Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
ADELE
Invisible scars
“Adele?” the receptionist called into the waiting area.
I jumped up from my seat. “I’m here.” I hurried over just as the door to the side of her desk opened.
“Right this way.” The receptionist gestured toward the hallway. “Ellen will bring you back.”
“Hi, I’m Ellen, Dr. Marshall’s new assistant. Come on back.”
Ellen was friendly and polite, but new to me which amped up my stress.
If it weren’t for the fact that I suffered from chronic and pretty significant medical anxiety, I might have been able to relax around her.
The moment we walked into the exam room, I started twisting my hands.
No matter how modern or nice, every doctor’s office felt the same to me—sterile, a little cold, usually white, gray, and other neutral tones.
Intellectually, I understood why—germs and all that.
But emotionally, it always dragged my nervous system back to those endless childhood medical appointments.
“So, you’re just here for your check-up,” she said politely, pulling up my chart.
“Yep.” My tone was sharp, and I forced myself to breathe slowly, to try to convince my unruly nerves there was no need to panic.
I waited quietly, wondering if she might mention my sister. Her eyes skimmed the screen, tapping on the keyboard here and there.
“Any issues?” she asked, spinning around on the stool, brows arched slightly.
I shook my head. “Everything’s great.”
Another glance at the screen. “All right. Well, Dr. Marshall will be in shortly.”
She paused, and I could feel the stutter in her thoughts. She looked at the screen once again, her eyes widening just a touch. “You wouldn’t be related to Dr. Jacks, would you?”
“She’s my sister.”
“Oh, wow. She’s a cardiologist,” Ellen said.
“Uh-huh,” I said, trying to keep my tone bland and bracing myself for the inevitable follow-up.
If anyone was wondering about the baggage of my childhood heart problems—well, there it was.
My sister had become a doctor who specialized in the field that treated those with conditions like mine.
Maybe to make sure no one else ever went through what I did.
I didn’t really know because we didn’t talk about it.
We had what could best be described as a somewhat fraught relationship.
If I could’ve waved a magic wand and erased the entire medical chapter of our childhood so that I didn’t take up so much oxygen, so that she didn’t have to hover in the wings of our family’s life, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat.
I wanted to build a bridge between us. I really did.
But she kept me at a distance. She wasn’t cold or cruel—never that.
She answered texts. She checked in with me and our parents.
She was always steady, always there, just a little reserved and careful.
Growing up, our parents had sought a life on the edge of the wilderness, almost off-grid but not quite, in a small house near Fairbanks.
When my sister left for college, she only returned for brief holiday visits.
After college and medical school, she stayed in Anchorage, focused on her medical career and structured city life.
Meanwhile, I hiked my way across Alaska, scraped by on seasonal work, and slept best under the stars.
When I first started hiking, I’d invited her to come with me. I wanted to build that sister relationship. She always turned me down.
“I’ve had enough wilderness,” she’d say.
“You know she works in our office,” Ellen said with a friendly smile, oblivious to my emotionally complicated train of thought.
“Oh, I know.” I returned the smile. “But I’m her sister, so she tells me I have to see Dr. Marshall.”
“There aren’t many cardiologists in Alaska. She’s kind of a rock star.”
“I know.” I shrugged. “But I’m in the monitoring category for the rest of my life. I’ve had all my surgeries.” I didn’t say the silent thought that always followed that. I hoped and prayed I was done with surgery.
Before Ellen could reply, there was a soft knock on the door, and Dr. Marshall walked in.
“Adele!” she greeted me with a warm smile.
“Hi, Dr. Marshall.” I tried to match her brightness. “I’m just here for you to tell me everything’s still great.”
Her chuckle was soft. “Let’s take a look.”
The appointment unfolded as I expected. Blood pressure, checking my heart, the routine rhythm of questions and answers I’d memorized by this point.
Once we finished, Dr. Marshall leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms lightly. “I’m glad you’re doing so well, Adele. Just promise me again—when you’re out on these hikes—that you have a way to get emergency support if you need it.”
“Of course I do,” I said automatically. “But I don’t need it anymore. Remember? I’m fine.”
“You are mostly fine.”
“Right. Mostly fine,” I echoed. My voice sounded small, and I chafed at the feeling rising.
Doubts and anxiety started to swirl inside, creating a little hum of tension that made my chest feel tight.
Being highly attuned to my chest and what went on behind my rib cage made that sense of tightness uncomfortable and unsettling.
“You’re done with surgery, and you really are in good physical condition, which makes a difference.” She paused before adding gently, “But your heart is always going to be a little tricky.”
“Tricky is one way to put it,” I replied.
“I know you’re careful. I trust you. I just have to say it—for my peace of mind,” she said.
“I understand.”
I took a quick breath, hesitated, and then asked, “Is Rowan around?”
“I told her you were here.” Dr. Marshall’s lips curled in a small smile. “Do you want to say hi?”
“I’d love to.” Pausing, I cleared my throat. “I know she’s busy, but, well, she’s always busy. Just like you’re always busy.”
“She told me she’d be in her office—the paperwork one, not the patient one.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
After she left, I made my way down the hallway, my footsteps light as I approached Rowan’s office. The door was slightly ajar, so I knocked gently.
“Come in,” she called.
I pressed two fingertips against the cool door and stepped inside. “Hi.” My voice came out a little too squeaky, revealing my nerves.
Rowan looked up and smiled as she stood. “Adele.” She pulled me into a hug, firm and warm, squeezing my shoulders before stepping back.
“Dr. Marshall said my heart’s in good shape,” I said quickly.
Rowan tilted her head slightly. “You don’t have to report your health to me every time.”
“I know.” I shrugged. “You’re right. That’s probably annoying, huh?”
“It’s not annoying, Adele,” Rowan said softly. “I just don’t want you to feel like I expect it.”
Sometimes, when I looked at my sister, it was like looking in a mirror. We shared auburn hair, hazel eyes, and freckles scattered across our cheeks. She was a shade taller and, in my opinion, closed off. But then again, so was I. So maybe that was me projecting.
Overthink much? my inner cynic muttered.
“I’ll try not to report,” I teased, striving to find lightness in this moment.
“So, how long are you in the area?” she asked.
“I’m staying in Willow Brook while I get ready for a trip out to Katmai.”
“Nice.” Rowan’s expression softened.
“If you wanted, you could come visit me there,” I said hopefully.
“Maybe,” she said with a small nod. “I’m pretty busy with work.”
“I know.”
I hated how stilted I felt around her. It wasn’t that I doubted her love for me—or mine for her. Not even a little. It was just, well, complicated. She’d had to grow up on her own while I was stuck in doctor’s offices.
“Well,” I said lightly, “I’ll text you.”
“I know you will.” She smiled faintly. “And I’ll text you. I just saw Mom and Dad last week when I was up in Fairbanks for a conference.”
“Oh, nice.” I hesitated, then blurted, “Rowan?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think we could ever…I don’t know…relax with each other?” I shifted on my feet, twisting my hands together again.
I couldn’t believe I’d said that out loud. My cheeks flamed.
For a moment, I thought she was going to deflect or brush it off. After a quiet beat, she straightened her shoulders and nodded once, slowly. “That would be nice,” she said.
“I know growing up was…weird,” I rushed to say. “I was gone a lot and everybody was always worried about me. I’m sorry for taking up so much of our parents’ time.”
“Adele, you don’t have to apologize,” she said quickly. “You didn’t take up too much time. You were sick.” Silence stretched, her gaze holding mine. “Okay, I don’t really know how to explain it. I did worry a lot. You’re my sister. Of course I worried. Mom and Dad did too. But it’s okay.”
“Okay.” I took a breath. “Could we—maybe—get together sometime soon? And just hang out?”
She chuckled softly. “I’m kind of a workaholic.”
“Well, I am too,” I chirped. “Just, our work is wildly different.”
She cracked a real smile then. “You hike up mountains and I’m trapped in the office.”
“Exactly.”
“You know what? I do need a vacation,” she said, surprising me. “If you’re going to be in Willow Brook for a little while, if I can figure out a time, I’ll come visit.”
“You will?” The hope in my voice was embarrassingly obvious.
Rowan stepped closer and pulled me into another hug, holding me tight for a long moment. “I will try,” she said. “That would be really nice.”
“In the meantime, we’ll text and call,” I added. “It’s not like we don’t talk.”
A light knock interrupted us. Ellen poked her head around the door. “Oh, sorry to interrupt.”
“It’s fine,” I said quickly, stepping back. “Just saying hi to my sis.”
“Your next patient’s here,” Ellen said to Rowan.
Rowan nodded before casting a smile my way. “We’ll talk soon, okay?”
“I’ll let them know you’ll be a few minutes,” Ellen said, backing out of Rowan’s office.
I gave my sister a quick squeeze. “All right, I’m out of here, okay? I won’t hold you to it, but if you actually use your vacation days, I’d love to see you.”
“I’ll try to make it happen,” she promised.