Panic

The thing about a panic attack is that from the outside one can appear quite calm. Imagine the scene. You, sitting in your nondescript cubicle, fingers clacking across keyboards echoing around you. The rustle of papers, the murmur of voices on the phone along with a cough here and a clearing of the throat there. If you listen carefully you can hear the beeping of the truck backing up outside 7 stories down. Mainly you heart your heart trying to jump out of your chest. You try to inhale shallowly to keep anyone from hearing your erratic breaths but your heart keeps beating faster and you are convinced everyone knows it- everyone knows you are on edge and about to jump into the chasm of fear. On the outside you appear fine, giggle at the gentle flirtation of a coworker, flash smiles that don't fully reach the corners of your eyes. Everyone walks away from you thinking "what a great gal, she has really got it together." You want to run out of the building screaming and rending at your hair. The panic and the tears bubble in your chest trying to escape and you adopt a frozen mask of official business that hardens trying to keep the fear at bay. Your skin crawls with the want to run run run but you don't give into it. The idea of hiding in the stairwell is quite tempting, so is a long walk maybe to Starbucks to get a drink but that would only make the anxiety worse. It's the feeling of being out of control that is the hardest to deal with. Of having to clamp down so deeply and concentrate so fully to keep everything tightly reined in when you want nothing more then to let go.

The Signing

I can hear the buzz right outside the door. The murmuring chit chat of a couple hundred people standing in line, comparing notes. I am humbled and frightened simultaneously. My publisher is next to me conducting some sort of business on her cell phone- she is always on her cell phone, it used to make me bristle but that cell phone is what brought me here so I can't complain too much. The event coordinator for the bookstore is on my other side ear piece in ear and talking animatedly with the voice on the other end- no doubt someone out on the line. Behind me sits my sister sipping from a glass of wine and relating embarrassing anecdotes about my to a gaggle of star struck book sellers. They weren't scheduled to work that day but had come in to meet me and get signed, I give a small snort at this. They see me as some sort of hero- the book lover that wrote a book...one of them who made it. Everything is in motion all around me but I am still and quiet thinking about how I've come full circle, how even though I never worked in this particular store- I know it intimately. I know these people and I know this world and I never imagined that I would be standing here on the other side of the mirror.

"It's time", the coordinator gently guides me towards the door as she nods curtly in response to the voice in her ear. The door opens and I'm assaulted by a wall of adoration and cheering and shouting. A small part of me wants to cover my ears with both hands and fall into a fetal ball at their feet screwing my eyes shut, the rest of me takes a deep breath and thanks god that I don't blush easily as I feel the heat infuse my entire body and my hands begin to shake with nerves. I smile then, it's shaky but genuine as I move towards my seat in the signing area trying to make eye contact with everyone as I walk along the line. Faces swim past me young and old, men and women. I smile at that- didn't think men would be my core audience so their presence is nice. I catch snippets of conversations as I seat myself and break open the seal on a bottle of water.

"I heard it's a true story- torrid love affair between the three of them."

"No, no you have it wrong. It's a true story definitely but I heard she was still in love with him and told him to pursue the other one."

"Well I heard that she was secretly in love with Jennifer but pushed her back into his arms because she thought they belonged together and was being a martyr."

"Martyr? Who even uses that word anymore? No you are all reading too much into it. The true love story is between Jennifer and Matt and she just kind of got caught in their story and helped it along."

"You think she'll tell us if Jennifer choose Matt in the end or Ned. I think she went back to Ned, I mean she wouldn't just give up on her husband like that."

"Sure she would, Matt is her soul mate and he was there first before Ned anyway. God I hate that she left the end of the book dangling!"

"Oh I don't. I think it was absolutely perfect how she left it so ambiguous. It lets me imagine it how I want it to end."

"And how would you want it to end?"

I wonder myself how she would want it to end as I smile at the next beaming face and ask who I should address my words to. The other women's voice gets lost in the din and I will never know how she sees the ending of my book but I smile to myself as I realize this is exactly what I wanted when I sent my baby out into the world. Truthfully, I'm not even sure myself how it turns out. I have my suspicions but no confirmation and I catch myself scanning the crowd every now and again hoping to see them, or maybe just her. I had thought that she might come but it's been so long and they don't really owe me any answers, I'm profiting off of their story as it is.

After about two hours, I catch the coordinator out of the corner of my eye scanning the crowd. I wonder if she is trying to decide where to cut off the line. My hand feels as though it may fall off soon but I keep going. I know what it's like to wait for just a second of time with someone I admire and I won't disappoint those in front of me so I bend down to sign yet another book and that's when I smell her. I freeze for half a second, my hand poised mid signature as my blood boils and my heart jumps into my throat. Without looking up I struggle to finish signing the book in front of me and then glance quickly at the person thanking me profusely. She is next, I know it even without looking- I know her scent just as I know his- they are both so unique. I fiddle with my water bottle too nervous to look up until she speaks to me.

"So how does it end?"

Her voice is still the same and I find that I didn't realize just how much I missed it. I take one last trembling breath and calling myself a coward force my head up. The first thing I notice is her large, round belly. I pause there for an instant my body flooded with envy, regret, pain, happiness and joy for her. It's painful to see her have that which I cannot but I can't be upset not when I know just how much it means to her as well and as I raise my head towards her smiling face I find that I can deny her nothing and feel so much warmth towards as my smile matches hers.

I don't know if anyone noticed my odd reaction to this woman before, but as I stand and make my way around the table towards her, our smiles lighting up the room, I can feel all eyes on me. I reach out and gently lay my hands on her belly, staring down in wonder. She asks me again "so, how does it end?" I meet her eyes, grinning even harder as I feel the baby move beneath my hands. "I don't know", I tell her. "You tell me."

She grins back at me and covers my hands with her own. I look at our hands together feeling the baby move when I notice that her rings are different. Her wedding rings are different. She must notice the quick intake of breath I make because she squeezes my hands once and then tilts her head to the right pointing my attention. I close my eyes again and take a deep breath, already knowing what I am about to see. I turn my head and when I open them he is standing there, a hesitant smile on his face. He is worried about my reaction but he shouldn't be. I am suddenly so happy for the both of them that I start crying and laughing all at once. I don't care that we are in a room full of people who are no doubt wondering if these two people with me are the elusive Jennifer and Matt. I don't care that I holding all these people up after they have waited for so long, all I care about is that two people I care deeply for finally figured it out and I can't stop hugging her and kissing her cheek and now we are both crying and I'm sure we are making a fantastic scene but I just don't give a shit. Then, suddenly, he is behind me and wrapping his arms around me as I turn to hold him back and he still smells so good. It's a sin how good this man smells and all I can think over and over is "Thank god. Thank god, thank god, thank god." They figured it out and I am so happy for them I could just burst and finally, my story has an ending.

Hi Honey I'm Home

All I can see in my mind's eye is their feet moving just outside of the sheets and all I can hear are her soft sighs- those sighs she makes just as she starts to really let go. I have closed the door lightly- I'm not sure why- and I am standing against it listening to the muffled moans grow louder behind me through the door. They never even noticed my interruption. I'm not sure if I'm more shocked by the fact that there is someone in our bed with her or by who it is...or by the fact that I can't seem to bring myself from leaving this door- from hearing the act reach it's final crescendo. Billy, our Corgi, sits at my feet watching me with those sorrowful Basset Hound eyes I could never explain from his papers. Yeah buddy, go ahead and pity me, I think to myself. Billy begins to howl mournfully, inexplicably and I wonder if they will notice. They do. I hear a mumbled "what the hell is wrong with that dog?" I'm tempted to yell back "he's got some fucking loyalty to his master which is a helluva lot more than I can say for you you son of a bitch!" But I don't say it because my mother isn't a bitch. Instead I wrap my arm around Billy and- lifting him up- I turn to walk out the door. I slam it.

Venetian Sunsets

The best time to make the crossing from the Lido to Venice is just before sunset so you can watch the golden glow come over the city as you approach. It's early evening and the ocean air is cool after the heat of the day and a fine mist covers your skin as the vaporetto chugs over the waves. The smell of diesel mixes with salt and the engine is loud behind you but it all mixes together to lull you as your gaze settles on the glowing city in the distance. The setting sun blazes a warm fire across the sky and sparkles as it catches the campanile ringing in the evening. It travels jumping from rooftop to rooftop setting fires to the gold plated spires and mosaics on the Basilica di San Marco before racing to San Giorgio and beyond. As you come closer, La Serenissima reveals that her beauty still exists even in these days beyond the flower of her youth- in fact, she is more beautiful now with her cracked lines and history. You are coming closer, minutes from docking and returning to her heart but for half a minute you wish you could stay in the middle of the ocean forever just at dusk admiring her glistening in the falling light.