WHEN ALLISON CAME DOWNSTAIRS SHE found her mom’s school bag packed and sitting by the front door.
“Mom?”
Allison found her in the kitchen finishing breakfast.
“Are you going somewhere today, Mom?”
“To work.”
“Work? You’re teaching today?”
“Yes. Lois is picking me up and I’m going to school. She’ll be here any second.”
“But—”
“I didn’t have a heart attack, Al.” Her mom stood, lifted a bag off the table, picked up her crutches, and made her way toward the front door. Allison followed her.
“It’s only been—”
“It’s been six weeks. I’m fine. I don’t even really need the crutches anymore. I’m feeling great, so I’m going to finish out the last couple weeks of school. Every little bit is going to help us right now, so I’m going to help.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do.” Her mom’s jaw was firm. “Absolutely I do.”
Allison drew her mom in for a long hug. “We’re going to get through this.”
“And you’re going to get that client today. I can feel it.”
“I hope so.”
“You’ll let me know?”
“Right away.”
Ten minutes later Allison was on her way to work, praying as hard as she had in years, for her pitch later that day to be a success.
The client lunch had been going well when a tingling sensation started in Allison’s feet. No, not exactly a tingle. More like a vibration, almost electric, that gave her feet and legs the sensation of being squeezed, then released, squeezed, then released.
The feeling moved up to the top of her legs, over her hips, into her stomach, then around her chest like a cobra. Then the snake slinked away, replaced by a claustrophobic fog that settled into her marrow and screamed at her to move! She had to leave. Get up. Get out of the booth. Now!
“Allison, do you agree?”
Derrek turned to her, a studied look on his face that she knew was an act. The same concerned act he put on in front of all their clients.
“I’m sorry, what was the question?”
Derrek chuckled. “Allison has been a sensational part of my team for a while now, but every now and again her mind wanders off into design mode.”
Part of the team? What happened to partner? The last time they’d been to lunch with a prospective client, he’d introduced her as his partner. Allison stared at the wall over Derrek’s head. Was it getting darker? It was. No, couldn’t be. Unless someone had dimmed the lights. Then the walls of the restaurant moved toward her. She glanced at the ceiling. It sank toward her. Or was the floor moving up? No, all in her mind.
She had to get a grip! This was not the time or the place to lose it. The walls continued to draw closer. Allison grabbed her water glass and took a drink. This wasn’t happening. Couldn’t be. It was in her head. Allison stared at the potential clients. Calm, bored even. They weren’t seeing anything. She stared down at the table. Hadn’t moved. Had it?
No, of course not. This was all in her imagination, but it didn’t matter. The pressure of the seat underneath her, the back of the booth shoving her forward, the wall to her right pressing in . . . Derrek’s tall, thick body pressing in from the other side. And the air! Not enough of it. Thin, as if she stood on top of Everest, sucking in breaths with all her strength, but getting far from enough.
Derrek was asking her the question again, wasn’t he? She saw his face, his mouth moving, but the sound was light-years away. She blinked rapidly. Sweat seeped from her body. Cold. In her head, not real. Imagined. Not real. Not real! Plenty of air to breathe. But the feeling was real. More real than the booth she sat in.
She had to get up, get outside. Find air! No, had to stay here. Make a good impression on the client. Answer whatever question Derrek had asked her. Close the account. Get them to sign the deal. Get more commission, more money trickling into her bank account. Had to close this. She had to take the lead. If Derrek asked the closing question, he would claim the account. Just the way he played the game. Had to be hers. The lunch was almost over. Stay with it. Come on! Another fifteen minutes. That’s all it would take.
The rational side of her brain calmly told her with soothing tones that there was no reason to be feeling this way. It was okay, would be okay. She could make it.
Her hands tingled. The air grew still thinner. Derrek on her left, closing in, scooting right up next to her. Too close. Edge of the table pressed against her blouse. Her heart shifted into double time, then triple.
“Ex . . . excuse me . . . Derrek, can you move for a moment? Please?”
“Are you quite all right, Allison?” He stared at her but remained fixed in his seat.
“Yes, I’m fine . . . I just need to . . . I have to get up.”
“We’re in the middle of a meeting, and I think we can all respect that fact. Can this be postponed for a few minutes?”
She stared at him as short, rapid breaths puffed out of her and she tried to speak. “I . . .”
He didn’t wait for an answer but reached into her leather folder and pulled out her copy of their proposal, then slid it to the center of the table. “As you can see, this is a deal-point memo that covers the major items we’ve just discussed. I’ll give you a moment to look it over and then answer any questions you might have.”
A wave of anxiety attacked Allison from inside. That’s what it was. A panic attack. Had to be. She’d always pooh-poohed others who claimed to have them. Buck up. Face the music and get on with life. Stress is part of living. Dealing with it is what strong people do. Fight it. But she took back all the thoughts in an instant. She’d been wrong. This wasn’t something she could fight. While her mind spoke with a detached calm, her body screamed for space, for air, as if she stood at thirty thousand feet.
“I have to go,” she sputtered. “Please.”
Derrek eyed her for a few seconds, then slid out of the booth and stood. Stared down at her with a bemused look on his face.
“Please excuse Allison, you know how ladies can get sometimes.” Derrek opened his eyes wider and gave a mocking smile.
The men chuckled as Allison slid out and staggered to her feet. She tried to drill Derrek with her gaze, but the most she could do was glance at him, swallow hard, and try to draw more air into her lungs than the room would allow. She stumbled through the front door of the restaurant and into the parking lot, her breath coming in stops and starts.
Breathe!
She shuffled between two cars parked too close together. Turned sideways to get through. Didn’t need to, did she? There was enough room. No, there wasn’t.
In seconds she found an open spot in the parking lot and tilted her head back. Long. Slow. Breaths. She focused on the sky, a cloud, one that looked like Hawaii. Then took a slow walk from one end of the parking lot to the other. Then back. Repeat. After her third trip, the ocean of panic receded. Not much, but enough. A few more seconds and it was one of the Great Lakes. After three more minutes Lake Washington, then Green Lake, then a small pond. Calm surface. Yes. She would make it.
She turned and headed back toward the restaurant. This was not his deal—it was hers. She had prospected for it, wooed them. She would close it. If she didn’t, Derrek would take it. Fifty feet from the door, she watched it open. Derrek and the two clients shook hands, laughed, and parted. They didn’t acknowledge her as she half jogged toward them, realizing there was nothing she could do.
On the drive back to the office, Derrek asked her for the second time if she was okay.
“Yes, I’ll be fine.”
“Good to know.” He glanced at her, his expression indicating he doubted her. “What occurred during lunch?”
“I’m not exactly sure. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before.”
“Panic attacks are common, Allison.”
“Why do you think it was a panic attack?”
Derrek continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “There’s no shame in having one. Really. My younger sister used to have them. And one of the guys in my band has them from time to time. They can be extremely frightening. My thought is you should take the rest of the day off. Tomorrow as well. Collect yourself and recalibrate. Relax however best you can.”
“I can’t. I have work to do.”
Again, Derrek continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
“Then, when you’ve had a rest and feel you’re yourself again, and only then, we can talk about going forward with the account we just signed.”
“They signed?”
Derrek gave a slow nod. “They were a bit concerned about your leaving, but I explained that you’d been dealing with some stress at home and you simply needed a breath of fresh air. I assured them they could have every confidence in your ability to handle their account.”
The last lingering bits of the panic she’d felt faded. Derrek had stood up for her. She frowned and asked softly, “It’s still my account? I’m still the lead?”
“Of course you are.”
Allison slumped back in her seat and hope beckoned once again.