She didn’t want to be the source of anything negative, of problems between Damien and his wife. She’d caused others enough turmoil during her miserable life.
Existing in the streets and fighting for everything had taught her at a young age how to survive, but it hadn’t shown her how to live, and it certainly hadn’t taught her how to trust. So, here she was, about to meet her brother’s larger-than-life family. What if she ended up throwing up on their expensive shoes?
That would certainly make a wonderful first impression.
As the plane pulled up to the gate, she felt her vision blur. This wasn’t good.
“Misty!”
Bryson’s voice was coming to her from far away. Maybe it was good. Maybe she would just sleep for a while. Then, when she woke up, this would all have been a dream. Her entire life would turn out to have been a dream, and she wasn’t really an orphan, had never been with Jesse, and wasn’t flying to meet American royalty.
But then, she also wouldn’t have met Bryson…
Chapter Seventeen
“…anxiety attack. Her eyes are fluttering. Ma’am, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes? That’s good. Look at me. Good. Try to focus on me. No. Don’t shut your eyes again. Magnolia, open your eyes!”
Magnolia? Who was Magnolia? They were shaking her as they spoke, but she didn’t recognize the name. Who was this person?
Misty clawed her way through the dark tunnel, then wished she hadn’t. A bright light was shining in her eyes, and several people were standing around her. What was going on?
Where was she?
Her heart began racing as she tried to catch her breath. Tried. She couldn’t breathe.
“Get oxygen on her now!”
Something was placed over her mouth and her eyes shot open again as she reached up, clawing to get whatever was trying to suffocate her away from her mouth.
“It’s okay, Magnolia,” Bryson said. “The paramedics are trying to help you.” His voice was tense but low as he tried to be reassuring. If he hadn’t been panicked, it might have worked.
Oh, Magnolia! Her fake identity. So confusing on top of all the other confusion she was feeling. What if she messed this up? What if she made a mistake and then somehow Jesse found her because of it? They were in Seattle, though, weren’t they? That was a long way away from him.
Not too far away, actually — only a single state. She was too rattled to think clearly.
She turned toward Bryson, caught his face in her vision, and was finally able to make her lungs work. He was her anchor in this tempest of uncertainties. He was what she would hold on to.
“That’s good, ma’am,” the paramedic said. “Don’t try to talk. We’re going to move you to the ambulance now.”
Misty felt herself being lifted, and realized she was on some sort of board.
“I’m staying with her,” she heard Bryson insist, and she hoped they allowed him to. They’d have to if they didn’t want her passing out again. He was the only thing giving her some vestige of calm.
What had happened?
When they got her locked into the ambulance, she searched for Bryson again, and then he was there, stretching his hand out and taking hers.
“I’m so sorry, Magnolia. We pushed this too fast. We shouldn’t have come here yet. This is too soon.”
She wanted to answer him, but there was a mask over her mouth. Her frustration made her heart accelerate again, causing the monitors to emit loud beeps.
“You need to calm down, ma’am. We’re only about five minutes from the ER now.” The same paramedic as before was talking quietly and reassuringly to her.
He was good at his job, she thought. He had a soothing voice, and it helped.
The ambulance stopped and the back doors were thrust open.
As they wheeled her in, someone rattled off: “We have a twenty-nine year old female, appears to be an anxiety attack, no known medical conditions or allergies. She’s suffering from shortness of breath and high blood pressure, and she’s been conscious for thirteen minutes. Was unconscious for six minutes.”
“Sir, can you fill these out?”
“Give them to me, but I’m staying with her,” Bryson said, sticking resolutely by her side.
She was wheeled into a room, transferred to a bed, and then a doctor was taking her vital signs, checking her eyes, and calling out orders.
Words and phrases like dehydrated, elevated heart rate, and low oxygen were thrown out, but Misty ignored them, her eyes staying on Bryson. She would be fine if he remained with her.
Soon, she was hooked up to an I.V. and the room emptied; she was now alone with Bryson. After about fifteen minutes, her breathing became normal, her heart rate slowed, and she realized what had happened.
Angry tears stung her eyes. What a fool she was. She’d been so nervous over the visit, she hadn’t eaten or drunk a thing in two days. She’d had trouble sleeping, and she’d been a mess. She couldn’t meet her new family like this. How could they help but think she was too much work to bother with?
After an hour passed, the doctor came back in. “We would like to keep you here overnight, Ms. Linhart, just to make sure everything is under control. Our staff is going to move you to a room now,” he said, then answered a few questions for Bryson.
Misty was silent as they moved her through the hospital. When she and Bryson were alone again, she looked over at him with worry and shame. “I don’t have insurance. I can’t pay for this.”
How could she stay the night here? As it was, the cost of the ambulance ride and the ER would probably take her a couple of years to pay off. But to stay overnight would be impossible. She’d never clear up the debt.
Working part time for a retail store didn’t give the best salary, and it certainly didn’t offer her insurance. Trying not to panic any further, she took a calming breath.
“It’s covered, Misty. Don’t worry about it,” Bryson told her as he took a seat next to her bed and handed her a cup filled with ice water. She didn’t comprehend it at this point, but he knew that she was now part of a family who would never let her down. They would make sure only the best care was provided for her.
That was information for later, for when she was assured of her place in the Anderson family. Once she got to know them, she would understand that she would never be on her own again, at least as long as she didn’t want to be.
“Please, I just want to go. I feel so stupid. It’s my fault. I forgot to eat…or drink.” Her admission earned her a semi-stern look. “I was so nervous…”
“I can guarantee you that your brother will love you. All the Andersons will love you. There is nothing for you to worry about,” Bryson said.
But no matter what he said, she couldn’t believe him. Heck, she was only coming to visit them, and she’d passed out. Was there nothing she could do right the first time around?
“He’s correct, you know,” they heard a male voice say.
Both of them turned to find Damien and Sierra in her doorway. How did they know she was there? What were they doing standing so close to her? She didn’t want them to see her like this. It couldn’t be the way she met her brother! What a nightmare…
“Yes, Bryson is right. We already love you. Now we just want to get to know you,” Sierra said. Hand in hand, the two of them stepped into the room.
Misty was speechless. The newcomers walked over to her bed with a vase full of flowers and kind smiles on their faces.
“We should have come to you in California. I don’t know what we were thinking. I’m so sorry, Mi…” He stopped and corrected himself. “Magnolia.” He took the chair next to Bryson and sat down, then extended his hand, letting it be her choice to accept it or not.
Unsure what to do, she looked to Bryson, who gave her an encouraging smile. She turned back to Damien, who, to her shock, had tears in his eyes, and something more, something that looked like…hope.
“I’ve wanted to find you since the moment I knew you were alive, Misty. I was just a small boy when my mother told me the story about you, and I never thought I would know you, never thought I’d be able to find you. I am so thankful the day has finally come, though. I’m sorry — so truly sorry — for what you’ve been through. I feel fulfilled now because I finally have my sister.”
She slowly accepted his hand, and he squeezed gently. He wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t unhappy to see her. It looked as if he really cared about her — a stranger. Yes, they were related by blood, but he didn’t know her. Why would he care what happened to her? It was beyond her.
As if he could read her mind, he continued, “I know I’m a stranger to you, but I hope to change that. I hope that we can get to know each other, be a real family.”
Misty looked into his kind green eyes and let herself cry. She’d fought it, but she couldn’t any longer, and she shed a mixture of happy and sad tears, happy because this man she’d been so afraid to meet was far from a monster, and sad because she’d gone her whole life without knowing him.
No one could be such a great actor. And what would be the purpose? She had nothing to offer him. This had to be real. It had to be.