Chapter 7 #2
Her curls were everywhere. She had no makeup on. Her eyes were a pure clear blue—stunning. I had a sudden flashback of her in bed, hair mussed, nuzzling my neck. I pulled off my own ball cap and swiped my forehead with my sleeve. Was it getting warm out here?
How did this woman have the power to make me stupid? And I wasn’t the only one gaga over her. The dog licked her face when she bent to pet him, tail going a million miles a minute.
Wait a minute…what was the connection between her and my pal Arnie?
“Thanks for grabbing him,” she said.
I slowly rose from petting the dog. She was a full foot shorter than me. A petite ball of fire. “No problem.”
Brax glanced from Ani to me as we stared at each other awkwardly. “I—um—yeah, hey, thanks for the wood, Adam. I’ll come back for the rest of it after I pick Mia up, okay? See ya, Ani.”
He got into his truck and left, even though we still had a lot of wood left to load. I respected that he gave me some space. But I also hoped that when he came back, he would bring lunch.
“Well,” Ani said,“I’d better get back.”
I frowned. “Get back to where?”
She nodded in the direction she came from. “I’m dog sitting until the end of the week. The McClellans are visiting their new grandchild in Georgia.” She looked around at my wild-looking landscape, my nondescript brick ranch. “This is your place?”
“I bought it for a project,” I said. “I just moved in.”
“Tyler and I bought a house across the street from the McClellans. I loved it; he hated it. So I bought him out and decided to repaint the whole inside. That’s why I’m dog sitting.”
I nodded. I understood trying to make a place your own, only I hadn’t gotten there yet. Just leaving my former house in Chicago had taken a lot. All the memories. Knowing I was leaving forever. It had felt like saying goodbye to Liv all over again.
“Hang on a second.” I jogged into my garage and returned with an old dog leash a friend had left once and snapped it onto Arnie’s collar.
“Thanks. I ran out so fast I forgot his leash.” Ani took the loop end from me, our fingers bumping. Her hands were soft but cold. She’d also clearly run out of the house without dressing properly, plus it was drizzling. “I’ll make sure you get this back.”
“I don’t have a dog anymore, so keep it.
” As she turned away, I realized that this was it.
I would lose my opportunity unless I spoke up.
“Listen, about last night—” She turned back halfway.
I only had a moment, and I had no idea what I was going to say, but I gave it my best shot.
“I did a lot of things wrong. I-I knew you’d be working, but when I saw you, I was thrown.
And—I didn’t want my staff to see that we have a personal relationship. ”
“Do we have a personal relationship?” she asked, steel in her voice.
I searched for the words to let her know how much my time with her had meant to me.
How I still thought of her. But I didn’t know how I could put any of that into words and still be professional.
Or maybe the real truth was that I was afraid to take that leap.
The result was that I was completely tongue-tied.
When she saw that I wasn’t going to say anymore, she said, “That was a strange time.” She paused.
“For both of us.” She took a breath. “I think it’s better if we don’t discuss it.
That way we can maintain a working relationship.
” She flicked her clear blue gaze up at me. “That’s what you want, right?”
Oh. That was what I wanted, right? “Yes, of course.”
“After all, you’re in charge.” She gave me a tight smile. “See you in the ER.” Then she and Arnie took off, the dog casting me a single glance that seemed to say, What a loser.
I’d gotten what I wanted. Our time together last summer had been effectively erased.
Order was restored. No one would know about the night I made an impulsive, desperate choice. My reputation was intact, my ER orderly.
Then why did I feel so bad?
Ani
“Hey, Mom,” I said that evening as I entered my parents’ kitchen with my somewhat fishy-smelling trays and set them on the expansive island. “Do you have the oven ready?”
My mother lit up with a smile, like she was genuinely happy to see me.
She gave me a big hug, which felt nice. “Thank you, sweetie. Oh, those look wonderful!” She turned to one of the two women dressed in black and white who were setting out champagne flutes on gold trays.
“Terry, look what Ani brought.” She examined each scallop thoroughly.
“If you see some loosely wrapped ones, just pin them a little tighter before you put them into the oven, okay?”
There was the mom I knew. She was really good at finding flaws. She hated anything less than perfect.
That was why I drove her crazy. I was inherently flawed. Divorced and with my recent marriage debacle, I was the ultimate flawed daughter. The daughter she was stuck with.
She turned her eagle eyes to me. “You look lovely.”
Ah, we agreed on something. I really did like my silver sparkly dress with red heels and matching lipstick. “Thank you. You look nice too.”
She was dressed in a simple black sheath dress with a silver neck wrap. Cute. I did not inherit her flair for style either, but at least I’d made an effort tonight.
“There’s someone here we want you to meet.”
Oh no. No, no. She’d promised—no fix-ups. “Dad’s golf buddy who wants to have an outpatient center named after him?” I asked hopefully.
“Yes, the Stevenses are here, but so is their son. He’s a doctor. A hepatologist, in fact.”
My stomach dropped as I suddenly understood that she really had plowed ahead with the plan. “Mom, you promised.”
My mom patted my back. “It was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. We want you to meet someone nice. Someone solid. Someone…”
“Who can handle me?”
That dropped like a bomb. She stepped back and frowned. “You said that, not me.” She took a breath. “Look, Ani, we want you to be happy. Find a stable relationship. Settle down. You’ve been so sad lately.”
“I can find my own stable relationship, okay?” I couldn’t help being defensive.
“Can you, though?”
Ouch. This was the problem. My mother was always poking my sorest spots.
Always trying to fix me. Not believing I could fix myself.
For the thousandth time, I asked myself why my parents moved back here from sunny, warm Florida.
Specifically to torment me did not sound like a fun enough reason, but for my mother, maybe this was her fun?
I bit back more comments, because what was I supposed to do, refuse to join the party? I didn’t want to fight. And I was really good at holding in my pent-up feelings.
She walked over and held me by the shoulders. “With the right person, one chance meeting is all it takes.”
I could only think about the airplane. How I’d never expected to meet anyone in the terrible state I’d been in. Adam had been so kind to me that day and afterward. He hadn’t let me wallow in sadness. No matter how annoying he was now, he’d saved me at my lowest low.
That made me think about what he’d said this afternoon. I did a lot of things wrong. I was thrown.
But he clearly didn’t want a friendship, let alone anything more. Did he?
“I’ll meet him,” I said, “but I don’t feel ready to meet anyone yet. And I’m still learning the ropes at my job.” At least I’d managed to say something honest.
“You’re an excellent doctor, honey,” my dad, who had just entered the kitchen, said.
“Thanks, Dad.”
We side-hugged as he examined my scallops, which were now on round silver platters. “Hmm. What are these things?”
“An appetizer Mia and Sam helped me make. I brought dipping sauce too.”
“How nice of you, sweetheart. I can’t wait to try one.”
“Just take a teeny little peek,” my mom said in an imploring tone, beckoning me to the kitchen doorway. She was not giving up.
“Oh, my God, he looks like Dad!” came out of my mouth.
My dad gave me a look.
“As far as the hair loss goes,” I said quickly. “I mean, you’re very nice-looking, Dad.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
“The gentleman with the hair loss is his father,” my mom said. “Look to the right. His name is Ken.”
Through the crack in the door, I could make out a younger man with hair. Actually, quite nice hair. Like, noticeably thick, wavy, well-cut hair—actually, his hair was…amazing. And he was tall and good-looking. But I was too upset to care. I felt ambushed. Against my wishes. Plus, he wasn’t Adam.
I didn’t mean to think that. I just…did.
“Look, it’s only dinner,” my mom said. “It will be fun to have someone your age to talk to. That’s it.” My mom looked desperate and tired. Like she couldn’t rest unless I was happy.
I tried to understand that this was her strange but oddly sincere way of showing love.
She wasn’t content to stop there. “Ani, you’re thirty-three. You’re a busy career woman. Your child-bearing years are ticking away. I just think it might be wise to accept some help once in a while from the people who love you.”
So here's the thing about my mom. She's really bright. She's a go-getter, and she's got her hand in every single charity in the community.
She almost went to medical school—she was even accepted. But she married my dad instead. My dad, who built the local hospital and other regional medical centers, and got very wealthy doing it.
I am an only child. Which means all of that intellectual and emotional energy is often directed solely at me.
Fortunately, Terry came up to us and said it was time to eat. Which probably saved my self-control from breaking.
Dinner was served in the dining room, all the leaves placed to accommodate fifteen guests. I had to say that my mom set a beautiful table, full of fresh flowers and sparkly glassware. And the scallops were to die for.
The good part of the dinner was that I got to discuss the pediatric clinic, especially with Carl Langerman, who had a few million he wanted to spend on a great cause.
I explained that many subspecialists traveled from Milwaukee to see children here and from the surrounding rural areas, and that adding on to the clinic was definitely on the administration’s wish list. I hoped that would be like a whisper in his ear or the ear of any of these people who had an itch to donate.
The bad part was that Dr. Hair was a dick. “I’m newly divorced,” he said right off the bat. “I have a one-year-old and a three-year-old. You’re a pediatrician. I bet you’re great with kids. Do you have a profile on Hinge?”
“Um, no.” What a waste of a great head of hair, was what I was thinking as I took a gulp of wine. One glass was definitely not going to be enough to get me through this dinner.
“E-harmony? Bumble? CoffeeMeetsBagel?”
“No, I—Ken, I’m sorry, but I’m not dating right now.”
He flipped back his hair. “You mother said you might be a little reluctant, but that I could probably charm you into giving me a chance. Except sometimes I get a little nervous and my words don’t come out right.”
I wanted to say that yes, there were better words to use than sounding like a man desperate for a woman to watch his children. Forget about Hinge. He should’ve spent his time checking out .
But his comment also made me think of my interaction that day with Adam. I’d been pretty hasty to jump in and start talking to fill the silence. What if he’d been trying to apologize? I’d come in hot and hadn’t given him a chance.
We were able to be frighteningly honest with each other last summer, but that was under dire, anonymous circumstances. So, shouldn’t it be easier to be honest with each other now? Or maybe not, since this was real life, and there was no airplane to jet us away to our real lives.
I pulled out my phone, hoping for a text from one of my girlfriends. An invite for a drink. Or a Hey, call me back. Anything to get me out of this conversation. Hoping for an excuse to leave this party entirely would be too much to hope for.
Nothing.
Guess I would have to make my own destiny.
“But, hey, who needs words when you’re this attracted to someone, right?” Clueless Ken continued not impressing.
Why not make my own destiny? I still had Adam’s number in my phone from the summer. Why not text him? I’d just started typing when my phone vibrated.
My heart gave a thump. A text from, of all people, Adam. I’d summoned him through mental telepathy.
You’re a problem I don’t know how to solve.
Words which, on their own, sounded not very promising. It made me think of pesky medical problems. Constipation. Diaper rash. School avoidance.
But his words were followed by, of all things, heart eyes emoji.
I broke out in a smile. Another heart eyes followed. Oh my gosh, two of them. Be still, my heart!
Ken mistook my enthusiasm for agreeing with his awful comment and leaned in closer.
I scooted my chair back and quickly typed a response. I’m going to go cuddle that baby.
“I’m so sorry, but I just got paged,” I said to Ken.
Want to meet me there? I quickly typed.
“Wait—you just got paged?” Ken asked, loud enough that everyone heard.
“Is everything okay?” my mom asked from way down the table.
“There’s an emergency,” I said, and left it at that. I bit my lower lip, so I didn’t keep trying to explain.
Because there was—I had to get away from Dr. Hair, STAT. And my mother as well, before I irreparably damaged our relationship. So I wasn’t really lying, was I?
“This late at night?” my dad asked.
I smiled. “Oh, you know, medicine is never nine-to-five.” I stood and placed my napkin definitively on the table, avoiding my mother’s gaze. “Great to meet you, Mr. Langerman, everyone. Mom and Dad, thanks for a great dinner. Sorry to have to leave.”