As the music ended, Eli took me in his arms, gazed into my eyes and the depths of my soul. His lips parted, and we kissed. My skin tingled as his warm breath swirled across my cheek. He caressed my jaw with his thumb. I kissed him back, my palm against his chest. His heart pounded so hard I nearly heard it.
When we pulled away and faced Tyson, I wanted to touch my mouth, but instead pressed my lips together to somehow savor the memory. My skin turned cool when Eli let go of me.
Tyson’s jaw dropped open. Surprise and awe covered his face. He closed his mouth and swallowed.
“Well?” Eli’s voice sounded completely void of the passion we’d just shared.
“That’ll work.” Tyson nodded, his eyes still wide.
Eli smiled and held out his fist. I bumped it, still recovering from the passionate dance and kiss. Eli didn’t seem too affected. I had to remind myself that we were, after all, just acting.
Before heading home I decided to try to call Jilly again. I really wanted to wish her luck at sectionals and tell her about Eli and rehearsal and how confused things were getting. Under normal circumstances I knew she’d love to hear about it and tell me what to do, but we were still on the outs and I didn’t know how to fix it. I resorted to texting her, since she didn’t seem to want to hear my voice.
“Hey Jilly, good luck at Sectionals. I know you’ll be awesome. With you flying they can’t go wrong. Call me. I have tons to tell you.”
* * *
A few days later, as I pulled up in front of Gloria’s house, I saw her waving from her car. I parked, and then hopped in with her.
Gloria and I had developed a love/hate relationship. She loved to insist my voice would be ready by opening night and that I’d be able to match Eli in our duet, and I hated to hear about, think about it or talk about it.
We were fighting a stubborn battle of wills. I clung to my lack of natural talent, and she insisted all I lacked was self confidence and proper breath support.
Bullshit.
“Where we going?” I asked naively. I should have known better than to underestimate her.
“Did you warm up to the tape I gave you on your drive here?”
“Yeah.” I buckled my seatbelt.
“Great. We’re on our way to the Middleton Nursing Home for your first official vocal performance.” My evil master had the gall to smile as she pulled away from the safety of my getaway car.
“What? We can’t do that!” My stomach clenched into a tight ball.
“Why not?”
“First off, you didn’t tell me!” She couldn’t be serious, could she?
“I just did,” Gloria said.
“But I’m not prepared. I’m not ready!”
“You’re not ready to perform center stage at the Overture Center, but you are perfectly prepared for the senior residents at a nursing home.”
My palms began to sweat and my eyes searched the car for an eject button.
Gloria placed her hand on my arm. “You’ll be just fine. These people are very old and most are hard of hearing. They’ll either ignore you or be tickled silly to see a young person.”
It turned out she was right. The nursing home residents were lined up in their wheelchairs or seated with their walkers nearby. Many dozed or didn’t seem with-it enough to know what was going on. A few others smiled at me with cute old wrinkled faces.
The director of the home introduced me. “This evening we are excited to have Willow Thomas here to sing a couple songs for you. She will be performing in a new musical at the Overture Center in a couple weeks.” The director clapped her hands and a few residents joined in. An old man snored loudly.
I grimaced and looked to Gloria who sat behind the piano and began the intro. I locked eyes with her to gain every ounce of strength I could. She mouthed the word “breathe.” I took a last fortifying breath and sang. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t horrible. Most of the patients looked bored, but some nodded their heads to the beat. One little old lady clapped offbeat the whole time.
Afterward, I thanked them, grabbed my coat and high-tailed it out before Gloria could make me sing any more.
“You did a nice job in there,” she said.
“You think so?” I didn’t, but her support meant the world to me.
“Absolutely. You see how nervous you were at the start, and by the end your knee knocking was barely visible.”
“You’re right. I guess that was a good exercise.” Despite my nerves, a glimmer of hope eked through.
“However, you need to concentrate on your breath support. You’ll feel stronger and it will help you hit the high notes with more confidence and power.”
Of course, she couldn’t let me have that small glimmer of joy.
Chapter 26
My drive home from Gloria’s was slow. All day a steady fall of snow came down and the cars on the highway crawled along. A thick blanket of snow turned the neighborhood into an old-fashioned Christmas card. At least three inches of snow had accumulated on the streets and sidewalks. The forecast predicted more overnight. Mom, Dad and Breezy left for Vermont yesterday to see Grandma, so that meant I’d be the one shoveling tomorrow morning.
As soon as I stepped out of the car, a swirl of snow surrounded me. My shoes and the bottom of my jeans were immediately coated. Another bad day to wear flats.
Anxious to check on Twinkie I rushed up the slippery porch steps. Once inside, I noticed the coat rack lay on the floor. In the hall, a tall floor vase lay toppled with the dried curly willow stems splayed across the floor.
At first I thought someone had broken in, but then I noticed the money Mom and Dad left for me on the coffee table next to my iPod. A burglar wouldn’t ignore eighty dollars. Just in case, I grabbed an umbrella for self defense. I figured I was safe, but you never know. Better safe than attacked by a criminal hiding in the closet.
“Twinkie?” I called out in my loudest whisper.
Nothing.
I walked through the living room with my spoked weapon.
No dog.
I checked the dining room and kitchen.
No dog.
Now I was getting more worried about Twinkie than an attacker. Was she okay? Was I going to find her dead?
“Here girl…Where are you?” I called, but no sound of paws padded my way. I checked the pantry and was about to go upstairs when I heard a muffled sound coming from the bathroom. Inside the small dark room I found Twinkie wedged between the toilet and the wall with her tail tucked down and her whole body shivering like she had a bad fever.
I flipped on the light and crouched next to her. “Hey girl, what are you doing in here?” She didn’t come out. I pet her and she seemed to calm down, but stayed crammed into the tight space. The wastebasket lay dumped on its side, but Twinkie hadn’t shredded the tissues like she normally does.
“What’s the matter? You don’t want to be stuck in here.” I pulled her out, which she seemed happy about. We walked into the living room with her pressed against my leg the whole time. I put a couple logs in the wood burner and plopped down. Twinkie crept to me on her belly and tucked herself between my legs.
“It’s okay, I’m right here.” And then her body locked up. “Oh no!” I scrambled away to give her space. Twinkie began to seize. I’d never seen it look so painful. Her neck had been curled toward me and now it froze in an awkward position as her body convulsed.
It was so horrible, like watching a car crash. You saw it coming and there’s nothing you can do, but stand back, watch and hope everyone’s okay. So I perched on my knees and waited, knowing she wouldn’t be able to take a breath until it was over. Her contorted neck jerked with each spasm, and I had to look away as her body beat against the braided area rug.
I chewed on my lip and waited and waited. It wouldn’t end. This was a long one, a couple of minutes, and she hadn’t taken a breath. Would it kill her? Had she been doing this while I was gone today? God, I hoped not.
The thump of her body against
the floor slowed, and I looked over to see her body had relaxed. Now she lay seemingly lifeless, her eyes fixed and staring. “Oh girl, it’s done now. It’s okay.” I stroked her head. Finally she heaved a breath. I dropped my head into the long fur of her neck. What was I going to do?
After a couple minutes of rapid breathing, she became alert again and her tail wagged. It broke my heart.
“Hey girl, you want a treat? You must be hungry after all that scary stuff.” I ruffled her ears and then went to the kitchen to get her medicine. A note lay next to the pill bottle from the neighbor, Mr. Walters. Twinkie had two seizures when he came over at lunch to check her. He gave her a valium before he left. It obviously wasn’t working.
A loud crash came from the dining room. I rushed in. Twinkie walked on the open display shelves, knocking off Dad’s sculptures and vases.
“Twinkie, what are you doing?” I called her, but she stayed pressed to the wall and knocked over anything in her path. Mom’s dried flower arrangement, crashed over, the magazine rack, down. I rushed over and saved the wine rack filled with Dad’s home brews as Twinkie pushed between it and the wall.
“Come here girl.” I grabbed her collar and led her into the kitchen where I pushed her meds into a blob of peanut butter. “Eat this. It’s nummy, and you’ll feel better.” She licked it off my finger in a second. “Good girl,” I said. “Let’s see if that will stop those crummy seizures.”
Before my dad had left, he’d reminded me to use the valium if her seizures worsened. I’m so glad he did. Just as I turned to get the valium bottle, I heard a thump. There she was again, frozen on the floor as the seizure gained momentum and took over her body like a possessed demon.
“Oh no!” Her body began its violent attack, and her head kept hitting the hard wood floor. I rushed to the living room and grabbed Mom’s afghan, returned and tucked it under her head.
This was getting out of hand. I watched her for a while, but then had to turn my back I couldn’t stand it anymore. This one lasted even longer. After she came back around I gave her another valium in hopes it would act faster.
I checked the clock. It was after ten, which meant in Vermont it was after eleven. I grabbed the wall phone.
Thud. Another seizure. Only a couple minutes had passed since her last one. Why wasn’t the valium working? I covered my face with my hands and cried. I didn’t want to look away, but watching hurt so bad.
I dialed Dad’s cell. They were staying at Grandma’s mountain cabin. The phone rang and went to voice mail.
“Dad, it’s me. Twinkie keeps having seizures, and they won’t stop.” My voice sounded high and tight. “I gave her the meds, but it’s getting worse. Please call me right away.” I stepped around Twinkie as her body whacked itself against the floor again. I couldn’t stand there and watch; I had to get away from it. The helplessness ate at me.
I didn’t want to be alone for this. Dad was supposed to handle it, not me. I went in the living room and looked out the picture window. A blizzard of snow whipped through the air like a churned up snow globe. I grabbed the pill bottle from the kitchen and dialed the number of the vet.
“Emergency Pet Clinic,” a woman answered.
“Hi, You guys saw my dog over a couple weeks ago for seizures. Well, I came home a while ago, and she was hovering in a corner and has been knocking things over in the house. Now she keeps having really long seizures one after another. She’s had three in the last twenty minutes.” I turned my back on poor Twinkie. I couldn’t bear to watch it any more. I was such a coward.
“What’s your dogs name?” the voice asked.
“Twinkie. Twinkie Thomas.” I answered, embarrassed such a beautiful dog had such a stupid name.
“Let me look up her record.”
I peeked at Twinkie where she lay still locked in torment and shuddered. Would it never end?
“Got it. I see you have phenobarbital and valium.”
“Yes. I’ve given her seizure meds on schedule, and I gave her a valium this morning, and she got one at lunch. I just gave her two more a little while ago, but it’s not doing anything.” My panicked voice cracked.
“All right, you can give her another one. If that doesn’t do it, in fifteen minutes try one more.”
“Why is this happening? Why is she knocking everything over?”
“I can’t say for sure without having her examined, but most likely she’s lost her sight. If she has a brain tumor, as the doctor suspected, it’s a common progression along with loss of the use of her limbs.”
I looked at Twinkie who now lay exhausted. “So what do I do?”
“It’s up to you at this point. You can keep her comfortable through her last days or bring her in. We can monitor her or put her to sleep.”
“Oh.” I swallowed. Tears filled my eyes.
“I’m sorry I don’t have a better prognosis for you.”
I nodded, then realized she couldn’t hear my gesture. “It’s okay. Thank you.” I sniffed.
“Give us a call back if you decide to bring her in.”
“Okay, I will.” I hung up before I started to bawl. I slumped down the side of the cupboard to the floor next to Twinkie and wove my fingers through her fur. She raised her head and tried to look at me through blinded eyes. “I’m right here, girl.”
I reached up for the valium bottle and gave her another. She barely had it in her when another seizure came on. I covered my face. Thankfully, this one was less severe. Her body twitched a lot, but it wasn’t like the violent attacks of earlier. The medicine must finally be working.
I pulled my cell out of my back pocket and dialed Dad again. No answer, so either he was asleep or there was no reception in the mountains, which I knew happened a lot. I tried Mom’s cell too. No luck.
I really needed to talk to someone, but who could I call so late? I tried Jilly, in the hopes she’d stopped hating me by now, but she didn’t pick up. I didn’t bother to leave a message.
So I dialed another number from memory. It’s funny how you remember some things after years of not thinking about them. A couple rings and Eli’s confident, friendly voice came on.
“It’s Eli. Can’t talk, so leave a message. Or not.” Then a beep.
Caught off guard, I wasn’t sure what to do. But the night we’d gone parking he’d said we were friends. While he’s been decent to me ever since, he still acts guarded and keeps his distance. I couldn’t afford to worry about that distance now. I needed a friend.
“Hey Eli, it’s me. Willow.” The second I spoke his name, all this emotion flooded out.
“My dog is really sick, and I’m pretty sure she’s dying. My Mom and Dad are out of town, and I was just hoping to talk to… somebody.” My voice came out shaky. “I guess you’re already in bed, so, um, I’ll see you at rehearsal.” I gasped a breath, clicked off, and tossed the phone on the floor.
So it was me and Twinkie alone to weather the storm. Probably her final storm. After a while, she came around again and whimpered.
“I know girl, it sucks. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.” I held her for a while then tried to give her food, but she wouldn’t eat. I couldn’t get her to go outside to the bathroom either. So I moved her into the living room by the wood stove. She wobbled on her feet, but seemed happy to stay by me.
I cuddled her on the big braided rug. A couple of seconds later, she whined and another seizure started. I must say, I was pissed. Enough already. I left her on the rug and grabbed the peanut butter jar and valium. As soon as she came to, I gave her another. These things were gonna stop. Now!
I lay on the floor and spoke quietly. She whined a couple times, but didn’t have another seizure. She seemed to like the sound of my voice.
“Remember the first day I met you? You were a big golden ball of fluff. You were so cute and you used to chew on my shoelaces.” I pet her beautiful soft coat. “And remember that time when I was eleven and I ran away? You followed me. You were the only one who understood me.�
�� I sniffled and wiped my nose on my sleeve. “I only got three blocks before I changed my mind and came back. But you were so sweet and loyal and you always comforted me. I’m not gonna leave you, girl.”
Twinkie fell asleep to the sound of my voice. I stroked her and then moved her legs to get up and go fetch a tissue. Her legs hung limp, like wilted celery. I gasped.
“Oh my God.” I moved each of her legs, and they hung lifeless in my hand. Was she dead? Did I kill her with so much valium? My eyes welled up. I gently took her head in my hands to lift it and it flopped as if she didn’t have a neck. I set her head down, grossed out by the feeling.
I covered my mouth with my hand to hold back the horror of what I had done.
Then a knock on the picture window startled me.
I looked up and saw Eli. I heaved an anguished breath and scrambled to my feet and let him in. Cold air and snow pushed through the front door along with him. Snow dusted his hair and coat. I quickly shut the door.
I’d never been so glad to see someone in my life.
“Are you okay?” He searched my face, his beautiful blue eyes filled with concern.
“I think I killed her.” I burst into tears.
Eli pulled me into his arms, folding them around me like ribbon on a gift. He held me close, his head nestled against mine. He made soothing sounds and kissed my hair. I felt like a frightened child who’d woken up from a bad dream and was being soothed by their mother. Except I wasn’t a child, this wasn’t a bad dream, and it was Eli who ran his hand over my head and rubbed my back.
I looked at him with watery eyes. “Why are you here? I thought you were asleep.” Up close I was inches from his mouth, the one that kissed me last Saturday and at rehearsal. This time, he kissed my forehead.
“No, I was in the shower when you called. You sounded so upset. I didn’t think you should be alone.” He smoothed my hair.
Dream Chaser Page 16
