Chapter34
Sara
I didn't haveaha moments. Not often.
I came around to ideas the way people waded into a chilly pool—just a toe, then a foot, a doubtful dip up to the knees, inching toward thighs though not really wanting to do that, then—finally—making the eventual concession to waist deep, all while standing stiffly with arms held above the surface, teeth gritted with the conviction that getting wet was just a terrible idea.
Some people probably cannonballed their way into those cold pools, and that was fantastic for them. So fantastic. Aha people represent.
I never wanted to get wet. I definitely held my arms above the water long past the point of acclimation. Even when I was in it, I needed extra time to adjust. There was nothing more vulnerable than throwing your entire self into a body of water, and vulnerability was fucking scary. Aha moments were fucking scary. They required trusting your mind enough to let it lead the way, and my mind—well, it was fair to say my mind didn't have a good track record of leading me toward the healthiest paths.
When it came to Sebastian, I required a lot of acclimation—and then one epic aha moment where I belly-flopped into the water, loud and painful and flailing, and gave up all semblance of shielding myself from the risk of vulnerability.
I had to let the aha happen, as much as I hated it, as much as I resisted it.
That was why I was sitting on the landing outside Sebastian's apartment, furiously texting all of our friends.
Sara:Can I ask you guys for help?
Alex:Always assume the answer to that is yes.
Nick:What Emmerling said.
O'Rourke:I'm not as useful as those two. I'd advise sticking with them.
Alex:Please don't make me regret being nice to you, O'Rourke.
Sara:Okay. Here goes. Stremmel should be leaving the hospital any minute now. I know Hartshorn is having everyone over tonight…and I need you to send Sebastian home. Don't let him go. Just send him straight home. I have to talk to him. It needs to be today and it needs to be away from work.
Alex:We could tell him there's going to be sleet. He hates sleet.
Nick:I want to help you, believe me, but I don't know how we're supposed to uninvite him from the pizza party at Cal and Stella's. They do this the weekend before Thanksgiving every year. It's a whole college football thing. He fucking loves it.
Alex:You just don't want to be the one to make Stremmel cry.
O'Rourke:Was I invited to this party?
Nick:Could you grab him at the hospital instead?
O'Rourke:I don't think I was invited to this party.
Sara:I don't want this to happen at the hospital. I know it probably seems ridiculous and I know I'm asking you three to jump in the middle of this for me, but I really need to separate everything from work.
Alex:It's cool, I can take responsibility for him crying. I actually don't mind that at all.
O'Rourke:Since I'm not invited, am I off the hook here?
Alex:Listen, O'Rourke. You're invited. Hartshorn is absentminded as hell. He forgets the whole thing until a day or two before when his wife asks how many pizzas to order. Then he goes around inviting everyone he sees. It happens every year. His wife sends out a big text with the details but she doesn't know you and doesn't have your number. You're invited.
Nick:Wait a second, everyone. Shap, I love and trust you, but I don't want Eeyore wandering off on his own if things don't work out. Eeyore is okay only because the group keeps him on the radar. I need you to text me if this takes a turn. My wife will kill me if I lose track of Eeyore.
Alex:I don't know whether to cackle over you calling him Eeyore or try to figure out whether I'm Tigger in this setup.
Nick:Can't go there with you until I've had at least two beers, Emmerling.
Alex:Who is Winnie the Pooh? Is that Hartshorn? Oh my god, it's Hartshorn.
Alex:Are you Piglet? No. That doesn't work. Are you Christopher Robin?
