Chapter 22
Sage
Rifling through my hotel room closet, I wish I had stepped out yesterday and bought a blazer. Everyone knows that a blazer is what people wear for interviews.
The golden moon and star pendants hang from my necklace, and I pat them down to straighten them. Fortunately, I brought this flower motif blouse even though it clashes with the sunflower skirt beneath it, but no one will see the skirt on camera.
I don’t know why I’m fretting about the interview anyway. It’s not like I want the job. I promised Professor Fox that I would do it, and it would be rude of me to decline.
Resigned, I check the camera and microphone on my laptop, and both are in working order.
I push my hair off my shoulders, but it just falls back again. So, I reach for a scrunchie on the bedside table and tie my curls back. There. That’s better.
I have two minutes until it’s time to log in. While I check my teeth through the camera, I see my messy bed in the background. Quickly, I rotate the laptop until it’s just the curtains and an armchair in sight.
Inhaling deeply, I check the time and log in.
No one is on the call yet, so I wait patiently, despite the adrenaline racing through my veins.
Relax, Sage. There’s no reason to be nervous.
I rub my worry stone to calm myself, and I finally feel my heartbeat slowing down.
Just in time, as Professor Fox has logged in. “Good morning, Ms. Summers. How are you?”
“I’m great, Professor Fox.”
“Please, call me Garrett.”
I nod, as the name does not slip easily through my lips.
A woman and two other men appear in boxes next to Professor Fox and introduce themselves.
“Thank you for taking the time to meet with us, Sage. I understand you’re in Los Angeles,” says the man with black-rimmed glasses who introduced himself as Dr. Kevin Mackie.
“Yes, I am. I appreciate you accommodating the interview through video.”
“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” he says. “So, tell us a bit about yourself and why you are interested in this position.”
While I prepared an answer to this question, my heart holds back and my response is admittedly a little lifeless. I can tell the interviewers are unimpressed and Professor Fox’s smile falters a little.
“To give you a bit of background about the position,” continues Dr. Mackie despite my lackluster response. “It would require you to study physical rehabilitation methods at the hospital, assess treatment effectiveness of patients, and develop new techniques to improve patient outcomes.”
“And this will only be done through observation?” I ask, even though I already assume it to be the case.
“No, not at all. We will conduct clinical trials, analyze patient data, and collaborate with healthcare professionals to advance physiotherapy practices within the hospital.”
I didn’t expect that answer. It intrigues me to learn that the position would be a collaborative one with a multitude of healthcare professionals and won’t just collect data but implement it as well.
I assumed this research was knowledge based, but hearing that it is intended to be put into practice at the hospital excites me.
“How quickly would the implementation happen?” I ask cautiously, keeping my voice calm.
“Immediately, if all professionals agree. If we see a pattern and think it can work for the patient, with their consent, we will go ahead and try it.”
My heart races at the possibility of leading research and experimenting with new methods to treat people and heal them. Not just talk or theorize about it but actually help them. I ask a few more questions that are quickly answered and Professor Fox’s smile returns.
“How many weeks or months of the year would this position require me to be in New York?” I ask.
Dr. Mackie’s eyebrows pull together, looking a little confused. When he doesn’t reply right away, his colleague Dr. Miranda Lewis says, “Well, other than your vacation weeks, you’re required to be in New York the entire time. Is that a problem?”
It is on the tip of my tongue to say yes, but Professor Fox chimes in. “Is there potential to do some of the research off site?”
Dr. Mackie shakes his head, but Dr. Lewis is the one who answers. “Not at this time.”
“I see,” I say. “In that case, I must tell you that I am not looking to relocate.”
Dr. Mackie purses his lips and crosses his arms over his chest. “This would be an incredible opportunity for someone like yourself so soon out of graduate school.”
“Yes, I am well aware.”
“Ms. Summers. Based on Professor Fox’s recommendation, your questions today, and your research paper for your thesis, you are exactly the sort of candidate we are looking for.
However, if it is not the right fit for you, we understand.
We will be making our decision in the next few weeks.
Should anything change, please let us know. ”
“Thank you. I appreciate you considering me for this position, and if there is any remote work in the future, please do keep me in mind.”
I could swear Dr. Mackie mumbled something under his breath when I mentioned remote, but it wasn’t audible.
I understand how difficult it would be to work remotely in this type of position.
I would need to see the patients and work with them, but I can’t imagine leaving the Falls.
So, that is the end of it. Something else will come up. I’m sure of it.
I change my blouse and throw on a tank top before heading off to meet Casey at his apartment.
He’s waiting for me outside when I turn the corner.
He’s wearing shorts, a light hoodie and a Jets baseball cap.
A smile creeps on his face when he spots me and he jogs over.
“Hey,” he says and there’s an awkward pause as I feel like he’s about to lean in and kiss me.
He does, only his lips find my cheek. “How did your interview go?”
I shrug. “Okay. We realized I’m not the right fit.”
“Really? That’s too bad.”
Wanting to change the subject, I turn around. “You’re up and ready early this morning.”
He stretches his arms in a windmill fashion and smiles. “I thought maybe we could adventure as far as the boardwalk.”
The suggestion is exactly what I needed to hear. “A walk near the ocean sounds perfect.”
He looks at my skirt and sandals. “Do you need to change?”
“Nope. I’m perfectly comfortable walking in this.”
“Okay, great.”
He takes my hand and we walk toward the street. His palm is warm but not sweaty and it comforts me as I look around.
The air is clear, there’s no fog this morning, and the breeze is just cool enough that I don’t need to pull my hair back.
Casey sets a quick pace, but I easily keep up. I haven’t worked out since arriving in L.A. except for some yoga poses in the morning. We pass by some shops, but Casey doesn’t turn to look at them, so I ignore the jangling windchimes and jewelry displays that call my name.
“I spoke to my parents today.”
“You did? That’s good.”
“Yes. They were happy to hear my voice. I think they’re being a bit dramatic about it, but I get it. My mother said something strange, though.”
“She did?”
“Yup. She told me to say hello to you.”
My eyes widen. “You’re lying!”
He chuckles. “I’m not. I told her how you’ve helped me feel better and she nearly dropped the phone. When she recovered, she asked me to give you her best.”
“Whoa. I don’t know what to say. It feels like I’ve mastered a yoga level that’s never been achieved before.”
He laughs harder and shakes his head. “Come on, we’re almost there.”
He has this determined look on his face, and he doesn’t slow down until the buildings clear and there’s nothing but the greyish blue Pacific Ocean in front of us.
The waves aren’t particularly tall today. I’ve seen them as high as eight feet. These are closer to four and no more than a foot when they finally crash against the sand and rocks.
“The sound of the ocean has always soothed me,” says Casey as we stop to stare at the waves.
“It does for a lot of people. I know Jane listened to tapes of the ocean when she was pregnant with her kids and wanted to relax.”
“Yeah. But nothing beats the real thing.”
We walk along the boardwalk, hand in hand, the wind through my hair and not a thought in my head. It’s serene and invigorating at the same time, much like a yoga session.
Creases stretch across Casey’s forehead, and I wonder what’s on his mind. Keeping silent, I wait to see if he will say something, but instead the lines only deepen.
“What are you thinking about?” I finally ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“I may not know everything about you, Casey Tucker, but I know when you’re lying.”
He smiles and looks away toward the ocean. I want to push but I get the feeling that he will only retreat if I do, so I fidget with my fingers and wait.
“I’m just thinking about baseball.”
“Ah, I should have guessed that.”
He smiles again.
“What about baseball?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the feeling I get every time I step on the mound.
The rush of the water reminds me of the rush I feel when my adrenaline is pumping, and I know it’s just me and the batter.
One of us will win and one of us will lose, and I never know until it happens.
Even if the odds are in my favor, my opponent can always surprise me.
And it is that unexpected rivalry that gets my blood going every time. ”
“That sounds exciting.”
“It is.” He stops and stares at the waves again.
“It makes me feel alive. Like I am a god on this earth. That sounds so arrogant, I know, but there’s no feeling quite like it.
” He squeezes my hand and I can’t help but lose myself in his joy.
It seeps from his smile to his fingers, straight through my hand.
“Then why don’t you try and go back?”
His smile falters and it feels as though a wave has pulled me under. I worry that I’ve said the wrong thing. And maybe I have.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Nothing worth having ever is.”
“Sage, please.”
“What?”
“How can you stand there and say that when you won’t take a job that’s clearly perfect for you?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“I told you. I don’t want to leave Cedar Brook Falls.”
He scoffs and it irritates me. “Don’t change the subject. Are you scared you’ll get hit again? I told you, the chances of that happening again—”
“I get it. But what if it’s more than that? What if I go back and I can’t pitch? What if all this time off has set me back and I step on that mound and I suck? Then what? No, I can’t do it.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
He stares at me, his blue eyes as turbulent as the ocean behind him. “Why are you pushing this?”
“Because I think you want to play again.”
“Of course, I do! But didn’t you just hear me?”
“I heard, but I don’t understand it. If you suck, then you stop playing. You’re no worse off than you are now. What else are you scared of?”
He inhales sharply and looks up at the sky. “Let’s just leave it.”
I step in front of him and put my hand in his chest. “What are you afraid of, Casey?”
“I’m afraid of finding out what happens if I fail. Not only do I lose my career, but I lose the respect of my family, my friends, my teammates.”
“What? Why would you think that?”
“My whole life is baseball. It’s all I’ve ever done.
It’s what people see when they look at me.
I’m not the smart one, or the guy who fixes things.
I’m not the sensitive one. I’m the star athlete from Cedar Brook High.
The Cy Young-winning pitcher of the Los Angeles Jets.
When I went back to Cedar Brook Falls, they didn’t give me a homecoming party because I’m a regular guy who happened to come back.
They threw a homecoming party for the best pitcher in the league.
That’s who they care about. No one cares about me.
Without baseball, who am I, Sage? I’m nothing. ”
The pain in his voice cuts me deeply. It digs its claws into my heart and tears it apart. I cannot fathom that he believes this to be true.
I shake my head. “Casey…”
“Please don’t try to say something like that’s not true. You haven’t been in my shoes. You haven’t seen the looks I’ve seen or have had the conversations I’ve had. So, please spare me the platitudes.”
I swallow everything I was about to say, and it nearly chokes me. “Okay,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
He puts his hand in mine, and we continue walking along the boardwalk. I shiver when a cool breeze whispers against my naked arms, and Casey pulls me into his side. I close my eyes and breathe in his spicy cologne.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
My stomach is in knots, but I nod anyway.
There’s so much on my mind and I don’t know how to express any of it.
I don’t know how he’ll receive it. So, I wrap my arm around his waist and show him that I’m here to listen, even if there’s so much more I want to say.
But I hold back my persistent thoughts, and I reflect on what he said.