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CASPER
“Why does New York have to suck so bad?” I walk down the crowded street, wondering ifanyonehas heard of personal space. My iced coffee isn’t even iced anymore, and I have already started to sweat through the clothes I put on to face down one of my greatest fears.
Public speaking.
“Because New York isn’t Maine, and you’re not home,” my mom’s voice echoes in the earbuds that I never leave home without. “Are you sure you’re up for this, Casper?”
“Yes, Mother.” I only call her that because she hates it and I love to aggravate her. “Just kidding. I love you, Momma,” I add on before she can verbally slap me through the phone. “I don’t have a choice.”
“Be safe out there. And remember, we’re here if you need us.”
“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “I’ll be home in a month, and we can get dinner when all this is settled.” Even saying the words hurts beyond belief. But my parents need me to be strong. Right now, I think I’m the only one of my family who can be.
“Love you, Casper. Forever.” She hangs up before I can say it back, and I can practically feel her heartbreak on the other end. What else can be expected from a woman who just lost one of the people she loves most in the world?
I manage to hold it together, too. Until I walk into the crowded and more than slightly overheated courthouse. First, they make me throw away my non-iced coffee. Then things take a turn for the worse when the security guard’s wand gets way too close for comfort.
“Looking for gold?” I raise an eyebrow and wait for some sort of reaction from the brusque man in front of me. “I swear I’m not hiding anything in my pants and you guys already made me throw away the only thing keeping me cool today.” My pants are actually leggings and wouldn’t have room to hide a pencil, let alone a weapon.
I mean, I know it isn’t his fault that he has to get up close and personal with every person coming into the building. I just take offense that his wand keeps creeping closer to my girly bits than it should.
Actually, I’m so busy watching the wand and making sure I don’t get prodded somewhere I shouldn’t that I completely miss when he’s done.
“You can go through there.” His gruff voice makes me jump. When I look up to see the gentle expression on his face, all my anger at the situation vanishes.
“I’m so sorry,” I explain needlessly, grabbing my bag from the table I’d had to set it on to be searched. “This has been the worst week of my life. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
He nods, motioning for me to go on. Blushing, I quickly head in the direction he said. I mean, he’s working in a courthouse. So of course he sees people during the worst times of their lives.
Come on, Casper. Pull it together.
Trying to breathe, I repeat the same mental pep talk I’ve been giving myself quite a lot lately. Sadly, it is pretty much the only thing keeping me together. Ever since we’d gotten the call about Cassie. I drove three hours from a conference in Boston to New York City on zero sleep.
“Is this seat taken? Or can I sit here?”
I jump, my heart suddenly racing at the voice coming from right behind me. The dark-haired woman who is smiling at me while pointing to the bench I’m sitting on looks apologetic when she sees the way she scared me.
I’m not a complete dunce, though. Somehow, I manage to keep from screaming or slapping a hand to my chest like my grandmother used to do. Recovering quickly, or as quickly as I can possibly manage, I shake my head and move to the side.
“Yeah. No. I mean, yes, you can sit here.”
She sits down without waiting for anything else, her large purse loudly plopping into her lap.
“I hope they hurry,” she says. “My husband doesn’t know I’m here. And I don’t want him to find out. If he does, he’s gonna be pissed and make me start using a driver again.” She blows out a frustrated breath. “That man is wearing on my last nerve.”
My hands are clenched in my lap while I try not to have a panic attack from just being in the courtroom. And then here is this woman, acting like it is nothing, not to mention all the people crowding around us like sardines in the humid room. Just thinking about it has my palms sweating. My stupid heart decides it is the right time to start pounding so hard I can’t hear anything else the woman says, until she puts her hands on my shoulders and her face is right next to mine.
“Breathe. Take a deep breath, or it’s not going to go away. Count with me.” She takes a deep breath. “One.” In. “Two.” Out. “Three.” In again.
After what feels like forever, the panic starts to subside. I realize that I’ve created a scene. It just makes the whole thing worse.
“My son, Laurence, doesn’t like crowds either,” she says with another bright smile. “My name is Sori. I take it you’re not used to the city. I used to love it, but as my son and stepdaughter are starting to grow up, I almost wish that we lived out of the city, ya know?”
Sori pulls a piece of candy out of her purse and offers it, which I gladly take. Rule number one in my family: absolutely never turn down chocolate.
She’s talking so fast it is almost impossible to keep up, but I’m thankful for her. Especially when more people filter in and the doors close behind them.
