Work Text:
Hand on belly, breathe in 1, 2, 3, 4. Breathe out 1 2 3 4.
I lean over hurling a pained cough. A hand on my back helps get my cough out.
Dr. Langdon remarks, “Mel I knew you didn’t like birthdays-“
Pulling away I slam my back against brick, and let myself plunge onto the ground. I need some space.
“Mel, hey, I was just joking. I’m so sorry.” Dr. Langdon says earnestly, and I’m sure his eyes look like a pup. All glossy and sad when it’s time to leave for work.
I’m doing a crap job at controlling my emotions right now.
Hand on belly, breathe in 1, 2, 3, 4.
Langdon starts forward like he is going to sit with me. I throw my arm out in front signaling to stop.
Breathe out 1 2 3 4.
I glimpse his eyes this time. I don’t think it’s the smoke making his eyes water. It’s me. It’s my fault.
With those pained thoughts, tears spiral out of my eyes. Pouring like the sprinklers that went off when my birthday candles flame spread.
I focus on my breaths. Find some kind of inner peace. He’s still there, and that is awfully kind of him to wait on someone who is being awful.
Clearing my throat, “I’m so sorry Dr. Langdon. It was really sweet of you to bring cupcakes.”
“Figured you’d like that better than a cake.”
I stand up to meet him, “Maybe next time - less people.” He tilts his head at me and I stutter, “the celebrating and singing makes me feel uncomfortable, and clumsy I guess.”
“So just the two of us next year?”
A little odd for him to say, but that does sound quite nice, “Yes, thank you.”