Hold My Breath

by Ginger Scott

  “Did you see that?” I ask.

  He turns to look over his shoulder, lifting his mouth up on one side.

  “I sure did,” he says, looking down and dropping the few stones left in his hand into the water. He bends down to wash his hands off, his feet splashing in the water as he walks back up the shore. I throw another rock, and Will follows its path from my hand. It sinks right away.

  “Should have quit when you were ahead,” he says, pulling his lips in tight, his eyes on the ripple left behind.

  “I’m not sure I like to hear you talk like that,” I say, letting the rest of my stones fall to my feet.

  I step close to him, our toes almost touching, and I reach for his hand, taking the fingertips in my right, then reaching for his other hand with my left. Will threads our fingers together, bringing our tethered hands between us, linked.

  “You know what went through my mind first? When I saw her…before she even said anything, but I knew…I just knew she was sick again.” he says. “You know what I thought?”

  I shake my head no, and curl my fingers through his, squeezing, before meeting his eyes.

  “I thought,” he stops to swallow, looking to the side briefly before coming back to me. “I just got Maddy, and now she’s going to leave.”

  A short breath pushes through his nose and his eyes tilt in desperation.

  “How awful am I? Tanya is dying, and she needs support—and there’s Dylan, and my uncle…he can’t do what I can do for them. But all I could think about when I was faced with that was how I would surely lose you,” he says, his eyes fighting to stay open on me.

  “You’re not awful,” I say, moving closer, freeing my hands from his grip to wrap my arms around his body and press my face against his chest. “You underestimate me, but you’re not awful.”

  I feel his chest sink as air escapes.

  “You can’t say that now, Maddy. You can’t answer that—this—now. It hasn’t sunken in yet,” he says.

  “It has,” I say. “And I can.”

  I burrow into him more, and when I feel his chin fall on top of my head, I let myself believe that Duncan is right—that I can get Will to do anything. I also let myself believe that I am, in fact, prepared for all of the things I’m about to say I am. I’m not—I’m nowhere near prepared. But I know enough to know that walking away from Will would be far worse.

  “Maddy, there’s a reason Tanya lives far away from her parents, why she doesn’t accept their help. They’re terrible people, and Dylan can’t end up with them,” he says.

  “Okay,” I say, feeling the wave of change that reality will bring to Will’s life hit my chest. I take the impact, and I remain standing here. I can survive it.

  “I’m going to be his guardian. The insurance money from the accident, it’s barely enough for Dylan and me,” he says, and I turn my head to look up at him.

  Our eyes meet.

  “Okay,” I smile.

  He starts to smile, too, but it doesn’t stick. That sense of hopelessness is strong, and his eyes wilt.

  “Dylan is four right now. His disability—it’s lifelong. I’m committing to him for life, Maddy. However long that is for him,” he says.

  My eyes don’t lie, and I know Will sees me working through that last fact. It’s something I thought about the first time I met Dylan, about his needs, the constant demands. Tanya has been his advocate, and now Will is going to have to step into that role.

  “I understand that this is a permanent thing, Will,” I say. The thunder of my pulse rattles my body. Uncertainty threatens my resolve, but the other side of that is a life without Will—a life where I didn’t try.

  “I’d like for my parents to meet him,” I say, bypassing the question in Will’s eyes. I don’t even address doubt, and I skip over the out he’s giving me. It isn’t an option, just like his not competing isn’t either.

  Will’s head cocks to the side and he moves back a pace to look me in the eyes.

  “When I held his hand, something happened to me, Will. Dylan is a very special kid…and his family,” I say, pausing with my tongue held between my teeth, my smile growing genuinely. “His family is bigger than you think…and so is yours.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Will

  I can’t get over that nagging feeling, that I shouldn’t be doing any of this—that I should be back in Indianapolis making arrangements, sorting through things, moving Tanya and Dylan into a better place where we can all stay until it’s just Dylan and me. I wear it, though—that feeling—and whenever Maddy sees the proof of it on my face, she steps in to argue all of the reasons in favor of me staying right where I am, right here…with her.

  I’m not even worried about racing the younger and stronger guys I watched file in to the locker room here at Valpo a few hours ago, each of them with a dream of their own—one more fine-tuned and less rife with obstacles, in comparison to my own. I’ve put in the work with what time I had, and Maddy believes in me. Somehow, I’ve earned Curtis in my corner completely. I shut my eyes and all I hear is his voice telling my arm exactly where to go—“precision movements for maximum output.”

  Whatever will be will be. It’s this moment that’s about to swallow me whole, though, that’s consumed my sleep and waking dreams.

  I’ve swam with Maddy’s father for extra hours every day, every second my mind split between two places—in the water with him and on Dylan, and exactly how this moment would go. I finally gave up, realizing that one part of the day I would be able to prepare for, while the other—introducing Maddy’s parents to Dylan and Tanya—would go how it’s going to go despite all of the preparation in the world.

  “They’re going to love him, Will. They’ll love her, too. The history…it won’t matter,” Maddy says, reaching her arm around my neck as she steps up behind me where I sit. I pull her over my body until her face is looking at mine upside down.

  “Spiderman kiss?” she smiles.

  I let her cup my face, and I close my eyes, feeling her mouth on mine. She rights her head and walks around me, sitting on the small footrest across from me in the main lobby. There are athletes milling around, along with a dozen television cameras and reporters. My entire body beats in anticipation of the people noticing and asking about Dylan and Tanya. I want to protect them from having to feel that scrutiny.

  I begin to count to ten in my head, breathing in slowly, in search of rational thought.

  “Nerves again?” Maddy asks.

  I forget the counting and suck in a quick breath, holding my chest full and exhaling hard, my eyes on my one steady thing.

  “Your parents loved Evan,” I say, looking Maddy square in the eyes. “I’m just preparing myself for that look.”

  Her eyebrows fall.

  “What look?” she asks.

  “The one that comes with shattering what’s left of their illusion of my brother,” I grimace.

  Maddy scoots forward and reaches for my hands, so I sit up and give them to her. She turns both palms over in her lap and begins to trace the lines with her fingers.

  “People love magic tricks, and things like palm readers and all of that hokey stuff,” she says, and I curl my right hand around her finger, catching it.

  “Are you about to tell me that my baby line says I’m going to have seventeen kids?” I tease, not able to sell it well, because my heart’s just not ready for funny.

  She flattens my palm back out and scowls at me, jokingly.

  “Boys don’t have baby lines. That’s for girls,” she says, “and no. I’m just saying we all love an illusion. But really…what we want to know is how the trick was done in the first place.”

  She curls my hands into fists this time, pulling them to her lips and kissing my knuckles on each side. I smile at her softly.

  “I don’t think this is quite the same, but I appreciate your faith,” I say, splaying my fingers on either side of her face as I lean in and kiss the top of her head. My eyes scan above her as I do
, and I see my uncle pushing open the main glass door. I lean back and my gaze falls to Maddy’s, and she turns where she sits to follow my sightline beyond her.

  “I guess it’s show time,” she says.

  “Time to reveal the man behind the curtain,” I say.

  I stand as Maddy does, but I pass her, not wanting to put the burden of this awkward introduction on her. I catch Susan’s gaze from across the room, and wave her over, knowing she’ll find Curtis.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask Tanya. Her features haven’t changed much, other than a little noticeable weight loss in her face.

  “I’m good, Will. Your uncle has been very helpful,” she says. I kiss her head, and when I feel her back I can tell that her body has lost more weight than is evident in her face. Her shoulders are more frail, and the muscle tone she had only weeks ago in her back is dwindling.

  “I’m glad. Did you all find a place?” I ask, looking from her to Duncan.

  “We found a good two-bedroom near the hospital where we can pay month-to-month,” she says, no celebration. Month-to-month means that at some point that lease will cease to be necessary. I nod in response, not wanting to say anything about this is positive or good. It’s just essential, and I leave it at that.

  I feel Maddy at my side again, her hand working its way into that familiar place of strength, and I ready myself for whatever will be.

  “Deep breath,” she whisper’s in my ear, and I turn, one part of my family behind me, and the other standing before me.

  Both Curtis and Susan are trying not to stare, but Dylan is hard not to look at. He’s trying to communicate, but his sounds come out in hoots, and his curled hands fight to wave and clap. Tanya holds on to his chair behind him, both to stand as one with her son and to steady herself.

  “Susan, Curtis…I wanted you to meet my family,” I say, my choice of words getting a bit of a flinch from Curtis and fast blinking eyes from Susan.

  “Oh, I didn’t know you had more than Duncan, Will. I’m so glad they could make it,” Susan says, her mouth pinched at the sides trying to put this picture in order as she turns to shake Tanya’s hand. I don’t mean to time it like this, but the second they touch, I fill in the blanks.

  “Dylan is my nephew, and Tanya is his mother,” I say. Susan’s head swivels toward me, her hand now grasping Tanya’s, but her movement stilled. “She’s…she’s like a sister to me,” I add, lowering my head slightly and looking at Susan with a raised brow.

  Our eyes connect, and I watch the pieces fall in place for her, every stage shifting quickly—from shock to betrayal, and from anger to pity, and eventually that heartbreaking place where we all end up when we realize everything Evan missed and how hard it has been on those he left behind.

  “Tanya,” Susan swallows, her eyes trailing back to our guests. “It is…I’m sorry,” she stammers, reaching up with her other hand to rub away the emotion threatening to unravel in her eyes. “You’ll have to forgive me, but this is a surprise to me.”

  “I know. I can assure you that it is for me, too,” Tanya says, her expression soft and honest as her eyes flit to Maddy. She glances to me next, and I nod, encouraging her on, and Maddy squeezes my palm, wrapping her other hand around my bicep.

  “So this young man, he’s…” Susan begins.

  “Evan’s,” Maddy fills in, her voice breaking at the mention of my brother’s name. That small emotion she just emitted hurts, but I remind myself that she hasn’t known about Dylan for long, and as much as I know she’s mine, she was also Evan’s for a long time. Betrayal hurts regardless.

  Susan’s bottom lip puffs out, but she sucks it in quickly, holding onto that quivering urge.

  “I see,” she swallows.

  “Evan’s,” Curtis repeats, standing behind his wife, his hands on her shoulders. I wait for him to look me in the eyes, and when he finally does, I nod.

  “Dylan, can you say nice to meet you?” Tanya encourages. My nephew makes a few sounds, and with Tanya’s lead, it’s possible to recognize the sounds Dylan makes to be the words she asked for.

  He reaches his hand forward, and without hesitation, Susan takes it between both of hers. I watch her body shudder at the contact, like touching something important and discovering it’s real for the very first time. This is how my heart reacts to Maddy.

  “Dylan, you look so very much like your father,” Susan smiles, and I can’t help but follow suit. There are so many things that she could have said, but none of that matters to Dylan, or Tanya. My resentments, the heartbreak Susan and Curtis feel on their daughter’s behalf, the betrayal that must eat away at Maddy—it’s all real, all valid, and we recognize it. But just not here—not in front of the innocents.

  “He really does,” Maddy says, echoing her mother’s words.

  Curtis nods in agreement behind his wife, and his eyes slide to mine with a new layer of understanding behind them.

  I carry a lot of anchors in that water, Curtis. And I’m going to need every bit of help I can get to unload them for just a few seconds.

  Maddy

  I did not shave a third of a second off my time again, but I swam fast enough to win my heats easily, and I breezed into first place in both the one hundred and two hundred free races. Funny how winning can still feel like a disappointment, though, when you know you have more to give.

  “I’ll get the record at trials,” I say, sliding into the space on the bench next to my father.

  “Damn straight you will, and before I’m done, you’ll be beating this guy in the water,” my dad winks, nodding toward Will.

  We both look on while he stretches his arms, leaning over and letting his limbs swing. His body looks ready, but I can still see his head is caught in so many other places.

  “Where’s Mom?” I ask, trying to loosen my father up. He’s clasping his hands together and swaying where he sits, and it’s beginning to affect everyone sitting next to him. I lean into him, and he catches on, glancing down at where my arm touches his and shifting his position while flexing his hands.

  “I guess I’m nervous, sorry,” he says. “Your mom’s in the family section with Duncan and…”

  His lips part, but nothing escapes except for a heavy sigh.

  “Evan’s family,” I fill in for him. My father bites the tip of his tongue and his mouth stretches out in forced smile.

  “Yeah,” he says, blinking as he looks away from me.

  We both watch on in silence, letting the shouts around us fill in the quiet while Will stands behind the heat before him, pacing. He never listens to music like so many of the other guys do, and I wonder if it’s because he already has plenty of noise in his head. He talks to himself, closing his eyes and imagining the start, nodding where every stroke goes as he visualizes the race.

  “She…the girl…” My dad struggles for what to call her.

  “Tanya,” I answer.

  He breathes out a short laugh, pulling his lip up on one side.

  “She didn’t know about me either,” I answer before he asks.

  My father’s lips pull together tight as he nods, his eyes on the activity in the pool, but not really focusing on any one thing. I struggle to say more, wanting to explain how I found out, how much it hurts, but how I also feel like everything has been pushing me toward Will anyhow. None of it makes sense, and my heart is a messy place. That’s what stops me. I’m sure those questions will come from my parents—about how Evan and Tanya met, how I found out, how old Dylan is, what his struggles are. I’ll need to tell them about Tanya’s cancer, and I’ll need them to understand Will’s commitment, because I don’t plan on going anywhere, but I can’t lie to my father. I can’t say I’m not scared, because he would see right through me.

  I am terrified.

  I’m not afraid to love him. That part…it’s easy. But I’m terrified that I won’t be strong enough, and that I will let him down. I just don’t think the man about to fight through the waters trying to drown him can handle one more
disappointment.

  My father stands, his hand resting on my shoulder, but his eyes still on his swimmer—the one he was always meant to push the hardest. My heart is overjoyed to see him stand behind Will again. I cover my dad’s hand with my own, and we make a silent deal to pick up the rest of the conversation about Evan later. For now, we give everything we’ve got to the other Hollister brother—the one nobody saw coming.

  “Time to explode, Will. You have to explode out of this—that’s your edge,” my father yells. His hands form fists at his sides while his swimmer steps up to the blocks.

  “Eighteen!” my father begins to shout, and I stand up next to him and begin to yell along with him.

  This is the number we chase—the one Will chases. The US record in the fifty is barely a breath above eighteen seconds, and if you can even dance with the decimals that come after that number, you buy yourself respect.

  My father has been daily drilling this number into Will’s head. He’s inscribed it on his cap, and we all repeat it in our minds here now. I glance back to where my mom is standing with her arm linked through Duncan’s, and Tanya stands behind Dylan’s chair with her hands clasped together and her neck straining with her held breath. So many people want this for him, but Will has to want it for himself.

  Things begin to happen in slow motion as the bodies lined up along the pool all still, minus the occasional finger twitch in anticipation of the starting sound. The beeps begin, and my eyes sweep closed with the first two as I breathe in hard and fast, filling my chest as I know Will is. When my eyes open, they’re all in the air. Will’s start was mediocre. My father swears, leaping down from our team section to the deck below, cupping his mouth, following along the distance of the pool while he shouts. His words are meaningless to any ears but the ones he’s speaking to—claw, smooth, dig, push…sixty…sixty-five…seventy. My father is counting the strokes. He knows exactly how many it should take. Meanwhile, his eyes are scanning in those last few seconds for places where they can fit one more, take one away, find the edge.