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He approaches. “You’re in good hands. Should I come by tomorrow?”
“I think we’re fine.” I look up at him. “Tomorrow I want to pamper Shay.”
Shay props herself up on one arm. “Can you not say anything to Mama and Papa? I’ll make an appointment with my neurologist and get scans if necessary. I need to sever that tie.”
He nods. Flicks his eyes to mine. Nods again. “Yeah. Okay. But you need to tell them after.”
Miles leaves and Shay sits up. “Let’s go to bed. I need you to hold me.”
“Anything you want.” I stand and pick her up before striding to our bedroom. “So, how did I do?”
“Perfect. I’ve never felt so safe in my life.” Shay throws her arms around my shoulders and buries her face in my neck.
I breathe a sigh of relief.
Make a vow to myself: I’m never going to take a chance with Shay’s safety again.
I’m all for having fun. For letting loose and enjoying life. But I will not forget tonight. And how quickly shit can go wrong with Shay’s condition.
I meant what I said that it is a privilege to be with Shay.
In any moment.
Even the scary ones.
Chapter twenty-eight
Shay
Three Weeks Later
The chic bistro in West Seattle is bathed in soft sunlight that filters in through the large windows.
The hum of conversations, clinking of cutlery, and subdued laughter create a relaxing backdrop. I adjust the pendant necklace I’m wearing, excited to have lunch with Zoey Pearson and get to work on our project. She enters the bistro with a grace that belies her petite stature and huge belly. Her hazel eyes light up when she spots me and her warm smile instantly sets me at ease.
“Shay! Thank you for meeting in West Seattle.” She embraces me. “It’s necessary for me to stick close to home in case I go into labor. We’re trying for a home birth this time around.”
I’m fascinated by the woman who’s the inspiration for some of the biggest songs in pop culture, but I bet she’s sick to death of the association. Since we’re quite close in age. I’d like to get to know her as a person, considering we’re going to be working together. “No problem. I Ubered over from the office.”
“Oh, there’s so much parking.” She gestures to the lot.
“Yeah.” I glance out to where she’s pointing. “I currently don’t drive. I have epilepsy and recently had an episode. It’s not safe for me or others until I go for a bit with no incident.”
She leans in and rests her face on her palm. “Really? Full-blown seizures, huh. That must be tough.”
“Actually, no. Mine are called Focal Onset Aware Seizures. Occasionally, if I’m triggered, I’ll have what’s called Focal Onset Impaired Awareness Seizures. They present passably normal to the average person. It’s like I space out for a minute, then don’t remember what we were talking about. If I’m in a strange situation, sometimes I’ll do something weird.” I wrinkle my nose. “On New Year’s Eve, I was out with Austin and Miles and the strobe light caused an episode where, apparently, I tried to take off my dress in the bar. I have no recollection of it at all.”
Zoey’s eyeballs nearly pop out of her head. “Wow. Is it scary? Do you know when it’s happening?”
“Sometimes I’ll get what’s called an aura which presents in variable ways. Flickering. Blurry vision. Headache. Seeing things that aren’t there. I often feel a bit panicky.” I trace my finger on the pattern of the tablecloth. “If I pop a Zannie when it first starts I can head it off usually. That being said, when I was first diagnosed and didn’t know the signs I had one or two episodes a month. I went almost four years without episode. In the past few months I staved one off when I didn’t get enough sleep one night and then the thing on New Years, so I’m being careful, but my meds are in a stable place.”
Zoey nods sympathetically. “Health challenges can be overwhelming. I’ve struggled with aura migraines for a few years. They’re so debilitating, sometimes I can’t even get out of bed. I’m now on decent meds too.”
“Are you serious?” She’s the first person I’ve ever met who can truly understand what I live with. “Dealing with this stuff can be so scary, don’t you think?”
Zoey sighs, “Yeah. And medication can be a double-edged sword. For instance, for me any birth control triggers the migraines so I had to go off it altogether. The timing worked out—we were ready to get pregnant with Oliver. Then everything went nuts with Ty and the band. A rough patch, for sure.”
“I’m so sorry you had to deal with so much.” I grip her hand from across the table. “And now you’re pregnant again. Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
