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I cough because my throat starts to get choked up.
She looks up at me and I get lost looking in her beautiful brown eyes.
Please say yes. Please say –
“Yes.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
ELSA
Harveyistrainingwithhis team and getting ready to play for the Stanley Cup. They are still waiting for the western team to be awarded apparently and once that happens, they will know who they will play against, and the Stanley Cup games will be scheduled.
I’m starting to learn more about hockey, and I’m glad that it gives me something to do because I’m here stuck at home, still in my parents’ basement.
I miss him but what’s really on my mind is what he said about being willing to tell his parents the truth.
I care about his family, and I don’t want us to keep lying to them, but I’m not sure I’m capable of unveiling the full-blown lie of the fake engagement to them. At least not yet.
What if they hate me after we tell them?
Harvey is convinced they won’t, but I’m not so sure. If I were in their shoes, I don’t know how I’d feel.
For now, I’ll let it rest and stop driving myself crazy.
I hear a notification on my phone and look to see a new video from Harvey.
I snort and roll my eyes as I watch a video Harvey sent to me as he undresses in the locker room. I’ll never get tired of seeing those muscles.
“Elsa! Lunch!” mom yells from the top of the stairs, causing me to almost drop my phone.
I put my phone in my pocket and get to climbing two steps at a time.
I sit at the kitchen table and look at the time on my phone. Few minutes till noon and just then I receive a call from the very place I’ve wanted to hear from.
“Hello, may I speak to Elsa Thompson?” a polite female voice asks.
“This is her, hello,” I say, in my best business voice, enough to get mom’s attention and make her sit right across from me.
“Hello, Elsa, this is Sheila from Dr. Hallebrand’s office,” I curl one fist high in silent cheer. Mom leans in closer, eyes wide with curiosity.
She continues, “You left a voicemail with us recently, and an opening in her schedule has come up. We do have availability to take on another client. Are you still needing to see a therapist?”
The exuberance on my face is clear and mom mouths, “What’s going on?” and I ask for her silence with a sign of my hand.
I clear my throat then say, “I am. When would she be available?”
“I know it’s short notice, but it would be 2 PM today. You would need to come 30 minutes early to fill out paperwork,” Sheila says. “Would that work for you?”
“Absolutely!” I say, unable to hide my cheerfulness. “See you in a little bit!”
“Bye-bye!” she says with the same energy.
I end the call, look at it for a moment, then look at mom, who’s been waiting for an answer to her questions for almost thirty seconds now.
“I have found someone to talk to about my acting career,” I say, vaguely.
I still haven’t told my family about my panic attacks. I don’t need their well-meaning advice in the form of convincing me not to do acting altogether.
