Until the World Stops - L.A. Witt Page 0,65
the time and place, but it was still a shock. Bullets could be spraying the base, and the one that hit home would seem to come out of nowhere. COVID was the same way. We were in the middle of a fucking pandemic and my parents lived in a hot zone, but having my mom get exposed and potentially infected was still like having a mortar drop out of the clear blue sky during peacetime.
Nothing made sense. There was no avoiding getting blindsided. And holy fuck…my mom.
I took a breath. “Yeah. Um. Keep me posted.”
“Will do.”
After we ended the call, I was suddenly overwhelmed with restless energy. “I, um…” I picked up my soda glass, which was still partway full. “I’m going to top this off.”
Then I got up and walked into the kitchen. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. I didn’t want to eat or even drink because I was pretty sure if I did, I’d throw it right back up. I just needed to move. To do something to expend all this adrenaline-charged energy that had me sick to my stomach and shaking all over.
My mom. COVID-19. What the hell? That wasn’t supposed to happen. How did I get this through my head? And what if my brother got it? Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Hey.” Tristan’s voice was soft, but it made me jump. “You okay?”
“I, um…” I raked a shaky hand through my hair. “My mom might have COVID.”
He stiffened. “No shit?”
“No shit. One of her coworkers is a confirmed positive, and they probably exposed my mom. Which means she’s probably exposed my dad and my brother—who has asthma—but getting tested is… Ugh.” I threw up my hands. “Fuck. My mom might have COVID.”
“Jesus. I’m sorry. Do they, um… When will they know for sure?”
I shook my head. “Don’t know. Depends on when or if she can get tested.”
He exhaled. “They still can’t test people quickly, can they?”
“Nope. My parents are working on it, but…” I leaned against the counter. That didn’t help the restlessness, so I pushed myself away from it. Except there wasn’t a lot of room to pace or move. Not with Tristan in here. And even if he was blocking the floor where I could pace, I didn’t want him to leave. With a heavy sigh, I said, “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do right now.”
“There probably isn’t much you can do,” he said cautiously.
My first instinct was to lash out and tell him that wasn’t helping. But…it kind of was. Because he was right—there wasn’t much I could do. I was three thousand miles away. I wasn’t a doctor. I didn’t have any authority over who could and couldn’t get tested, and I didn’t have access to the tests. While the powerlessness was a horrible feeling, it was a little better than the irrational certainty that I should be doing something to help. Surprisingly, the comment took some pressure off. Because there wasn’t much—there wasn’t anything, really—I could do to help. That made the situation feel a lot shittier and more hopeless, but it did ease some of the guilt.
Tristan watched me, brow pinched. “You want to get out of the house for a bit? It won’t fix anything, but neither will the cabin fever.”
I thought about it. The walls had been closing in again lately, and aside from going to work, I hadn’t been out of the house in at least a week. Swallowing hard, I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe that’s not a bad idea.” I wasn’t hungry at all, and my stomach felt like it would reject anything I tried to eat, but I said, “Maybe we could swing into a drive-thru.” At the very least, then Tristan could eat something, and I’d feel less like he was just chauffeuring me around during a nervous breakdown.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll get my keys.”
Getting out of the house again helped. Sort of. Being in the truck meant I couldn’t move and squirm as much as I needed to, but the fresh air coming in through the rolled-down windows was a nice switch.
But it was also impossible to forget about what was going on with my mom because it was impossible to forget what was happening in the world. Out here there were reminders at every turn that this pandemic was real. Closed businesses. Reader boards advising people to stay home. Deserted streets.
It felt like something out of a movie. Like the aftermath of some apocalyptic event, except instead