Pressure built in my chest. Hearing her say that felt so good and so awful at the same time. She was right. She didn’t know me from Adam and had no idea how true that statement was.

You should get out of here, Nina. Please.

I swallowed and said, “No. It’s not strange. I like how honest you are. One of the first vibes I got from you was that you wear your heart on your sleeve. You’re not afraid to make a fool of yourself, either, for the greater good. That says a lot about a person.”

“Thanks…I think?” She smiled and lightly punched my arm.

There was so much more I wished I could say to her, but it all stayed inside of me.

Then, Nina looked straight into my eyes with a permeating stare when she said, “I think sometimes people come into our lives at a certain time for a reason.”

That was the truth. I’d always believed that I was meant to meet Ivy when I did because she was going to need me. At the same time, it felt like destiny in a different way with Nina. I just couldn’t figure out why the man upstairs would lead me to her if he needed me to take care of Ivy.

She stayed for another several minutes, opening up to me about her first panic attack that happened in a dark elevator during a high school field trip. She just kept thanking me again for seeing her through things earlier but said she planned to spend the rest of the night studying. She wanted to make sure to get an A on her next exam to avoid another excursion for a while. I couldn’t say I blamed her.

My stomach felt unsettled because tomorrow I’d be leaving for Boston. It was the first time since moving to New York that I almost considered staying back in New York for the weekend. But I couldn’t.

I decided to make Nina an origami bat that I’d sneak into her room when she went to take her evening shower.

I jotted down some potential poems in my notebook before writing anything in permanent ink inside of the bat.

Well, what do you know? I was a poet and didn’t know it.

What I almost wrote:

Sorry you pissed yourself.

I hope we’re still friends.

Remind me next time,

To pack some Depends.

What I wished I could have written:

Don’t thank me for helping you through.

I should be thanking you.

Getting lost in your smile,

Made it all worthwhile.

What I actually wrote:

You didn’t run…you saw it through.

Mr. Bat is proud of you.

CHAPTER 6

Past

Reality has a way of smacking you in the face sometimes. That weekend, my visit with Ivy was one of the worst in recent weeks and definitely served as a wake-up call.

On Saturday morning, she seemed to be in a great mood, so I decided to take her shopping that afternoon for winter clothes downtown. We were inside Macy’s when she started having one of her delusions about me.

Ivy was trying on some sweaters in the dressing room. Nearly twenty minutes had gone by, and she still hadn’t come out. She’d only taken in a few items with her, so it shouldn’t have taken her that long. Even though I was standing right outside the fitting area, I started to worry that something was very wrong.

The attendant had disappeared, and Ivy wasn’t responding to me. My shoulder brushed by a bunch of plastic hangers on a rack as I barged my way in and spotted Ivy’s striped socks underneath one of the stalls.

I knocked on the door. “Ivy, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Who are you, and what do you want from me?”

Great.

“You know who I am. It’s Jake.”

“Leave me alone.” Her lighter clicked, and smoke started to fill the room.

I banged on the door. “Ivy! You can’t smoke in here.”

She threw a wool sweater over the door, and it hit me in the face. “Get away from me, or I’m calling the police.”

My heart was racing because I knew all too well where this was headed. Needing to calm down, I let out a deep breath.

“Ivy, please open the door.”

She started screaming at the top of her lungs, “Help me! Someone help me! He’s trying to hurt me!”

An attendant rushed in. “Sir, you need to get out of here right now! This is a women’s dressing room. And she can’t be smoking in here.”

No shit. Really?

“He’s trying to kill me!” Ivy yelled.

“Lady, you don’t understand. My wife is mentally ill. She locked herself in there, and I’m trying to get her out.”

Before she could respond, store security came in and began dragging me out of the room.

I protested, “Someone needs to open that door and get her out of there.”

“Take him away. He’s trying to hurt me!” she screamed from behind the door.

“Why should I believe you over her?” said the burly man still holding my arm.

This could not be happening to me.

“Look, just give me a minute to call her case worker. I’ll let you talk to her. She’ll explain.”

Gina’s number was on my speed dial. She picked up. Thank God.

“Gina, I’m at Macy’s with Ivy, and she’s having an episode. She’s telling people I’m trying to hurt her. I need you to vouch for me and talk to the security people here, so they can help me get her home.”

The man spent about three minutes on the phone with Gina while the attendant unlocked the dressing room door. Ivy was huddled in the corner of the fitting room and wouldn’t move.

When the security guard got off the phone, he turned to the female employee. “Keep the dressing room closed to the public until he can talk her out.” Then, he looked at me with a sympathetic expression. “I’ll let you handle this. Let us know if you need any help.”