Hello Stranger

by Katherine Center

I didn’t actively make things up. I just worked devotedly to obscure the truth.

“But I’m rescuing you,” he said, like that made us friends. I wrinkled my nose. “I prefer to rescue myself.”

“Um,” I said to Dr. Estrera, in a soft voice, like I didn’t want to offend him, “I just don’t have the time for brain surgery.” How bizarre to say those words out loud.

“The whole world doesn’t need to know that I’m malfunctioning,” I said, like that settled it. But Dr. Nicole didn’t seem satisfied. So I added, “I just want to be my normal self.” “But you aren’t your normal self right now.” She mercifully did not add, And might never be again. “I’m just going to take a fake-it-til-ya-make-it approach.” That’s what I’d been doing my whole life. “If I can’t be okay, I’ll seem okay.”

“You know those old guys who smoke a pack a day but live to be a hundred?” “Yeah?” “He’s kind of like that, but with croissants.”

“You won’t do that. You’re already at maximum humiliation.” “Joke’s on you. I don’t have maximum humiliation.”

THAT MOMENT MUST have been so fun for Parker. She broke me. She really did.

you can either pretend to be okay or you can actually be okay, but you can’t do both. So this is my first step, I think. To stop pretending. To start being honest about my life in the bravest, boldest way possible: on a voicemail that no one will ever listen to.”

“Tell me all about your garden.” “Everything?” “Everything.” I hope Grandma Kellner enjoyed the attention. I treated her like a movie star on Oscar night. Was I dying inside? One hundred percent.

“You never dumped me,” Joe said in amazement as it sank in. Then, correcting: “I mean, you did dump me. But you dumped me … for me.”

“Wait a second. When you were helping me through that panic attack, were you petting me like a dog?” No hesitation. “Yes.” “So does that mean your ‘friend’ with panic attacks is—” Joe nodded. “An Irish setter. With an irrational fear of fireworks.”