours of sleep. That would have to do.

  Her phone vibrated. A picture of her front door with a tray of coffees and a bag graced the screen. She hummed happily and called Rick. “Morning.”

  “Good morning. I never heard from you, but figured you could do with some good coffee. Want me to leave?”

  “No, just give me a sec to brush my teeth. Go around back. The door should be open.”

  “See you in a minute.”

  She washed quickly and brushed her teeth, grabbing a hair tie and pulling her blonde nest back into a knot. Better. She ran down the stairs and saw Rick in the kitchen, picking up the mess from last night. “The food was great the second time, too,” she said, walking up to him. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her. Inhaling his warm, uniquely Rick scent, she snuggled against him. He smelled of fresh laundry, soap, and soft spices, with a hint of lingering chlorine.

  “I wanted to see you. Hope that’s all right.”

  “Very. I missed you already,” she replied, peeking up at him. “How cheesy is that?”

  “Pretty cheesy, but perfectly acceptable. How’s your sister?”

  She pointed over her shoulder to the living room. “Passed out on the couch. I don’t know what to do. I’m so angry at Brent, but I also think this is ultimately going to be good for her. They’ve been drifting apart for a while now.”

  “Sounds like you don’t need to do anything but be there for her.”

  “She did say she needs to find a new place to stay. And so do I. Guess we can house hunt together.”

  She could see his wheels turning, when he suddenly widened his eyes and shook his head. “Coffee, pastries.” He jogged through the house and opened the door, picking up the carrier and bag. Rick held up the tray for her inspection. “Take your pick.”

 
Scanning the labels, she grabbed a vanilla latte. “Mmm . . . Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “What have you got going on today?” she asked, adding another splash of vanilla creamer, savoring the sweet scent.

  “You’re looking at it. Only thing I had on my schedule was to hit the pool to swim some laps. Already done.”

  “Is Gil working this weekend?”

  He nodded then stepped behind her to rub her shoulders. She loved that he wanted to keep touching her.

  “If you could just keep doing that for the next two hours, that would be great,” she closed her eyes to enjoy the moment, and a thought occurred to her. “Who works the holidays?”

  “Gil and I take turns, along with our partners you have yet to meet, Alan and Theresa. I have tomorrow off for the Fourth, but may still drop in and check on a couple of the patients.”

  “We were thinking about doing a cookout tomorrow before the fireworks, but not sure if that’s going to happen now.”

  “Why wouldn’t we still do it?” Carlie asked, yawning as she shuffled into the kitchen.

  “You still want to?”

  She nodded and inspected the coffees. “Can I have this?” she asked, holding up a regular coffee with cream and sugar.

  “It’s yours,” Rick granted.

  “Thanks. I’m Carlie,” she said vaguely in his direction while pulling the lid off the coffee and checking the color.

  “Rick.”

  “Hmm? Oh, yes, I know,” she said into her cup.

  “Creamer is in the fridge, Car,” Rachael said, grinning at her sister’s pre-caffeine aloofness.

  “Please, God, tell me you have something with caramel or white chocolate,” Kim said, stumbling in after Carlie.

  “Rick, this is Kim. She’s basically my other sister.”

  “There’s nothing basic about me, Rach,” she winked in classic Kim sass. She let out a tiny squeal and picked up a caramel macchiato. “There is a god, and his name is Rick.”

  He laughed and bowed in her direction.

  “I like this one, Rach. He’s a keeper,” Kim said, inhaling deeply over the drink’s opening.