Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Something flickers in Hale’s expression, but it’s gone too quickly for me to identify it. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
7
IVY
“Well, did he say where he’s taking you on the date tomorrow?”
“No,” I tell Gabby as I scratch behind Morton’s ears and stare up at the ceiling beams. I spent the last thirty minutes having a whispered phone conversation with my best friend. She’s finally back from her honeymoon with her own mountain man.
“Well, what about after you agreed to go on the date? What happened then?” She presses.
“We ordered some pieces for the nursery.” The entire time Hale and I were like a couple of high school kids with our first crush. Neither of us could stop looking at the other one and grinning. Now that I know Hale feels the same way about me, there are butterflies in my stomach.
“I thought he didn’t like me,” I admit to Gabby. It’s what kept me from asking him out when he used to come into the dessert shop. Now I suspect that maybe Hale isn’t grumpy so much as he’s shy and awkward.
“I knew you two were meant to be.” She giggles.
I shake my head even though she can’t see me. Miss Newlywed sounds like she’s already mentally planning my wedding. Before I can tell her not to hype the date, I hear noises coming from Ollie’s nursery. I tell her goodbye and quickly end the phone call.
When I get to the nursery, I find that Hale is already there. He’s pacing the floor and singing softly to Ollie under his breath. He grimaces when he sees me. “Sorry, did we wake you?”
I shake my head. “Do you want to trade off?”
Ollie chooses that moment to let out another loud wail, and I notice the circles under Hale’s eyes. On the couch tonight, he told me that he flew into Colorado last week and picked up Ollie. He’s probably spent the last week exhausted. Both of them have.
“He sleeps best when he’s in motion,” Hale explains. “Normally, walking around is enough.”
“We could go for a drive,” I suggest. When I worked at the daycare, some of the parents would mention how it soothed their restless babies.
Hale looks relieved at the idea. It only takes us a couple of minutes to get the diaper bag and shove supplies in it. Then the three of us are on the mountain road with only the moonlight. The darkness feels strange and intimate. But at least, it helps Ollie. He quiets within a few minutes and finally begins snoring softly.
Once his nephew is silent, Hale says softly, “I have epilepsy.”
I glance from the road, but I can’t see much in the darkness. I can barely make out his profile. “Does that mean you’re going to be motion sick? Is that a form of motion sickness?”
“It’s a seizure disorder. It means electrical signals in my brain sometimes go a little haywire. I tend to lose consciousness when that happens,” he explains.
“So, it’s kind of like going to sleep?” I’m trying to wrap my mind around this. I’ve never known anyone with seizures. What I do know about them comes from TV, and the thought that Hale could be going through something like that scares me.
“When you go to sleep and wake up, you know you’ve been asleep. I don’t always know I’ve had a seizure. I’m suddenly confused and disoriented. I can’t remember part of my day. For you, I imagine it would be like suddenly finding yourself in a different city in a strange hotel room. You’re aware of who you are but you’re a bit confused about where you are and how you got there.”
I think about that for a moment, about how lost and scared I’d feel if it happened to me. “That would scare the hell out of me. I’d want to stay home under my blankets all day and never go outside.”
He chuckles softly. “That’s how I felt when I first started having seizures as a teenager. It can be disorienting. It’s frustrating and yeah, even scary sometimes.”
I wonder what this means for his life. I know he runs his own business, works out at the gym, and lives alone. “Can you do everything normal people can?”
He’s quiet for a beat too long. “I am normal.”
I cringe, realizing what I said and how it must have sounded. “Sorry. It’s just…”
“You’ve never known someone like me and you don’t have the language for it yet. I get that.” His tone is filled with patience. “I’ve had half my life to learn about epilepsy and seizures, medication, and support groups. I don’t expect you to know anything about the condition. I thought you should know I have it.”
I’m quiet for a long time. “Do you have a lot of seizures?”
“I used to have them every day. I developed posttraumatic epilepsy following a head injury as a teenager. It took years to get my seizures under control. There are a lot of medications and finding the one that works best for your brain can be hard. Last week, I had my first one in three years.”