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“I think they’re smarter than me,” Bethany said. “More socially intelligent, in any case. Maddie and Tommy are like Nick and me in that they love science and math. But Phoebe is softer. More emotional. She likes drawing pictures, reading books, and dreaming up stories. Nick and his parents see no use in the arts. Nick wants to put her in an after-school science program to improve her grades in those areas, but I keep telling them to let Phoebe be Phoebe.”
“Well said.”
Bethany rubbed her forehead. “I’m ranting,” she said with a laugh. “I’m sorry. I feel like I carry these arguments with Nick around in my head all the time.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Bethany laughed lightly, watching as a little girl scampered down the boardwalk with a melting ice cream cone. She itched to reach out and take Rod’s hand.
“It’s so good to talk to an old friend,” Bethany said finally. “I’ve had my sister and mom by my side lately, and it’s been a godsend. But I never thought they fully got me. Not the way you did.”
“We’ve gone through too much together not to get one another.”
The words were barely a whisper. Bethany squeezed her palms together, her chest aching. She felt that if she didn’t force herself to go home now and leave Rod, she might never find the strength to step away from him. She felt herself swimming in the same feelings she’d had for him thirty years ago. The power of a high schooler’s emotions transcended time and space.
“I’d better get back,” she said, her voice cracking.
“Me too.”
Bethany tucked a curl around her ear. “You’re remarkable, Rod. I hope you know that.”
Rod’s eyes glowed. “You too, Bethy. I’m thrilled to know you.”
Although Rod had driven her downtown from the hospital, Bethany insisted on walking herself home. Later, Rebecca could take her to the hospital to pick up her car. But right now, she wanted to stretch her legs and feel the soft early evening breeze through her hair. She wanted to remember fully what it meant to have her heart thrum with love.
It wasn’t like she was going to get back together with Rod. She was already married. She was already in the midst of her own mess. But it was so marvelous to dream of a new start.
Chapter Eighteen
Three nights before Bethany planned to return to Savannah to prep for Felix’s surgery, she had a panic attack. It was the first panic attack she’d had since medical school, one that rollicked through her stomach and kept her stationed on the sofa for a full thirty minutes, waiting for her heart to stop racing. When she regained control over her body, she slumped over and stretched across the cushion. From out back came the sounds of her children playing. They were none the wiser to her misery.
The front door opened to bring Rebecca into the living room. She carried grocery bags and said, “You wouldn’t believe what they were out of at the store. No watermelon! No sliced bread! I know it’s fully tourist season, but this is ridiculous.”
And then, she saw Bethany. “Honey, are you all right?”
Bethany closed her eyes. “I just had a panic attack. But I’m fine now.”
Rebecca hustled into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water, which she ordered Bethany to drink. “Do they happen often?”
“They used to. I thought I was over them.”
Rebecca rubbed Bethany’s back and sighed. “It’s just one thing after another lately, isn’t it?”
Bethany tried to laugh, but it got stuck in her throat.
“Do you know what caused it?” Rebecca asked.
“I can’t stop thinking about Nick,” Bethany admitted. “We haven’t spoken at all since the kids and I left. And he’s turned into a monster in my head. I don’t know if I can face him. But I know we need to talk sooner rather than later.”
Rebecca grimaced. Although she’d had a happy and wonderful marriage prior to her husband’s death, she understood the complexities of joining your life legally and emotionally with another. (And because of her work in the restaurant business, she knew the complexities of dealing with narcissists, which they’d decided Nick was.)
“I think you should face him,” Rebecca said after a pause. “Call him. Now. Don’t let it wait. Don’t let it fester. It will just get bigger and bigger if you do.”
Bethany knew Rebecca was right. But when she pressed her phone against her ear and listened to the call ring out across the East Coast, she felt on the verge of another panic attack. When he didn’t answer—not then, nor the five times she called throughout the day—she both thanked her lucky stars and felt a different sort of panic rise. Where was he? Was he all right?
“Why don’t you call the hospital?” Rebecca suggested as she sliced onions for a curry that evening.
Bethany grimaced and made the call. A receptionist answered immediately and, having recognized her name, said, “Good evening, Dr. Sutton. How can I help you?”
