took a bunch of Benadryl about half an hour ago, and... I don't know, maybe two glasses? She's never had wine before— I brought it over. I don't know if she's used her inhaler, either, since I've been cooking y'all's food."
"Fuck— shit— call 9-1-1—" I swept Mel off her feet and turned around only to find my sister still yelling at my mom. Her dad just sat there underneath it all, looking bored as all Hell, and my heart nearly fucking exploded. "Laurie! Shut the fuck up!"
My sister whirled around, her mouth open, face red, really ready to lay into me until she saw Melissa limp in my arms. Horror contorted her pretty face, and I inhaled deeply before my narrowed eyes flickered to my mom.
"I'll deal with you later. And you—" Next to me, the nameless man fumbled a little with his phone, and he jumped with a squeak. "Tell them I work there— my name is Carl Northrop, and Mel is presenting with severe respiratory suppression and lethargy— a suspected overdose on Benadryl. Let's go— repeat everything I say exactly as I say it."
Chapter 18
Melissa
"... Well... at least it couldn't get much worse." I was mortified at the story Carl weaved me, and I pushed my palms deep into my eye sockets. "I don't even know what to say. I'm sorry I called your mom all those names."
Blinking away the colorful spots to see his confused, knit brows and thin frown, I shook my head a little. Carl reached to grab my hand and squeeze, the lines around his mouth deepening as he scooted a little closer to the side of my bed.
"You're okay, though, Mel. You know better than to take that much Benadryl, though. Why'd you even allow your dad to do this to you?"
My cheeks warmed in shame, and I covered my face and turned my head away at Carl's probing. We ignored the pink elephant in the room— that my dad had married his mom in secret, and everyone but that poor old woman knew he was a scammer. Gingerly taking my wrists in his warm, dry hands, he pried my palms away to dig into me with worry shining in his eyes.
"What happened, Mel?"
"He said that if I let him use my apartment, he'd get out of my life and never contact me again. He showed up at, like, three in the afternoon, dropped that bomb, and I— I don't know. I just wanted to get through it, and I didn't want to make a bad impression, and... I don't know what happened. I was so overwhelmed. Terry's been getting my groceries, and I can't sleep, and I can't do anything, and he just... sprung it on me." Grimacing at my own, confused explanation, I ducked my head, but there wasn't any twinkle of judgment in Carl's dark eyes. "I took some Benadryl before my shower, and then I got out, I felt a little better, so I took some more... and then I had some wine, and I've never had wine before. I'm not really a drinker. And then my dad and your mom showed up, and I felt like I was gonna die because of her perfume, and..."
"Hey, this isn't your fault. It's your dad's fault." Pursing my lips thinly, I closed my eyes and took as deep a breath as my mangled lungs could manage. No matter how many times I told myself that same thing, it didn't make me feel any better. Shuffling to sit on the edge of the bed, Carl cupped the back of my head to press his ear against my sternum before I exhaled slowly. "You sound much better, at least."
"I don't think we should date anymore." That terrible, terrible sentence rolled off my tongue thickly, and Carl pulled back with a jerk. Sucking my bottom lip between my teeth to gnaw harshly, I twiddled my thumbs in my lap as he practically glared at me from under tightly knit brows. "Th— this is so... so complicated... and I— I mean, I don't want... I don't want my dad—"
My rasp tied on my tongue when Carl cupped my cheek, brushing my lips with his thumb. His gaze softened, the crease between his brows easing some, and my heart beat furiously as he sat back.
"I don't think disappointing you in the passenger seat of my car constitutes a date, Melissa. At least let me take you on a proper date before you break up with me."