LUCY

Elias shuts the door and I turn to the doctor.

He smiles at me. "How are you feeling?" He asks, pulling up a chair for my Mom to sit at, and she thanks him. Then he turns to me, waiting for my answer.

How am I feeling? Well, first off, I'm terrified. I never in my life expected my Father to show up months before he was supposed to be released at my doorstep and grab my arm. Not to mention I just suffered some sort of anxiety attack.

"I'm okay," I answer.

He nods. "We've done a few tests since you got here, and you suffered a major anxiety attack. We want to keep you here for at least a few more hours, then we will send you home."

Mom grabs the doctor's arm. "What were the tests for?"

"To check her heart rate, her breathing, her lungs. Everything seems fine."

She sighs, relief clearly written on her face.

I grasp her hand and squeeze her hand. She squeezes back.

"Thank you," I say to him, and he smiles and leaves the room. I turn to Mom, and I see tears in her eyes.

"I was so scared," she whispers, clutching my hand with both of hers.

I smile. "I know, I'm sorry."

She swallows, "It's okay, honey. It's okay. It wasn't your fault."

Huh. That's exactly what Elias told me.

I have to think about it. He told me I never had to apologize to him, ever. I wasn't sure what that meant, or what that could mean, but I know he doesn't like that. I remember when I said I was sorry his dad died, and he totally threw me off of the subject and ignored it.

How come?

"Why was Elias in here and not you?" I ask her softly.

She looks down, but I catch the guilty look. "I couldn't. I was sobbing uncontrollably in the hallway, and I had just talked to the police officer outside. We talked about your dad."

As if automatically, the machine next to me starts to beep rapidly and loudly. I lay my hand on my chest, and my heart beat is going erratic.

Just the word of my Dad made me panic.

How am I supposed to deal with him trying to butt into our lives? I couldn't. If I keep having panic attacks, I am going to be in real trouble. I wouldn't be able to function.

Every time I think about him, all I can think about is the fact that he gave me so many black eyes I couldn't even count them. It is all that enters my mind when I think of him, when I see him, when he appears in my dreams.

"He's on parole," Mom states, and I couldn't tell if she was happy about this news or devastated.

I frown. "But he had at least four more months," I protest.

She nods. "I know, but he got out early for being good, and he is only allowed to go twenty miles away from the prison, and he is staying in a house a few blocks from us. He is allowed to visit us once a day, and that's it."

I cross my arms. "Well he's not allowed." I turn away from her, not wanting her to see my expression. It would hurt her.

Mom touches my arm, bringing my attention back to her. "Lucy, we have to see him. We have to somehow repair this relationship."

"No!" I reply instantly, pulling away from her. I feel my heart speed up and I feel like I want to throw up. I hold my stomach and my chest at the same time, trying to calm myself down. "I will not see him! I will not talk to him! I can't!" I cry, feeling tears stream down my face.

She grabs my hand, making me look at her. "Lucy, honey, calm down," she tries to shush me, but I push her away. I don't want anyone to see me like this.

"Go. Go away, please. I have to process this," I say, pressing my eyes shut. I only hear her leave and open and shut the door. I am left alone in my tears.

I lay my head back and let out a sob.

The door opens.

"Mom, go away!"

My eyes are still shut as I hear someone sit down at the chair, and grab my hand.

I open my eyes and I turn to look.

Elias.

I pull my hand away from him. "Please leave. Please," I almost beg, not wanting him, especially him, to see me like this. There is only so much room in a boss and employee relationship and this is pushing it big time.

He needs to leave.

Now.

"Elias, please go."

He shakes his head. "You know, my brother cries like you," he states, and his tone isn't unkind, but honest. "He was the big crier out of the two of us, and I always made fun of him for crying all the time. He hated it."

I feel myself begin to calm down. I wipe away from tears with the back of my hands, and Elias hands me a tissue he got from the table beside him.

"Thanks."

"Anyway, I never understood crying. I never did, I really haven't cried, and Rich cried too much for the both of us anyway." He smiles a little, looking a little dazed. "But then our mom died. And I had never seen Rich cry so hard. And I didn't cry."

He looks down.

"I didn't cry, or almost couldn't cry, so I started working out big time. I would hit the gym everyday for so many hours I don't know how I did it. But I realized then that I could have had it easier if I just cried like Rich. If I just sobbed like him.

"But I didn't. And so I was always, almost, jealous of people who would cry when they couldn't do anything else. Me, I do anything and everything else possible so that I do not cry."

I grab his hand, only because he looks so sad.

"Everyone grieves in their own way." He looks me in the eye.

I swallow.

"Lu, I think you're embarrassed that you're crying right now, in front of me, your boss."

I nod. "Yeah," I murmur.

He smiles. "You don't have to be. Trust me when I say you have it easy. You have it simple, and I know I don't know the whole story with your dad, but I have a feeling it's big. I don't see people have anxiety attacks everyday, ya know?" He smirks.

I laugh a little.

He starts to get up.

"Elias," I say and he pauses. "Thank you."

He smiles, leans forward, and kisses my forehead that was covered in hair. "Hey, you're the one who's in the hospital bed. Thank you for not dying."

I roll my eyes as he grins and walks out.

I am finally able to go home.

Elias stuck around, while Jeanie and Franny ended up going home. I walk out of the hospital building with mom and Elias on either side of me. I still feel a little weak, but Elias offered his arm, so I am holding onto him.

"I'm glad you're okay," Mom whispers to me, but it sounds more to herself.

Just as we reach the parking lot to the hospital, I immediately see the two cop cars, their lights on, a few cops outside of them with a man in regular clothes in the middle of them.

It doesn't take me long to figure out that it was dad.

I grip Elias tighter.

He looks down at me. "Lu?"

My eyes are glued on his figure, and I realize this might be how I die. I will just keep getting anxiety attacks after anxiety attacks and that is how I will die.

"That him?" Elias asks.

I nod, feeling numb. I feel my knees wobble.

Elias whistles to a police officer near us, and the man walks over to us. "Yes?"

"Can you make sure that that man doesn't come near us?" Elias asks, pointing to my Dad, who is now looking at me.

I met his eyes.

My legs gave out.

I don't hit the ground though, and then I realize Elias caught me mid air, and is now carrying me. I hold onto his neck, wanting to lay my head on his chest, but then don't know what he'll think about that.

The police officer, thankfully, doesn't ask any questions, and listens to Elias. He keeps dad away as he tries to walk toward us. He strains to see me, but all the officers stop him and we are able to get to the car without him bombarding us.

Mom starts to drive and Elias sits in the back with me, still holding me in his arms.

As we pull out of the parking lot I don't bother getting onto a separate chair. I feel as if I can't move, and all I want to do is pass out.

Elias holds me tight.

I end up laying my head on his chest as he wraps his arms around me.

I shouldn't be enjoying this.

I try to straighten and almost push him off, but then I don't bother. I don't care what he thinks at this exact second, and don't care that I am comfortable.

Because I am very comfortable.

"I got you," Elias whispers into my hair, and I feel tingles go down my back.

"Thank you," I whisper back, and I see his smile.

It makes my insides melt like butter.

All I have is this thought:

Oh, no.

ELIAS

I was never the fighter. I was stubborn, almost as stubborn as Rich, but I would much rather charm my way out of things, or laugh my way out. That's what I did when situations came up, tough situations.

But this one, this one, rubbed off on me a different way.

Because I want to hit him. I want to hit him so hard he feels it for days.

Lu has her head on my chest, and I feel like I can't breathe. I don't want to move, afraid I would scare her off. It was like I was holding a small kitten and even the slightest movements could scare it off.

And I want to do the opposite with Lu.

It physically pains me to look at her. Her eyes are wide open, glued on the window before her, no doubt trying to clear her mind of all the thoughts of her dad and this current situation.

She melts into my arms when I wrap mine around her, pulling her close.

Mary, Lu's mom, pulls into the driveway of her house and parks. I wait for her to get out of the car and come over to this side to open the door. Once she does, I slowly and carefully climb out of the car with Lu.

"I can walk," she protests, and my heart drops.

I don't argue, and let her stand on her own two feet. But as soon as they touch the ground, she falls again, and I hold her in my arms again.

A smile comes over my face before I can stop it, but she doesn't seem to notice.

We walk into the house and I take her right to her room. I set her down on her bed in her room and her mom comes over and places the covers over her, kisses her forehead, then says goodnight.

I look out the window and realize it is dark outside.

It's weird I didn't notice before.

Lu closes her eyes.

"Bye Lu," I say softly, and I see her lips form a smile.

I close her door behind me.

Mary is in the kitchen, cleaning up dinner. I join her and we end up working side by side in silence as we straighten up the kitchen, putting all of the food away. I wipe the counters as she washes the dishes.

Then she hands me a container of the casserole.

"Take some home, Jude. I have so much, and I know you will eat it."

I take it willingly. "Thank you." I smile, kissing her on the cheek. She beams.

She shoos me out of the kitchen as soon as it is cleaned, and I say my goodbyes. I need to get home and go to bed, since tomorrow was another day at work.

"Hey, Mary, Lu definitely should not come in tomorrow. Please tell her," I say loudly as I open the front door.

"Okay!" She almost yells from the kitchen.

I climb into my car after I shut the front door, and turn the engine over. I drive slow as I go back to my house, my head full of everything that went down this evening.

I realize why they don't have any photos of the dad up in their living room.

Even though I have no idea what happened, it is bad enough to put pictures of only the two of them up. I don't want to think about what Lu's dad did that made her have a panic attack, but it is all I can think about.

What did he do to her?

So many ideas ran through my head, and all of them had to have one factor in them. He went to jail for whatever he did, so it had to be an extreme of something.

Or of many things.

My heart goes out to Lu. I had it easy when it came to my childhood, and to even hear of things such as abuse and drugs in a family, it broke my heart. A child should never have to go through something like that.

I remember when Mary was wailing, I heard something about her saying that he had only been in jail for about four years.

Which meant Lu suffered only a few years ago.

I accidentally pound my fist into my steering wheel, making the horn go off. I jump as I pull my hand back and look up to see the driver in front of me flip me off.

I wave my apologies.

He ignores it.

I make it to my house, but I don't feel like going inside, so as soon as I pull in my garage, I grab my basketball, and walk up to the court.

If I shot hoops in the dark all night, maybe I could get the whole evening out of my head, but as soon as I start, I realize how stupid of an idea this is. I can't see squat, and all I can think of when I hold the ball in my hands is when Lu whipped me in it and called me by my name.

It still makes me wonder why I let her. Ever since I was a little kid, I always wanted to go by the name Jude. It seemed more manlier and more like me. I hated Elias as a name ever since I heard it come from the bullies at school. They called it girlish, and I hated it ever since.

But when Lu said it, I instantly liked it. I didn't even know her.

She almost redeemed it.

I toss the ball one last time before going inside.

I go straight to my bathroom and hop in the shower. I let the burning hot water run down my face, and I welcome the heat. It helps me relax and when I get out of the shower, I can see the steam coming off my arms.

Throwing on some clothes, I walk into my kitchen and make myself some food. Staying at the hospital for multiple hours makes you very hungry, and I couldn't wait to eat something.

Elaine is going to have to take all the phone calls tomorrow. She might have to for the rest of this week, since I am planning on texting Lu and telling her to take all the time she needs until she can come back.

My heart almost stops when I think of her replying with her resignation.

This could be her breaking point. She could just leave because dealing with anxiety attacks and her dad are one thing, but also working? I know she's strong, but I'm not sure how much of this she can handle, mentally.

I will find out tomorrow.

Right now I am going to eat food and sleep.