23. Annette #2
Somewhere along the way it stopped being any of those things. Without asking permission, Jamie Walker had quietly become home. And home is a very difficult place to leave.
***
By the time I reach my apartment, the sun has slipped behind the neighboring buildings, leaving the living room washed in soft gray light. I don't bother turning on the lamps. Instead, I set my bag on the kitchen table and pull the placement packet from my backpack.
Travel itinerary.
Housing assignment.
Orientation schedule.
Parking information.
Emergency contact forms.
One sheet after another spreads across the table until my tiny apartment looks less like a home and more like a PR office.
Everything is neat. Organized. Perfectly planned.
Everything except me.
I lower myself into the nearest chair and stare at the words.
Northwest Regional Medical Center.
Boise, Idaho.
Eight weeks.
Mandatory.
I reach for a pen. Old habit. When life becomes complicated, make a list.
I flip over one of the pages and draw a line down the center.
Stay
Go
The pen hovers over the paper. Nothing comes. Not one word.
Because every reason I can think of to stay has exactly the same answer - Jamie.
Every reason to go has exactly the same answer as well - my future.
I stare at the empty page until the ink begins to pool beneath the tip of my pen.
Then, quietly...
I laugh.
It's a tired little laugh. "You really picked an impossible one this time."
The apartment, thankfully, offers no advice. I crumple the paper and toss it toward the recycling bin. I miss. Somehow that feels appropriate.
I make tea, forget about it.
Find the mug twenty minutes later, completely cold.
I pour another cup.
This time I remember to drink it.
Halfway through, my eyes wander toward the calendar hanging beside the refrigerator.
Ten days. Only ten little squares remain before the date I'd circled months ago without giving it another thought. Back then, it had simply been another milestone.
Finish this rotation. Graduate. Start my career. Every step had been neatly mapped out, and I'd never questioned where it was leading.
Now nothing feels orderly anymore.
***
My phone buzzes just after dinner.
Mom
For one foolish second, I consider letting it go to voicemail. But I haven’t talked with her in a while, and she always seems to help make things better.
So, I answer.
"Hi, sweetheart." Her voice wraps around me the way it always has. Warm. Steady. Safe.
"Hi, Mom."
"You sound tired."
I smile despite myself. "I'm fine."
"Mmm." No one says mmm with quite so much skepticism.
"What happened?"
I sink onto the sofa and pull a blanket across my lap.
"I got my final placement."
"Oh!"
She sounds genuinely excited.
"Where?"
"Boise."
Silence.
Then...
"Oh."
Apparently, geography can carry emotion after all. "When do you leave?"
"Ten days."
"And how do you feel about that?"
"I..." The answer sticks somewhere behind my ribs. "I don't know."
She waits. My mother has always been very good at waiting.
Finally, the words tumble out. "I’m supposed to be excited."
"Yes, you've wanted to work in sports rehabilitation since high school."
"I know."
"So, what's changed?"
I close my eyes. Everything. Instead, I whisper, "I met someone."
The silence on the other end changes completely. Not surprise. Understanding.
"The hockey player."
I laugh softly. "You remember."
"Sweetheart, you've mentioned him enough that I could probably recognize him in a grocery store."
Heat floods my cheeks. "I haven't talked about him that much."
"You called three weeks ago just to tell me he'd finally admitted his shoulder hurt."
"I was discussing patient progress."
"Mmm."
There it is again. I smile in spite of myself.
Then...the smile fades. "Mom, I don't know what to do."
She doesn't answer immediately. When she finally speaks, her voice is quieter than before. "Do you love him?"
The question steals the air from the room.
I open my mouth. Nothing comes out. Not because I don't know, but because saying it out loud somehow makes it so much more real.
My eyes drift toward the window where evening has settled over Frostholm.
Jamie is somewhere beneath the same sky. Probably reading. Or making tea. Or pretending he isn't worried about tomorrow's therapy exercises.
A smile touches my lips before I even realize it's there. The answer has been sitting quietly inside me for weeks.
"...Yes."
The word is barely audible. "I do."
Mom lets out the softest little sigh. "Oh, honey."
I swallow hard. "I wasn't planning to."
"No one ever does."
A tear slips quietly down my cheek. "I don't want him rearranging his life because of me."
"Oh, Annette."
"He finally stopped carrying everyone. I can't become another person asking him to."
My mother is silent for a very long time. When she finally speaks, every word is gentle.
"Sweetheart..."
"...sometimes life gives us two good choices."
I wait.
"And that's what makes them so painful."
"I don't want to lose him."
"I know."
"I don't want to lose this opportunity either."
"I know."
Another pause.
"You don't have to decide tonight, Annette."
"No."
"But you do have to let him know."
I close my eyes.
"I know."
Later that evening, I’m bundled up on my sofa, across from a black TV screen.
Somewhere across town Jamie's probably wondering what tomorrow's therapy session will bring. He has no idea my entire world changed before lunch.
I close my eyes.
For months I'd believed my greatest challenge would be helping Jamie recover.
Instead, the hardest part arrived after his shoulder no longer needed me.
A tiny laugh escapes before I can stop it. "That's rather unfair." The TV offers no opinion.
I slip my hands into my fuzzy robe pockets
When I speak again, my voice is almost inaudible. "I love you."
The words disappear into the evening.
No audience.
No applause.
Just truth.
For the first time, I don't try to explain it away.
I don't call it admiration.
Or friendship.
Or concern for a patient.
It is simply love.
A fresh wave of tears burns behind my eyes.
"Which is exactly why..."
My voice catches. "...I have to let you go."
The sentence hurts so much I almost take it back. But I can't.
Because if I truly love him, I have to believe his life was already full before I arrived.
I cannot let him turn me into one more person he believes he has to take care of.
The thought doesn't bring peace.
Only heartbreak.
***
Slowly, I pull my phone from my pocket.
Jamie's name waits at the top of my recent calls.
One tap.
That's all it will take. I could tell him everything. He would answer before the second ring.
I know he would.
My thumb hovers over his name.
Then very gently I lock the screen.
"Tomorrow," I whisper. "I'll tell you tomorrow."
I slide the phone back into my pocket and snuggle deeper into my blanket nest.
Behind me, the kitchen appliances are perfectly still.
Ahead of me...
Everything is about to change.