Helena
"All right, have a good—gosh, what time is it again in Ireland? Way too late to wish you a good day, right?" I asked the woman on the other side of the computer screen.
"A little bit, yeah. I'm actually heading to bed in a couple of minutes," Mairead said.
"That makes sense," I said sheepishly. "Well, in that case, have a good night!"
"You have a nice evening yourself," Mairead said. We both waved and then the Skype call was over, leaving me alone in the house. I let out a long sigh, sad that the summer was almost over but feeling energized about work. We'd gone over lots of ideas, and I had plenty of ideas for things to change. With the head of my department retiring soon, it was a good time to modernize.
Of course, no amount of change in the classroom would ever equal the changes I'd seen in my personal life. I'd started the year as a single mom to an intellectually-gifted child, and in just a few months I'd gotten pregnant and then met the father, getting into a relationship with him. It was mind-boggling how much things had changed, and how eager I was to embrace those changes and even chase down new ones.
I'd been thinking all day about the formal wear party Dominick had invited me to, wondering what it was that made me so reluctant to accept that change. Any other woman in her right mind, when asked out on a date with one of America's most eligible athletes would have sold her soul for it.
But me, I whimpered and wavered like a stray puppy.
Why was that?
I looked around the room, contemplating the walls that held the public out—and held me in. Between losing my mom at an early age, being homeschooled by my decidedly quirky father, and the rejection of my peers, I'd been hiding behind walls for most of my life. I'd been living in my shell for a long time, but I was comfortable there. The idea of breaking it open, of having cameras in my face and people talking about me in tabloids, it was all very new and more than a little scary. And then there was Ali….
Of course, Ali seemed to take after her father when it came to socializing. Despite the fact that her own life was so similar to my own childhood, she didn't seem to have any of the same baggage I did.
Maybe Dominick had been right, and it was time to take that leap. The media was going to find out sooner or later no matter what we did, and deciding when and how to tell them was just about the only form of control we truly had.
I felt foolish for not seeing that sooner.
Grabbing my phone, I turned it back on and was surprised to see the notifications tray was empty. I frowned; the meeting with Mairead had taken most of the day and I'd been looking forward to getting a message from Dom or even a few snaps sent to my inbox. Instead, there was nothing.
Well, I could hardly be upset if they were having so much fun they hadn't had time to call. After all, they knew I was busy and would've had my phone off. I'd get to see it all for myself tomorrow anyway, an excursion that I'd been eagerly awaiting since yesterday.
Trying my best to put it all out of my mind, I shook my head. The house suddenly felt very lonely, and I couldn't wait until Dom and Ali were back. Turning on the radio to help combat the emptiness, I headed to the kitchen to get an early start on dinner.
I got out a couple packs of tortillas and a couple perfectly ripe avocados, then shredded a small mountain of cheese for Ali and drained a can of green beans. Cooking made me realize I'd barely eaten today, and suddenly I felt starved famished. They'd be back for dinner soon enough, I knew, but I couldn't resist the urge to pop some bread into the toaster and slather it in butter and the homemade plum jam Mrs. Lauer had given me last year.
It was delicious, like I'd found the Holy Grail and discovered that it was made entirely out of carbs.
Pushing away the loneliness, I headed back to the living room and made myself comfortable. Propping my swollen feet up on the chair across from me, I closed my eyes. My problems, like the radio, seemed to fade into the distance as I dozed off lightly, somewhere between napping and just resting. I didn't really pay any attention to anything, at least not until I caught Dominick's name on the radio.
For some reason, hearing it was chilling.
My eyes opened back up and I strained to listen, trying to make sense of what the voices were saying. I'd missed most of the story, but they were going over Dominick's achievements and career. The more I heard of it the less I liked, but I couldn't quite put my finger on why.
A wave of overwhelming nausea hit me as they began to talk about his childhood in Roxbury, and suddenly I realized why I felt so uncomfortable.
When the news starts giving a biography of a famous person, it's rarely a good thing.
Dizzy, I shook my head and refused to believe it, telling myself that maybe he'd just been spotted by some reporters or maybe he'd won something. What he possibly could've won in the off-season while in Provincetown, I didn't know, but I was clinging to any fragile hope I could think of. I drew my knees up to my chest and hugged myself, trembling as I listened to the rest of the story. At the end of the piece, the anchor repeated the beginning that I'd missed.
There had been an accident. Dominick and his passenger were reportedly alive and in Massachusetts General Hospital, but no further details were publicly known.
The nausea intensified, and I just barely made it to the sink before emptying my stomach, spasms of fear and deadly dread stabbing me in the heart. My ears were ringing and I couldn't think. It seemed like my mind was shutting down.
But I couldn't let it, not while they were still alive. Ali needed me, and so did Dominick.
I ran back for my phone, forcing myself to remain calm enough to think. Calling for a cab with trembling hands, I begged them—probably incoherently—to come as quickly as possible. But within two minutes of the call, I'd run around in circles, and thrown up a couple more times. The radio kept droning on but it only fueled my panic, and I shut it off as fast as I could. Panicking, I forgot about the cab and ran out towards my car, practically jumping into the drivers seat and peeling out of the driveway as quickly as I could.