I nod. “A second chance.”
A flush sweeps over Avery’s cheeks. “A second chance,” she echoes in a low voice.
This is it. Here goes nothing. “Avery, I?—”
Her eyes widen, pointing over my shoulder. “Oh my God, Gabriel. She’s choking.”
I turn around. A woman is standing, bent over her table, grabbing at her throat. Her face is panicked, and she doesn’t make a sound. The woman seated across from her yells for help.
I reach her in a few seconds’ time, and notice the telltale swell of her stomach. She’s pregnant. “I’m going to help you,” I say, then use the heel of my hand to deliver a solid smack between her shoulder blades. When five attempts does not dislodge the food, I wrap my arms around her from behind, and position one fist at the base of her breastbone. My other hand covers my fist, and I begin quick pushes, in and up, and after a few interminable seconds, a ball of partially chewed food hits the table. I take a step back.
There’s a loud sound of breath being sucked in, followed by a sob, then more sharp breathing. The other woman who’d been eating with the pregnant lady has her arms wrapped around her, and she finds me over her shoulder. “Thank you,” she says loudly. “Thank you thank you thank you.”
I look around and realize I have an audience. People are clapping. The back of my neck heats. They’re looking at me like I’m a hero. As is Avery. I wave quickly and duck my head, trying to communicate that it’s not a big deal. I take a step toward my table, but I’m stopped by a man who shakes my hand. Anotherperson who pats my back. This goes on the entire way back to my table.
Avery stands beside my seat, waiting for me. She places a kiss on my cheek. “You’re awfully good at that.”
I pull out her chair and she takes her seat. “The Heimlich?”
She gives me a look meant to communicate that she knows I’m deflecting. “At saving lives. At knowing what to do when something goes wrong.”
I replace my fallen napkin on my lap, shaking my head at her praise. “I’m sure several people here know how to perform the Heimlich.”
Avery’s eyebrows arch. “On a pregnant woman?”
I shrug and look away. Avery touches my arm and pulls my attention back to her. “She’s coming this way.”
I look up, and the woman who was choking just a few minutes ago is making her way over, her friend in tow. I stand.
Her eyes are shiny. “You saved my life.” She palms her swollen stomach. “And my baby’s. I don’t think I can say thank you enough times.” Her head shakes with astonishment. “What can I do? How can I repay you?”
“No repayment necessary. I’m glad I was around when you needed help.”
“Can I have your name?” she asks, palm sliding over her swollen midsection. “I want to at least be able to tell my husband the name of the man who saved us.”
I open my mouth to respond, but Avery’s already answering. “His name is Gabriel.”
The woman’s friend smiles. “Like the archangel.”
The pregnant woman nods. “We’ll let you get back to your dinner. But thank you. Thank you.” She presses a hand to her chest and smiles at Avery.
“I feel like everybody is staring,” I whisper to Avery after they walk away. My back is to the restaurant.
“They are,” Avery whispers. “As someone who has been the recipient of your heroics, I understand the fascination.”
“That’s why you married me, isn’t it?” I’m making a joke to take away from the headiness of the last ten minutes. I realize belatedly that my joke might fall right to the ground.
Avery grins. “That, and your cute butt, hero.”
Hero. My old nickname. The guys at the station called me that to tease me after the first time Avery visited to thank me, but Avery used it as a term of endearment.
I loved when she called me that, and if this happiness spreading over my chest is any indication, I still do.
Throughout dinner, a few people visit our table and offer words of appreciation. The server brings us all four desserts without us ordering them, and when I request the check, he tells me there isn’t one.
“That woman you saved was the cousin of the head chef. She’s visiting, and called him to tell him what happened. He’s not working tonight, but he called the restaurant right after and said to comp your check.” The server stacks our empty plates and backs away.
I leave a big tip on the table under my empty water glass, and Avery and I walk out. We reach the front of my truck and she turns to me, tugging lightly on the front of my shirt. “I know dinner is over, and it’s late and getting chilly, but I wouldn’t mind taking a walk. Maybe getting coffee or hot tea?”
