The Speed of Light: A Novel(55)

I smile as she holds up two green nets. How can I turn down that hopeful little face? Plus, her timing is impeccable—I spot Connor’s mom walking toward us with another couple who’s arrived, so playing with Ella will save me from a fresh round of questioning.

“Sure.” I take one of the nets and jump up, then quickly reach my hand down to steady myself—head rush. After taking a beat to gather myself, I trot after Ella.

It’s warmer than I expect out in the sun, but I press forward. Ella has her eye on a bright-orange monarch in her grandma’s flower garden, and I’m her dutiful sidekick along for the ride. I make a show of grandly sweeping my net at a ladybug, and Ella giggles uncontrollably until we lose sight of the monarch. She’s disappointed until she spots a dragonfly and decides it’s now a dragonfly hunt.

That goes on for several minutes, and by the time I sprint after her toward a grove of trees, I’m breathing heavily, the sun blazing down on my back. Ella doubles back toward the flower garden and plops down among the flowers, disappointed. When I catch her, I drop down, too, wiping my slick face and trying to catch my breath. It’s like any stamina I’ve gained from all the workouts with Nikki is no match for this heat. My throat is dry, but I croak out, “What’s wrong?”

She pouts. “I can’t catch anything.”

“Maybe we could find more ladybugs?”

Her face lights up, and she springs to her feet. “Come on!”

I smile, wishing I had half her energy, and push myself up. But as I stand my head swims, my eyes blur. I take a deep breath, but a flash of nausea hits—the final blow—and when I reach out to steady myself, there’s nothing to grab on to. My hand flails, and I stumble forward onto one knee.

Ella leaps back, her little eyes widening. “Simone?”

I want to stand up and laugh it off, show her there’s nothing to fear, but the exhaustion is too strong, it’s too damn hot, and I need to focus on my breathing until the nausea subsides. I roll back to a sitting position, press a shaky hand to my burning cheeks in a feeble attempt to part the fog in my head. “Ella, can you please get Connor?” But in the distance I can hear the roar of the Jet Ski.

“Mom!” Ella yells, and I want so badly to tell her no, please don’t call attention to me, but the sun is blazing down, relentless. So I stay silent as I sit and wait, powerless.





CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Arielle rushes over and crouches in front of me, followed closely by Irene and the other couple—two people I’ve never met before. Perfect.

I focus on my breathing, slow and steady, but I don’t miss the stage whisper of the man behind Irene. “Is she drunk?” At least his wife has the decency to elbow him.

Arielle rolls her eyes. “Irene, why don’t you take the Fritzes and wave down Connor? They’re not that far from shore.”

She watches them go, cursing at them under her breath, then turns to me. “How can I help, Simone?”

She hands me a water bottle, and I take a cautious sip, then force a smile. “I’m sorry, it’s just so hot.”

“Do you need to go inside?”

I nod weakly. “ I just . . . don’t want to . . .” I glance around at the party, where people are still mingling in their respective areas but also sneaking furtive glances in our direction. I swallow back the lump in my throat. I don’t want to humiliate myself in front of a big group of strangers.

Arielle pshaws. “I wouldn’t worry about these people. Half of them are already drunk.” She sits down next to me, wrapping up her long black curls into a loose bun, and we’re quiet for a few moments before she speaks again. “The first time I met Cam’s family, we stayed up late playing drinking games, and I puked all over their table.”

“It happens,” I say sympathetically.

“All over the giant white-lace doily Irene used as a tablecloth.”

“Oof.”

“Yep. Her grandmother made it.”

My cringe deepens. “I mean, was it really a wise choice to have it out there in the first place?”

“Right? That’s what I thought, too.” We share a smile, and I am grateful. Ella walks over, and Arielle scoops her into her lap, braiding her daughter’s hair as we sit in silence, together.

Within moments, Connor rushes up to us, kneeling in front of me with worried eyes. “Simone, what happened?” His hand strokes gently across my flushed face.

I flash a wan smile. “It’s the heat. It’s not good . . . for . . .”

“MS.” His eyes soften in understanding.

“I’m sorry. It’s just . . . this hasn’t happened before.”

“Hey, don’t apologize,” he says softly as he takes my arm. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

With him next to me, strong and solid, I rise to my feet easily, though another head rush rocks me as I stand. He wraps an arm around my shoulder, but as his other arm circles around me, I shake my head. “You don’t need to carry me. I can walk.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t . . .” My eyes dart around again. “I’m already embarrassed enough.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” Arielle says as she and Ella stand.