Chapter XXV

And I Told You to Be Patient

And I told you to be patient,

And I told you to be fine,

And I told you to be balanced,

And I told you to be kind.

- "Skinny Love" by Bon Iver.

"You're shaking."

He'd actually noticed it long before now, but he'd finally gotten up the nerve to point it out. She'd been sitting that same way for ten minutes now, internally fuming so loudly that he could almost hear it vibrating in her bones, causing her hands to tremble as they clutched at the wheel. He'd never seen her so angry — so much that Holly Flax, Conscientious Driver Esquire, was literally pounding her foot on the gas a half-second before the lights turned green. He'd never felt so much fear.

When she looked down at her hands, her lips parted in realization. She loosened her grip and stretched out her paling fingers with a sigh. "Sorry…"

But she was so quiet about it.

Michael had dated enough women and seen enough anger that he'd thought he'd figured out female anger. It came in a few different sorts, including Jan Anger, which was basically screaming and throwing things and destroying everything in her path; Carol Anger, which was composed of little passive-aggressive remarks and looks of pure disgust; and the rare Helene Anger, which was nonexistent because nothing he did or said would piss that woman off. And Holly had never been like any of those things.

She didn't get angry much — frustrated, yes, but not so often angry, per se. But when she'd gotten on the phone with her mom, she'd easily crossed over into rage. He could see it in her eyes, in the way she walked, in the tense of her shoulders and the squeeze of her fists and the tight purse of her lips that almost looked as if she was holding in all her internal screaming. She was swallowing her anger, pressing it down as hard as she could for as long as she could — being as nice as she could, he could tell. And no matter how nice she was about it, Holly Anger was the scariest damn thing he'd ever seen in his life.

He didn't know what to expect from her.

"What're you thinking?" he asked slowly. He gripped the edge of the passenger seat while he waited for an answer. She kept looking straight ahead, watching the rain rolling down the windshield as she drove.

"Nothing," she lied, and it looked like she was chewing on her cheek when she said it.

Michael swallowed, pushing past his burning fear to try again. He leaned forward to look at her face as he asked, "Are you angry?"

"Of course, I'm angry," she said, not really snapping but definitely not happy — agitated, he guessed. "I- I don't- I mean, I just don't know. She… lost him. I don't even know how to…"

The more she tried to talk, the angrier she seemed to become; but he had a feeling that he, as the lover, had to try to calm her down a little before they got home and she had the inevitable fight with her mother. "I'm sure she'll be more careful from now on."

"It was just a doctor's appointment," she breathed, almost laughing at the fact. She shook her head. "All she had to do was take him there and bring him back. She's done it a thousand times! How did she just lose a grown man at the doctor's office?"

Michael shrugged. "He's a fast walker."

Holly huffed a loud breath. He had a feeling his comment didn't help her.

"And to let him get all the way to the school," Holly continued, voice sounding strained. "He must've walked there, or taken the bus or something. He did it all on his own, with no one there to help him if he… forgot where he was, or…"

"But he's okay now," he reminded her, reaching out to set his hand on hers. When she looked at him, he tried a smile. "That's the good thing."

"But what about tomorrow?" she asked, eyes widening. "I mean, I moved here under the impression that they might need some helping out — not that Mom really wasn't capable of taking care of him! What do I do if that turns out to… Can I even move out? What do I do?"

Her voice was getting to that shaky place that meant she was freaking out a little, and warning sirens went off in Michael's head. He didn't like it when she lost her cool. He wasn't good at being the calm one. When she started to panic, he started to panic — and he was sure as hell starting to panic now. What would she do? Would they not be able to get their own place? The apartment had been so perfect and they'd just been talking about kids and for god's sake, Michael couldn't live the rest of his life with Holly's parents — he just couldn't.

"What if he hadn't called my number?"

Michael looked up at her, seeing that as she stared ahead at the road, her eyes looked a little shiny. She blinked rapidly to push the angry tears away. "What if he'd just wandered around and gotten lost? Anything could have happened."

"Hey," he interrupted softly, taking her free hand in his, looking into her eyes. "Nothing happened. He's okay."

"I love my dad," she whispered, and blinked away. "I love him, and he's just- he's so trusting, and so kind. Anyone could say anything to him and he'd believe them. What if someone had taken advantage of him?"

She was tearing up. She was tearing up and she was on the edge of crying and he didn't want that to happen because then he would panic…

"Honey, look at me," he said, and waited until she looked back at him. Her eyes seemed very trusting in that moment, so he took care to say something smart or sweet and not something offensive or stupid, because he made that mistake way too often. He was a good fiance. He could be the calm one.

So he tucked her hair behind her ear in a very suave move and lowered his voice. "I think the 'what-if' monster is running the wheelhouse up there," he said, raising his eyebrows toward her head. Her anxious expression faded a bit. "We don't know anything about this yet. There could be a perfectly reasonable explanation for why she lost him… And if there's not, we'll figure it out from there. The important thing is, he did call you, and he is okay. Right?"

Holly seemed to relax under his touch, and her anxiety started to melt as she nodded, slowly, in agreement. "Right," she whispered. "You're right. I'm getting ahead of myself."

"I am right," he shot back with a grin. "And don't you forget it."

She actually cracked a smile at that, and finally made the turn onto their street, taking a deep breath.

He couldn't believe that had actually worked. He inwardly high-fived himself.

Fifteen points to Michael-dor.

But the worst was still yet to come, because here they drove up the road to the house, where Annie's car was already parked out front, empty. The car glided over the hill to the driveway and didn't even stop to turn — that was how eager Holly was. Even when the car came to a halt, Michael hesitated to remove his seatbelt.

He watched as Holly turned off the car and unbuckled and grabbed her purse all in an instant, and threw the door open. The rain was much louder then, but still, umbrellaless, Michael hopped out after her. When he came around the vehicle, they both took off up the sidewalk, hard rain pelting down on their coats.

Fortunately, the door was unlocked, so they burst right into the house all drippy and soppy, safe from the showers. Michael shut the door behind them, sighing loudly into the warmth of the living room. When he looked up, he saw Holly's back, frozen.

Then over her shoulder, he saw the Flaxes, seated neatly on the couch — both a bit drenched and one of them obviously more confused than the other. Michael blinked between them.

"Dad," Holly finally said, sounding horrified as she marched into the room toward her father. She threw her arms around him tightly, squeezing him.

"Holly?"

"Are you okay?" she asked, and pulled back to look at him. "You're soaking wet! Were you out in the rain?"

"He was sitting under an awning," Annie replied.

The room felt ten degrees colder when Holly looked up from her dad, toward her mother. Michael kept a safe distance away, gaze bouncing between Annie's face and the back of Holly's head as they stared at each other.

Eventually, Holly set her hands on Howard's shoulders and whispered, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he assured her. "It was just a little rain. I can handle a little rain now and again."

Michael smiled.

"Are you hungry? Do you need anything?"

Howard considered this, and shrugged. "Not really. I think I might lie down for a while."

Holly nodded in agreement and took his hand. "I'll go up with you," she mumbled, helping him to his feet. From where Michael was standing, it looked as if she sent her mother another death glare — but he couldn't be sure.

Soon, they were both on their way upstairs, leaving Michael with Annie in the living room.

He finally walked up toward the coffee table, and dropped his coat on the back of the recliner. "Hey, Annie," he said uncomfortably.

She sighed instead of replying in kind, burying her face in her hands. "How mad is she?"

"Oh, she's pissed," he said, bobbing his head. "She's very, very P.O.'d."

Annie groaned.

Michael took a seat across from the couch and shrugged his shoulders. "And she kinda should be, because what the hell happened? How did he get across town?"

"I just wanted twenty minutes," Annie said, as if finishing a previous thought. "I just wanted twenty minutes to myself while he had his check-up. I didn't know they'd finish up early!"

"Why didn't you just stay with him?" he asked, the obvious question.

"It's been too hard," she shot back, looking at him seriously. "He had to skip his medication this morning, because the doctor thought it was giving him heart problems. I spent the whole morning trying to convince him he knew me, and he wasn't being held somewhere overseas, and that I was taking him to the doctor, and… It's just been awful. He's been screaming at me all day."

And he'd kind of hoped she'd had a worse reason, so that he could be mad at her with Holly — but that seemed like an understandable reason to him. He swallowed. "I'm sorry."

Annie shook her head. "They put him on new medication today, so he probably got confused and just did what he remembered — and he's fine, obviously. I don't need Holly yelling at me too, for god's sake. I don't need everyone… hating me today."

"I'm sure Holly'll understand."

At that, Annie sat up straight, and shook her head harder. "No, she won't, because I can't tell her. She doesn't know what her dad's like off his meds."

"So why don't you tell her?" he asked. "She'd probably rather know the truth!"

"I'm sure she'd prefer it," she shot back. "But that doesn't mean it'd be better for her. If she found out, she'd panic — she'd rush the wedding to make sure her dad would be lucid enough to walk her down the aisle, and she'd never move out of the house even if she'd say she would, and she'd eventually quit her job to take care of us — and god knows she'd never go back to school. It would derail her whole future."

"I could help her," Michael pointed out.

Annie gave him a particular look then, and exhaled. "Michael, I've known Holly her whole life, and I know exactly what's gonna happen if I tell her the truth — which is why I'm holding you to your word that you're not gonna talk to her about any of this."

"But I don't think I can-"

Footsteps headed down the hallway overhead, and Michael cut himself off, locking eyes with her. They both listened intently, nervously, as Holly came down the stairs slowly, and walked down the hall.

She seemed a bit more at ease when she appeared in the doorway, to his relief. He smiled at her. "Hey… honey."

Holly flashed a quick smile at him before stepping past him. "Hey, honey, just a second. Mom?" she said in a tone he'd never heard before, widening her eyes at her mother. "What happened?"

Annie hesitated to reply, first sending Michael a strict look under Holly's stare. "I know you're mad at me," she said, calmly. "But it was really the doctor's fault. They were supposed to have him for the full half-hour."

"You left him, Mom!" Holly raised her voice as she came closer to the couch — and Michael leaned all the way back in his seat. She squeezed her eyes shut as if in deep thought. "How did you even rationalize that in your head? You might as well have just dropped him off at daycare!"

"I said it was a lapse in judgment," Annie insisted, seemingly unshaken by her daughter's yelling. Meanwhile, Michael was silent in terror.

Holly threw her hands up. "Okay! It was a lapse in judgment! Fine! How many times has it happened?"

At that, Annie's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"How many times have you lost track of him in public?" she asked without batting an eyelash, shrugging her shoulders. "How many times… have you left him at home alone so you could have some alone time? How often do you just get sick of him and decide to take off?"

Michael sensed the conversation was rapidly escalating and he reached for Holly's hand. "Honey-"

"Hold on," Holly interrupted, not looking at him. "Mom?"

"I didn't just get sick of him," Annie finally responded, quite enthusiastically, as she rose to her feet. "It had been a long day, and I thought he was in safe hands for a few minutes. And yes, Hol, I have probably lost track of him a few times — because as it happens, he does have an illness, and sometimes, that causes problems. But you see him standing here, still alive, still just fine!"

Holly furrowed her brow and nodded exaggeratedly. "Oh, yeah, that's good, because as long as it's not your fault, it's totally fine. Nothing has happened yet, so it's perfectly honky-dory!"

"He's okay," Annie corrected her, pointing a finger at her daughter. "Case in point."

"All right," Holly relented, though it sounded all but all right. Looking hard into her mother's eyes, she hesitated a moment before adding, "Did it occur to you to call me? To ask me if I would be willing to pick Dad up while I was in town?"

This stumped Mrs. Flax for a second, but that was all it was — a second.

"You were looking at apartments. I didn't want to disturb you."

"I've told you over and over again that I don't mind-"

"And if you've noticed," Annie cut her off, "I've been doing this for quite a few years now. I've obviously managed without you breathing down my neck."

"I'm not trying to control you, Mom! I came here to be with you guys and to help you take care of Dad, and you're not letting me do those things."

Michael, seated down below, felt a strong deja vu at the sound of two people yelling over his head, completely ignoring him but still in a way involving him because he lived with them. Part of him wanted to leave and part of him was scared to move an inch for fear of receiving a glare from either of them — mainly Mrs. Flax, because Holly didn't really seem mad at him, which was good.

"I understand that you're trying to help, but Holly, you haven't been here. You don't know what goes on or what it's actually like from day to day with your dad. You don't know how often I'm thinking about him and not myself. You don't know-"

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here," Holly interrupted, voice a bit hollow — and Michael looked up to make sure she was all right. Her eyes seemed a bit sunken, a bit sad, and that made him anxious for this fight to stop. "But every time I asked if you needed help, it made you angry."

"I'm not upset that you weren't here, for Christ's sake, Holly! Would you just listen to me? I'm just saying-"

"You're saying I'm a bad daughter, because I wasn't here."

"I'm s- I'm just- you, you don't know!" Annie shouted, practically screamed just to get her words out. Michael's head shot up at the sound. "You don't know how hard it gets, how wearing it is on a person to put up with every day — you don't know what it's like when he's..."

Michael froze in anticipation of the rest of that sentence, and so did Holly, and so did Annie, when she realized what she was about to say and stopped herself. No one spoke then, all eyes on Mrs. Flax — the room dead silent as the sentence hung on the air, their meaning unclear to only Holly. Goosebumps covered his arms as he waited for one of them to speak.

Neither of them would, it seemed.

So Michael, cautiously, edged off his seat and onto his feet. He found himself placed just away from directly between the two women, staring each other down — both with angry tears in their eyes, both standing the same way with their fingers clenched the same exact way. Michael glanced between the two a few times, before mumbling, "Annie…"

"I'm sorry," she said, before he could continue — to both his and Holly's surprise. Annie averted her eyes, lowering her chin, and exhaled roughly. "It was my fault. I'm sorry."

"Mom-"

"Excuse me," Annie announced as she stepped beside the coffee table and around Holly, toward the hallway. She said nothing as she left — no biting remark thrown over her shoulder, no anticipated forgiveness or reply, nothing at all left over — and quietly ascended the stairs.

A large weight was lifted from the room.

Michael cleared his throat then, and looked over at Holly, whose eyes were on the couch where her mother had been sitting. She didn't move, so Michael inched his hand into hers comfortingly. As soon as his fingertips brushed hers, she lifted her head, meeting his eyes.

She looked so frustrated and sad and Michael felt his stomach turn. He reached his arm out for her, and she turned directly into his arms, stuffing herself into his embrace without hesitation. Michael wrapped his arms around her tightly, and she returned the squeeze, hard.

And in that moment, he wanted so badly to tell her — because it wasn't her mom's fault, and it wasn't Holly's fault, and everybody was just misunderstanding each other — but he couldn't do a damn thing about it. He wanted to do something to make her happy, fast, but he couldn't think of a single joke or happy thing to say right now. He had nothing.

"I'm sorry," she finally mumbled into his shirt, breaking the neverending silence.

Michael opened his eyes to look down at her shoulder. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

He had nothing but the truth, and he couldn't give her that.

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