“Do you still get like that?”
“No, thank God. Sadie Lee figured out something was wrong and she arranged for me to go see a counselor.”
“And that helped you get over it?”
Noah nods. “Yeah—that and writing.”
I think back to the battered notepad in the truck. “What kind of writing?”
“Just my thoughts, my fears—that kind of thing. There’s something so good about just getting it all down on a page.”
I’m reminded of how my recent blog posts made me feel and nod.
“You know when I said to you in the truck that time’s a great healer?”
“Yes.”
“I remember Sadie Lee saying that to me after my parents died and at the time it made me really mad, but it’s true. It is.” He takes hold of my hand and smiles at me. “You will get over the accident. You won’t feel anxious forever. Do you wanna know something my counselor told me that really helped?”
“Yes. Please.”
“Don’t fight it.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you get panicky, don’t fight it. That makes it a million times worse. Just say to yourself, ‘OK, I’m feeling anxious right now, but that’s all right.’ ”
“And that works?”
“It did for me. My counselor got me to visualize my fear inside my body. She got me to give it a color and a shape and then she’d say, ‘Just sit with it and watch what happens.’ ”
“And what did happen?”
“It would fade away.”
“Wow.”
We both sit in silence for a moment.
“Well, this wasn’t exactly how I’d intended our lunch to go,” Noah says, looking apologetic. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be silly; it’s been great. This has really helped—so much. You have no idea. I’d been getting so scared that I was going crazy.”
Noah nods. “You’re not crazy—not at all—well, only in a very good way.”
I smile at him. “Ditto.”
My phone starts ringing inside my bag. I want to ignore it. I want to stay sealed in my little bubble with Noah, but I can’t.
“Sorry, I’d better take that. Mum might be having an emergency.”
Noah nods. “Sure.”
But I see from the caller ID that it’s Elliot. Feeling a pang of guilt, I send the call to voicemail. I’ll explain it all to him later—I’m sure he’ll understand. I put my phone back in my bag. “It’s OK. It was only Elliot.”
“Who’s Elliot?”
“My best friend. He’s over here with us. He’s out sightseeing with my dad.”
Noah nods. “Are you sure you don’t need to call him back?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll see him later.”
Noah grins at me. “Cool.”
“Yo! Yo! Yo! How were the meatballs?”
Seriously?! Antonio bounds over to our table with a massive grin on his face. I now want to drown him in his grandma’s grandma’s sauce.
“They were awesome,” Noah says.
“Yes, they were great,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Awesome!” Antonio sits down on the edge of our table and I want to groan out loud. “So, Noah, you’ve been busy, my man!”
“Uh-huh.” Noah pulls his wallet out of his pocket. “Sorry, dude, we’ve gotta go. I’ve got to get Penny back.”
Antonio starts clearing up our dishes as Noah takes a load of dollar bills from his wallet. “OK, well, you come by again soon, you hear? It’s good seeing you here again.”
Noah nods and gets up from the table. As I follow him, I feel a bittersweet mix of relief and disappointment. I’m sad at having to leave this magical place but glad it will mean getting Noah back to myself again.
We say goodbye to Antonio and go back into the underwater corridor. This time, Noah doesn’t put the light on immediately.
“I sure am glad I got to go on a Magical Mystery Tour with you, Penny,” he says so quietly I can barely hear him.
“I’m glad too,” I whisper back.
Then, as he reaches past me to turn the light on, his hand brushes against mine. And although it’s the slightest of touches, like throwing a pebble into a pond, the tingling it causes ripples throughout my entire body.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When we step out into the cold daylight, it’s like being woken suddenly from a deep sleep. I squint and rub my eyes at the pale winter light. I look at Noah and he looks at me. Everything feels different. Like we went into the old warehouse two completely separate people and came out with an invisible bond between us. He smiles at me.
“Do you wanna go someplace else?”
Just as I nod, his phone starts to ring. He takes it from his pocket. “It’s Sadie Lee,” he says to me before taking the call. “Hey, G-ma! Yes, all good. Why, what’s up? Ah, OK. No problem, see you soon.” He ends the call and sighs.
“Is everything OK?” I ask with a definite sinking feeling.
“Yeah. But they want us to come back. Your mum wants to see the tiara and Sadie Lee needs me to take her to go pick up Bella from nursery.” He scuffs his foot on the floor. “Can I see you again before you go home? How long are you here for?”
“Just till Sunday.” I feel full of dread. Tomorrow I’ll be busy all day and night with the wedding, and our flight leaves early on Sunday morning. I won’t have time to see him again.