Perfect Summer by Bethany Lopez
Mitch
One second she was standing before me as I was about to propose and then she was gone.
“Faith!” I screamed, running to the edge of the platform but careful not to fall down after her.
She was laying in the creek below, her eyes wide and full of fear.
“Mommy!” Hope was crying, but when she would have moved to join me on the edge, I grabbed her and carried her off the platform.
“Go to the blanket and grab one of our phones. Call 911. Can you do that, Hope?”
I held on to her biceps until she looked at me and I saw her eyes focus.
“Hope, can you do that?” I repeated.
She nodded.
“911,” I said again. “Tell them we need them to come to the picnic area by the creek, okay? I’m going to go help your mom.”
She nodded again, but still didn’t move, so I gave her a little push toward the blanket and shouted, “911,” again. When she turned and ran, I hurried down into the creek where Faith had fallen.
“Faith,” I called. “It’s Mitch. I’m coming to you and Hope is calling for help, okay?”
I kept my tone calm and made sure to tell her what was going on. I’d watched a YouTube video on how to help during a panic attack, and I was scrambling trying to remember everything as I approached her.
When I got to her, I knelt in the water next to her and looked her over.
Her eyes were still wide, and her face was a ghostly white. She was shaking, but I wasn’t sure if that was due to the temperature of the water or the panic attack, and she was taking big gulps of air as if she couldn’t breathe.
“I’m right here,” I assured her. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe and the panic attack will be over in a minute.”
I wanted nothing more than to gather her in my arms and hold her tight, but I didn’t know if she’d injured anything during the fall and I knew the panic attack needed to pass before anything else could happen.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” I asked.
“Get … out … of … here.”
I’d read that this could happen, so knew not to take it personally, but the thought of leaving Faith, even if she was embarrassed and didn’t want me there when she was hurting seemed impossible.
Still, the video had said to take a few steps back to give her space, but not to leave entirely, so that’s what I did.
“I’m so sorry you’re going through this, sweetheart, but I want you to know that help is on the way and if you need anything from me, I’m here.”
Just then Hope came rushing over, saying, “They’re on the way.”
“No,” Faith cried, and I knew she didn’t want Hope to see her.
“Come here, baby,” I said soothingly, lifting Hope and cradling her to me as I moved far enough away so she couldn’t see her mother. I took my phone from her and put it in my back pocket, but figured everything else would have to wait until later.
Sirens in the distance had me breathing a little easier.
“Here they come,” I told Hope, who was hugging me tightly as she cried.
“Is my mommy okay?” she asked.
“Yes, she’s going to be just fine. I promise.”
We stayed out of the way while the first responders hurried toward Faith, and when they had her on the stretcher and were taking her to the back of the ambulance, I asked, “Can we ride with her?”
“Yeah, Mitch, of course,” the guy, whose name I completely blanked on, said in a gentle tone. “Don’t you worry, Hope, your mom’s going to be just fine.”
We all got into the back of the ambulance, and they shut the doors.
Faith’s eyes were closed, but her chest was rising normally, and her color looked better.
“We gave her something for the pain,” the medic told me when he noticed my eyes on Faith.
“She was having a panic attack,” I said lamely.
“She was coming out of it when we got to her, but it looks like her arm is broken. Dr. Carson will be able to tell you more once he examines her.”
Luckily, the trip to the doctor wasn’t long. I held Hope close as they took Faith out of the back and told us to go to the waiting room. Once there, I cradled her in my lap and used my free hand to get to my phone so I could call Faith’s parents and let them know what had happened.
At some point the nurse came in and put cartoons on the TV for Hope and Faith’s parents arrived about fifteen minutes after I got off the phone with Grace.
Now we were all drinking bad coffee and waiting for some news from the doctor.
Eventually the doors opened, and rather than one of the nurses, Dr. Carlson came out holding a file.
“Hello, Evans family. Sorry we have to see each other again under such circumstances … Mitch.”
“Miles,” I said in greeting, before asking, “How is she?”
“Her arm’s broken, and she has some bruising, but other than that, she’s doing well. She’s awake and asking for you and Hope.”
I let out a sigh and asked, “Can we go see her?”
“Of course,” he said, putting the folder under his arm. “Now, I did talk with Faith, and she confirmed that this isn’t the first time she’s broken this arm. It’s the fourth.”
“Fourth?” I asked, not really understanding.
“Apparently her ex-husband…” he began, then looked down at Hope and stopped talking. “Anyway, she’s going to be in a cast for a while and then there may be some physical therapy to get her back on track. But, if her track record’s anything to go by, she should have a full recovery. I know she was worried, since she uses that arm every day for work.”
I didn’t really comprehend what he was saying, because my mind was still stuck back on … apparently her ex-husband.
I’d never wanted to kill a dead man so badly in my life.