“Let’s grab a bite to eat, then head back before we lose track of time.”
She nods and hops out of the truck, meeting me at the front and reaching to hold my hand again.
We sit in the diner-style eatery, and after our food is ordered, I sit back and stare at her.
“What?” she asks nervously.
“I’m just in awe of you, of your suggestion to take this drive.”
“You looked like you needed it yesterday. Taking drives like this with music playing always calms my mind.”
I close my eyes briefly, nodding my head, not sure what to say.
“Do you ever talk to someone? Like, does the city provide counseling for all the horrible things you see?”
I raise my eyebrows slightly and let out a breath. “That’s what choir practice is for.”
“Choir practice?”
I nod. “Yep. After my first really bad call, my captain placed his arm over my shoulders and said, ‘Let’s get you to choir practice.’”
“You sing church music?” she asks in disbelief, and I laugh out loud.
Shaking my head, I answer, “No. It’s when we go to the bar and drink our problems away.”
Her eyes open slightly. “Drink your problems away?”
I nod. “Yep. That’s why I was at the bar so early the day I met you.”
“And the day they called me …”
I sigh. “Choir practice that day wasn’t working as well as planned. I think they all were thankful they could call you that night.”
“Does everyone participate in choir practice?”
“Yeah. It’s impossible to just go home after such intense calls and go on with your life. You have to have something to get rid of the memories.”
“Yeah, but drinking doesn’t seem like the healthiest way to deal with things like that.”
I nod, inhaling and letting it out slowly. “No, it doesn’t. But …” I leave my thought just hanging in the air because I don’t know what else to say.
“I’m glad they were able to call me, and I’m glad I surprised you in the shower yesterday morning. I don’t want you to bottle those things in. It’s not healthy. Just know that I’m here to talk if you ever need to.”
Memories of what caused my panic attack flash through my mind, but I don’t want to ruin our moment by bringing it up, so I just grin and nod.
Maybe she and Cooper are right though, and I should go talk to someone.
23
Kara
I’m playingmy guitar in my living room when I get a call from a number I don’t recognize.
“Hi, this is Kara,” I answer.
“Kara, hi. This is Mike from Sweetwater,” a man says, making me stop what I’m doing as I stand in disbelief.
“Excuse me?” I say, then instantly regret it.
