by Katie Cross
I thought about my conversation with Dad and shoved my phone deep into my pocket.
“We’re leaving at two,” Justin said once we’d parked, the lights on his Jeep flashing. “Just meet us at the bar?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
He flashed me a quick grin before turning away, strolling down the street with Gary and Troy. My stomach dropped. Nathan’s face fluttered through my mind briefly, but the sight of Justin’s adorable dimple edged it out.
I wandered between the stalls in the farmers market, running my fingers over fresh squash and strawberries, laughing with the locals and using cash from Mark to buy sun-ripened veggies. After perusing a stand with Native American jewelry, I left the crowded square to find a coffee shop. Most of the local stores were too touristy for my taste. Comic black-bear knickknacks. Cheesy t-shirts. Photos of wildlife.
Just when I ducked into a coffee shop, my phone vibrated. A picture of Lexie’s face filled the screen. I pressed the phone to my ear.
“Hey, Lex. How—”
“He proposed!”
I stopped in the middle of the shop.
“Shut. Up.”
“I know!” She squealed. I could picture her jumping up and down, blonde ponytail waving on top of her bed. “I can’t belieeeeeve it!”
My mouth worked up and down in disbelief.
“I’m dying,” she said. “I’m so excited I’m not even hungry. Can you believe it? There is something on this planet that’s bigger to me than food.”
“Your diamond ring, I’m assuming?”
“No.” She snorted. “Okay, well … maybe. It’s so sparkly!”
“Tell me everything!” I said, recovering my wits. “I want the whole story!”
“Well, I certainly didn’t call to talk about how I missed three workouts this week. Are you ready for this?”
I lowered myself onto a chair.
“Ready.”
“So, I was walking home from work—I know, I know. It’s so unlike me to walk to work. But Bitsy’s been on an exercise rampage since you left, so if I walk to work she counts the miles as my workout, and I’ve actually really started to look forward—”
“Lexie…” I growled.
“Story. Right. Anyway, it’s nothing big. You know Bradley isn’t going to draw attention to himself, and all I ever want is food. I was just getting dressed to go to a yoga class with Bitsy when the doorbell rang. I answered it wearing my favorite yoga pants, I might add, and feeling very svelte and thinnerized by the black material. Bradley was standing there on the porch.”
“Did you know he was coming?”
“No.”
“Did you scream?”
“Well, yes, but only because he was holding a box of those gourmet cupcakes from the new bakery. Okay, it wasn’t a scream, per se. More of a hungry bellow. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy to see him. But really happy to see those cupcakes.”
“Did he get the Oreo Lover’s Delight?”
“Did he ever.” She sighed. “Like half a dozen. So, anyway, I opened the box and went right in. I mean, what goes better before a workout than a big pile of cake and frosting?”
“Ideal pre-workout food.”
“Moments before I bit into it, I noticed a sparkle on top of the cupcake. It was the ring! I almost swallowed it whole.”
“A true disaster.”
“He would have had to buy another one because I would not have fished for it. Anyway, at that point, my eyes saw the ring, but my brain didn’t register it. So I just stared at it for, like, I don’t know, a minute? Which was perfect because then I looked over and Bradley was on one knee.”
“Was he nervous?” I asked.
“Trembling. He was wearing those stupid old cargo shorts and a football jersey. The boy needs a fashion intervention. Not that I’m one to talk. I just figured out that kitten heels have nothing to do with cats.”
An old woman ambling by shot me a glare when I laughed out loud. The image of Lexie going in for a cupcake while Bradley proposed in grungy, old college clothes made my eyes water. I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand.
“Oh, Lexie. That’s wonderful.”
“It really is. I never thought I’d get married. I dreamed of it, sure. But to actually get married? Seems pretty wild.” She paused. “I’m thinking Bundt cake at the reception. Or cupcakes. Maybe cake pops, but that feels too progressive.”
“Does it have to be cake?”
“I’m not going to answer that. I think I’ll write Little Debbie about catering options. Nothing would be more appropriate. Can you imagine a pile of cosmic brownies topped with one of those bride-and-grooms? Stahp! I can’t think about it anymore. I’m getting all swoony.”
“Have you told your mom?”
“She wept. She almost loves Bradley more than me.”
“Bitsy?”
“Haven’t told her yet.” Even through the phone, I could sense Lexie’s grimace. “Not sure how that’s going to go. I’m going to buy her a green smoothie and tell her after yoga, when she’s all zen.”
“She’ll be happy for you, Lex.”
“I know. She just hates change.”
“So, what’ll happen after you get married?”
“Sex. Definitely sex. Lots of sex. In the dark. And maybe while I’m fully clothed. I have these love handles that I’m a little insecure about. But he’s gorgeous, so I want him butt naked.”
I rolled my eyes. “But what about after the honeymoon? What comes next for you?”
She paused. “Uh … not sure.”
Her hesitation said it all.
“You’re going to move, aren’t you?” I asked. The heaviness I’d felt when Lexie announced they’d gone ring shopping returned. Of all the best friends I’d lost to the world of marriage, I’d miss Lexie most.
“It, ah, seems likely, yes. Does that upset you?”
I swallowed. Yes, it upsets me! But I’d never tell her that.
“No. Not at all! Lexie, you’re going to be married. Of course you would move. You and Bradley are going to make cute little babies and live in a house with a fence and—” A lump of emotion built in my throat. “It’s going to be wonderful.”
She sighed, seeming relieved. “We will have beautiful children. But whenever I get pregnant, I’m going to hold water like a cow.”
I chuckled quietly at first, then with increasing volume until both of us were rolling with laughter. Hilarity helped stave off the disorientation. Why hadn’t Nathan and I worked out? Was there something wrong with me that fractured all of my relationships?
“Anyway,” Lexie said, “I have to go make some phone calls and avoid the four cupcakes waiting for me in the kitchen.”
Grateful for some time and space to think, I nodded.
“Yes. Of course. I’m honored to rank above them. Go make your phone calls, bride. And congrats, Lex. You and Bradley are going to be very happy together.”
“We better,” she muttered. “Or those Oreo cupcakes are going down this hatch for nothing.”
Bought you a drink at the coffee shop, I texted Mom after finishing at the cafe. Are you off saving a life?
Nope! Come see me. I hope it involves chocolate?
Always. See you in the lobby.
Drinks in hand, I slipped into St. John’s Medical Hospital in downtown Jackson City. A cheery receptionist greeted me just as Mom stepped off the elevator.
“Great timing,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Just got off the bird a while ago. We had to transport to Idaho.”
“Lowlanders again?”
She winked. “Always. C’mon. Let’s sit at a table outside.”
The sun streamed through a few quaking aspens, warming sections of my t-shirt when we settled onto a bench. The leaves fluttered like green coins on the wind, clattering together in a light applause.
“Hot chocolate over ice.” She sighed after a long draw on her straw. “It’s a happy thing.”
“I would have gotten a bigger size, b
ut I didn’t have enough money on my gift card.”
“This is perfect and delicious.”
Speaking of gift cards, I thought. How about you loan me five hundred dollars?
I chewed on my straw while Mom prattled about her shift. Her tan skin glowed, and her eyes sparkled. She looked like a totally different person than the woman I’d seen two weeks ago. I harbored a careful hope that it had something to do with reconciling with Dad. Maybe their counseling sessions had improved?
“Wish you had been there, Meg.” She snapped her fingers. “You would have had that IV the first time.”
I leaned back against the bench. “You seem happy, Mom.”
She bit her bottom lip. “When I’m at work, I really am. Listen, I should apologize for falling apart on you last time.”
“No, it’s fine. Listen, Mom, I wanted to talk to—”
“It’s just … it’s all so complicated these days.” She released a sharp breath, hot and fast. “Why does life get harder? I’m in my fifties. Shouldn’t I be settling into grandkids and retirement?”
“Whoa, whoa.”
She held up a hand. “Rhetorical, don’t worry. I just don’t get why life has to complicate itself.”
“Good question,” I muttered.
Mom glanced down at her fidgeting fingers. “Your father and I met up the other day at the coffee shop to talk outside of counseling.”
Any hope of talking about my debts faded. My stomach clenched, bracing for another blow.
Please be good news.
“How’d it go?” I asked. If she noticed my forced nonchalance, she didn’t let on.
“Fine. Well … awkward. And tense. We both had to miss our counseling appointment last week, but we’re going to go again this week.”
“That’s good, right?”
The thread of longing in my tone couldn’t be denied.
“I think so,” she said with a rueful breath. “We fought for a while, of course. Over something stupid that I can’t even remember. I’ve been able to pick up some extra shifts at work, so that helps a little. If I think too much, I get sad, so I put it in the back of my head and work. Work helps a lot.”
“Has it?”
She turned, lips pouting. “What do you mean?”
I scrambled to explain, then realized that I didn’t even know what I meant. Something lurked just out of reach in my mind, like a dark thought I couldn’t quite latch onto. Mom didn’t really seem like she was working. It seemed like she was … escaping.
“I don’t know. Just ignore me.”
She slurped her hot chocolate. “Have you seen your dad yet?”
“I visited him a couple of days ago.”
“And?”
Her voice elevated a little too far. I moved to sip my iced tea but ended up just playing with the straw. The nausea in my stomach made it difficult to drink.
“Didn’t go well.”
Her shoulders softened. “Did he get mad?”
“Kind of. But I pushed him into it.”
Mom sat back and rolled her eyes. “He has a temper, that’s for sure.”
“When did you fall out of love with him?” I asked, blithely ignoring her question. “How did it happen?”
Her back stiffened. “He said we fell out of love?”
“Well … yes, but Mom, I’m not an idiot. It’s what I’ve observed.”
“Oh.”
“Please tell me there’s some kind of hope.”
She folded her arms across her middle as if chilled despite the hot, dry air. “I don’t know, Meg. There’s a lot of water under that bridge.”
“He said … that you didn’t want him anymore.”
“He’s right.”
I winced, feeling the pain all the way into my bones.
“I don’t want him as he is and has been for years now. Cold. Aloof. Indifferent. He refuses to do things with me. Only wants to hunt and fish. If that’s who he is, I don’t want anything to do with it. Your father isn’t the same man I married years ago.”
“I see,” I said, although I didn’t. Not at all.
Of course he isn’t, I wanted to say. Thirty years of life separates you from that guy!
Despite her attempt at being brave, pain laced her words. I could feel it rolling off her. I closed my eyes. What did I know about marriage or relationships? All of mine had failed. A gigantic cloud, tufted like marshmallow puff, drifted over the sun, casting a long shadow. I rubbed my arms.
Mom wrapped an arm around me.
“Megan, I’m grateful you have a solid career. Look at the situation I’m in: A marriage turned cold. Facing retirement. A possible…” She swallowed. “A possible divorce at fifty years old. Without my job, I’d have no way to sustain myself.”
My heart felt heavy. It all seemed so jumbled and confusing. What if Mom hadn’t had such dedication to her job? Or Dad to his hobbies? Was there a way to straddle the necessary and the desired? Had my career aspirations caused my failed relationships? I cleared my throat, not ready to go there.
“So, Lexie’s engaged,” I said. “Bradley just asked.”
Mom’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s fantastic! How did it happen?”
I grinned. “With Oreo cupcakes.”
“I’ve got to hear this.”
The sun came out from behind the puffy cloud, warming me again. Mom and I dissolved into laughter as I recounted Lexie’s near tragedy. The darkness I sensed on the horizon abated. For a few minutes, I could almost forget the issues we were facing. I drank in the freedom. The laughter.
Right then, I was just a daughter, and Mom was just a mom, and nothing else mattered. I tucked the rest away and relished the warmth.
Things More Important to Me Than Work
JJ
Mark
Mom
Dad
Lexie
Bitsy
Mira
Rachelle
The rest of the weekend passed in a quiet blur of sleeping in and hiking with Mark, JJ, and Justin. My muscles felt loose when I went to bed Sunday night and slipped into a heavy, restful sleep.
Monday rolled in on the heels of the devil. The morning passed in a frenetic rush of breakfast dishes, hash browns, and scrambled eggs. By the time I cleaned up breakfast, I only had an hour before lunch prep. I grabbed the recipe book and leaned against the island, fanning a piece of paper in front of my face.
“Meg,” Mark barked through the radio. “Get to the medical office. Now.”
“On my way.”
Brenden, a counselor, was standing outside the medical office when I jogged over. He pushed his hat so the brim rested on top of his head, allowing a glimpse of his blue eyes and soft blond curls.
“It’s Gary,” he said. “Something’s wrong. I brought him from the rifle range.”
Mark sat next to the old ex-infantryman on a cot, one hand on Gary’s bent shoulder as Gary retched into a garbage can. My snap into Nurse Megan happened without prompting. I couldn’t figure out how many bell peppers to cut up for a stir-fry for ten men, but medical emergencies were my jam.
“Troy’s taking care of a kid at the waterfront,” Mark said. “I worried this might be your expertise anyway.”
I knelt at Gary’s side, eyes darting in assessment. Sweaty forehead. Clenched fists. Definitely experiencing some kind of pain. A stethoscope hung off a nail just above the cot. I snatched it and popped the earbuds in.
“Gary? Can you talk?”
He shook his head with a gasp.
“What happened?” I asked Mark. “When? And how long has he been like this?”
“He started vomiting after breakfast,” Brenden said from the doorway. “Didn’t really stop. I radioed Mark to ask for help. It’s like Gary lost all strength. Grabbed his shoulder, said it hurt. Dropped to his knees.”
Gary’s heart slammed through my stethoscope like a drum. Sweat rolled down the sides of his face in beads.
“Where’s the pain, Gary?”
He grabbed at his chest, panting.
“Does it feel like an elephant is sitting on your chest?” I asked. Gary nodded.
“Heart attack?” Mark mouthed.
I shrugged, although my nurse senses tingled. Bounding pulse. Struggling breath. Strange coloring around the lips. I’d seen this almost every day at work. But I wasn’t at work where I could know for sure. I was stuck in the middle of a summer camp at least an hour from the nearest hospital.
“Gary, take big, deep breaths for me while I take your blood pressure. Mark, help me lay him on his right side. Keep the garbage right below him.”
Gary moaned but let us direct him. I stopped taking his blood pressure so he could dry heave. Mark waited, a comforting hand on Gary’s shoulder until I deflated the cuff and pulled the stethoscope out of my ears.
“Bad?” Mark asked.
“High.”
I ripped the velcro apart. “Call 911. We’ll meet them at the highway. Tell them it’s a suspected heart attack and to alert St. John’s we’re coming. Brenden, find Justin. I need him to drive us.”
While they dispersed to do my bidding, I scrambled through the cupboards for an aspirin. Gary moaned, eyes screwed shut, hands clenched, and body limp. I sat next to him with a soothing hand on his back.
“We’ll take good care of you, Gary.”
A few minutes later, Justin pulled up in the truck.
“Ambulance is on their way,” Mark said, throwing open the door. “Said it’ll take thirty minutes to get to the turnoff.”
Justin stepped inside.
“Jeep is ready to go, Meg.”
“Load him up,” I said, grabbing a spare oxygen tank and the mask next to it. I slid into the backseat with Gary, placing his head on my lap, the oxygen tank between my legs. Justin pulled away from medical with the crunch of gravel under the tires. Adventura disappeared behind us within seconds.
“Slow or fast?” Justin asked, meeting my gaze in the rearview mirror.
Gary moaned.
“Medium. I don’t want him bouncing all over the place back here. But…” My eyes trailed over his moist face and clenched eyes. “Don’t take your time, either.”
I slipped the regulator onto the oxygen tank and tightened it, then grabbed the attached green key, tacked it on the top, and turned. Oxygen flowed into the mask. I strapped it to Gary’s face and murmured to him.