Page 18 of Fragile hearts

“Yes, please.”

“You’re allergic to peanuts, right?”

I nod, surprised she remembered. I told her that years ago when I came here with Micah.

Cathy walks behind the counter. “What about me?” Carson yells to his mother’s retreating form, throwing his hands in the air. “I’d like ice cream too!”

“Get it yourself!”

Carson sighs, dropping his head on the table. He mutters something softly under his breath, so low I can’t hear it. He scoots to the edge of the booth, then brings himself upright using one hand on the table. “I’ll be right back.”

I laugh, rubbing my hand on my thigh while I wait for my ice cream.

“Aren’t you going to ask about it?” Carson asks shortly after we finished eating.

“Ask about what?” His eyes narrow on me as if I know what he’s talking about. We’ve had multiple conversations today. I could ask him about a lot of things. “About what happened in my garden.” I had been wondering, but it’s none of my business. I’m not going to ask about it if it makes him uncomfortable.

“It’s none of my business.”

His mouth drops open at my answer. “You don’t want to know why I did what I did?”

“I know you’re struggling with something. I can see it in your eyes, but I don’t want you to feel obliged to tell me.”

He opens his mouth to answer when we’re interrupted by a loud echoing boom in the sky. Thunder. Carson flinches and covers his ears. I grab my phone, check the weather app, and see we have about twenty minutes before it gets worse. “Come on, we need to go before it gets worse.” Carson doesn’t answer. He’s hunched over the dining table, his entire body trembling as the sound of thunder thrills through the diner.

“Carson, come on, It’s not near us yet, but we need to go if we want to beat it.”

He stands on shaky legs. I grab him by the arm, leading him towards his car, grabbing the keys out of his pocket.

I open the passenger door, pulling him into the seat. My shirt is soaking wet, a cold chill runs through my body as I wait for him to put on his seatbelt. He’s staring out the window, his eyes blank. Not moving in the slightest, so I take matters into my own hands. I lean over him, careful not to touch him, grab the seatbelt, and click him in.

I circle the car, start it, and turn the heat on. It’s a short five minute drive to our street, but it feels like hours, with Carson staring into nothingness, flinching every time it thunders. “You’re okay. It’s not near us yet. We’re okay…we’re almost there,” I soothe.

I don’t know what to do or how to comfort him. “How can I help?”

“Just keep talking,” he whispers.

“Okay. I can do that.” My mind is a mush. Normally, I can’t stop talking, but now, when someone needs it the most, I shut down.

“Growing up, Micah and I didn’t have toys, but he loved watching Mickey Mouse, so I would visit the toy shop and look at all the Mickey Mouse toys, hoping that I would have enough money someday to buy him those things. There was this Mickey Mouse car. Micah loved it. We would beg our foster parents for it, but they never bought it. When he died, I would tell myself I would buy it and place it next to his grave, so he can play with it wherever he is.”

I pull up on my driveway. Carson is still shaking and clenches his fingers in tight fists.

“I never found the car. It isn’t being sold anywhere anymore, but I’m not giving up. I hope that one day I’ll find someone who has it and is willing to sell it.”

I turn off the car, walk over to his side, unfasten his seatbelt, and pull him out.

The pouring rain soaks through our clothes. I unlock the front door, gently pushing him inside, then lead him towards the couch, unlocking our hands, as another thunder strike hits. Carson flinches again, covering his ears, rocking back and forth. “Stop it, stop it, stop it,” he repeats the words over and over again, getting louder and louder with each second. I kick my shoes off, debating what to do, then remember: his mom’s diner. She was on her break when we left.

Fuck. Maybe she knows what to do.

“Do you want me to call your mom?”

He shakes his head. “No, no, please no.” He sounds so scared. It’s ripping my heart in half.

“Just don’t leave, please. Please don’t leave.” He lifts his head. Tears are streaming down his cheeks. I sit down next to him and lay my hand on his thigh.

“I’m right here. It’s going to be okay. You’re safe.”