The Choices I've Made

by J. L. Berg

  “Thank you, Dr. Jameson,” she said.

  “Anytime. And, Tobby?” I said, calling out to the kid. “Maybe lay off the BMX biking for a while,” I suggested. “At least until the cast is off.”

  He pouted a little but agreed, “Okay.”

  His mom and I exchanged a knowing smile, and I left them to the capable hands of one of my nurses. Stepping into my office, I took a seat between seeing patients to quickly take some notes and update the kid’s chart.

  As I was doing so, my phone began to vibrate.

  Looking at the caller ID, I found myself smiling.

  “Haven’t I done you enough favors lately?” I said, not bothering to even say hello.

  “I’m not calling to ask for another one. Just making sure you’re still showing up tonight,” the familiar female voice said on the other end.

  “I haven’t forgotten, Makayla. I am somewhat responsible,” I reminded her.

  “Yeah, now. I mean, you’ve always been present and accounted for in your professional life, but when we met, you were basically a train wreck.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “So, I have you to thank for the leaf-turning?”

  “Nope,” she said adamantly. “It was all you. I just gave you the healthy best-friend nudge you needed.”

  “And, to think, I thought you were nothing but a gold digger on that plane so long ago.”

  “Oh, I was,” she replied, clearly amused. “If you’d given me a reason, I would have attached myself to you like some parasitic organism and drained you dry.”

  Laughing, I replied, “Clearly, you’ve been studying.”

  “Until my eyes bled.”

  “Good. And, hey, I’ll be there. With bells on. Promise.”

  “Thanks, Jake. I really appreciate it. With finals coming up, I think we could all use the motivation of a success story right about now.”

  I let out a deep breath. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  She reminded me of the time and place once more even though she’d texted it to me several times and given it to every member of my staff.

  Makayla was efficient. It was what had made her the top-grossing pharmaceutical sales rep in the area, using her charm over men and women to bank tons of cash. But, after our fateful plane ride together to North Carolina, one that would cause each of our lives to spin on its axis, I’d found a completely changed woman less than a year later.

  It’d turned out, I wasn’t the only one searching for answers on that flight. Makayla had left someone behind as well. She’d thought it was a college fling, something she’d move on from, but fate had had other plans.

  The moment she had seen her ex-girlfriend and roommate, Mara, everything had changed. The petty life she’d been living dissolved, and she’d remembered who she was again. Makayla had quit her job, enrolled in medical school to become a doctor rather than marrying one, and had been busting her ass ever since.

  As for her and Mara? They’d just celebrated their first wedding anniversary.

  It was one of those fairy-tale endings Molly always talked about, and I was grateful to have witnessed it.

  By a stroke of luck, and a shared addiction to a particular coffee house in the area, the three of us had become fast friends.

  The rest of the day went by in a haze. I had a few patients with colds and a couple of positive strep tests, and I had to send one poor woman to the ER after she went into labor in my exam room when she’d brought her two-year-old in for a checkup.

  “Well, that was an eventful day,” Carly, my head nurse for the last year, said.

  “No kidding,” I replied. “I haven’t delivered a baby in years. Wasn’t sure I was prepared for that today.”

  She laughed. “Well, we could have pulled in Dr. Kellogg. I’m sure he’s delivered a few in his time.”

  I chuckled. “No doubt.”

  “You headed out?” she asked as we finished up for the day, the usual chatter of the large office growing quieter by the minute.

  “Yeah, I’ve got—”

  “The talk tonight. I know. Makayla made sure we all knew.”

  “She’s going to be one hell of a doctor,” I said. “She’ll make some poor attending miserable when she heads off to her residency in a few years.”

  “Just be glad it’s not you.”

  “I’d kill her. Or vice versa. Anyway, have a nice weekend, and don’t forget the barbecue at my house on Sunday. Bring your husband and kids.”

  “Absolutely. Can we make anything?” she asked, grabbing her purse to head out with me.

  “Nope. I’ve got it this time.”

  We said our good-byes as I locked up. Looking up at the sign that proudly displayed my name, Jameson Family Practice, I tried to come up with something to say tonight to the group of medical students I’d be talking with.

  How would I inspire them to keep going?

  To stay motivated?

  When I had been in medical school, I had been a beast. I’d just kept going because I didn’t know any other way. Studying had been my form of crack. It’d kept me from dealing with all the shit that had happened in my life, stuff I spent years desperately trying to ignore.

  Hopping into my car, I drove the short distance to the restaurant. Makayla had rented out the entire back, using money she’d talked out of me. But I was more than willing to help. This gave the students a chance to get out of their apartments and dorms and away from the city.

  I still remembered the first time I’d actually driven into the suburbs of Chicago. It had been like stepping into another world. As much as I still loved the hustle and bustle of the city, it was sometimes nice to slow down and enjoy something a little more chill.

  And that was exactly what these stressed out medical students needed—chill.

  So, Makayla had picked a casual place with fresh food and drinks. People could eat and drink as I talked, and afterward, it would be the perfect atmosphere for socializing.

  As soon as I walked in, I knew she’d nailed it. If we’d settled on something like a classroom or meeting room of a library, it would have only upped their stress level.

  Waving hands immediately caught my attention.

  “You’re early!” Makayla nearly screeched, pulling me into a giant hug. Dressed in casual jeans and a college sweatshirt, she looked nothing like the sexpot I’d sat next to in first class.

  But then again, neither did I.

  “Where’s Mara?” I asked, looking around for her other half.

  “At home with the dog. She’s still potty-training, and if we leave the little shit alone for more than a few hours, it’s like hell on earth when we get home.”

  “Gross,” I replied.

  “You have no idea, but I figure it’s good training for a baby, so…” She shrugged.

  “Baby?” I asked. “Are you talking kids already?”

  She shook her head as she searched the crowd for others. “No, not yet. But someday. Maybe when I finish med school. All I know is, I want them.”

  I smiled warmly in her direction. “You’ll make great moms.”

  “Yeah?” she asked. “I think so, too.”

  “Can I be the godfather?”

  “What?” She laughed, hitting me on the arm. “You can’t just ask to be the godfather.”

  “Why not? If it wasn’t for me, you two wouldn’t even be together.”

  She looked at me, stunned. “Are you kidding me right now?”

  “I’m not,” I deadpanned. “If I’d given in to your wild advances that day on the plane, you would have fallen so deeply in love with me, there would have been no room for Mara. You’d have been totally smitten.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”

  I shrugged. “It’s true.”

  Grabbing my hand, she pulled me toward the back of the restaurant. “Come on, stud. It’s time to talk to the kiddos. Try not to overinflate that ego. Don’t want it to explode.”

  I chuckled as we found the rest of her peers. It w
as a smaller group. Maybe thirty or so. I couldn’t remember what class they were from, but I knew they’d developed a tight connection through studying during this semester.

  And, now, I was going to bestow my wisdom.

  Right…

  Makayla gathered their attention, and all eyes turned toward the two of us standing in front.

  She introduced me, and I began to sweat.

  “This is my good friend Dr. Jake Jameson. Jake has his bachelor’s and medical degree from Stanford. He did his residency in Boston and worked as a cardiothoracic surgeon for several years before giving it all up to become a family physician.”

  Several murmurs of surprise spread across the group.

  “And he’s going to tell you all about that crazy decision now. Jake?”

  A bit of polite applause greeted me as Makayla took her seat next to a few of her peers. I cleared my throat, feeling incredibly nervous as everyone looked up at me.

  “So, I know you’re all wondering…what kind of mental breakdown did that guy have, right?”

  Everyone chuckled. Myself included.

  Placing my hands in my pockets, I took a slow walk to the left and right, gathering my thoughts. “Here’s the thing,” I said. “As a doctor, you’ll excel at a lot of things on a daily basis. By the end of the day, you’ll be tired and exhausted, but you’ll feel like a goddamn superhero—or at least, that’s the way you should feel.”

  More laughter.

  “And I did all that. I flew through medical school and my residency—top of my class by the way. I was on my way to becoming the youngest chief of surgery MacNeal had ever seen. But then my father died. And I know what you’re thinking. Oh, great. Here comes the tragic plot twist. So, I’ll spare you the details.

  “When I came back to Chicago after his death, I had a serious come-to-Jesus moment. And, for those of you not from the South, that means, I had a sort of epiphany.

  “I’d been living in this city for a handful of years, and I had no friends. Not a single one. I had no life outside of the hospital. And I know you’ve all been told the speech about how hard it’s going to be. How much your personal life will suffer. But, sitting in my bare apartment in a city I didn’t recognize, this is what I learned in that one moment: none of it matters if you don’t have meaning.”

  The room had grown silent. I wasn’t sure if they were hanging on my every word or waiting for me to shut up so that they could grab more drinks, so I carried on.

  “I’d gotten to the point where my job was simply that—a job. That’s a dangerous place for a dude who holds a scalpel for a living. It wasn’t that I didn’t care whether my patients lived or died; it was that I didn’t even regard them as anything beyond a job. The operating table was a conveyor belt. And my patients? They were just products coming down the line.”

  I caught Makayla’s gaze, and she smiled.

  “If you’re doing this for the glory or the money, just stop now because that will be you in ten years. This job will tear you up and spit you out over and over again. Have passion. Have a heart. Damn it, care about your patients because no one else will. Go the extra mile—whether that’s doing a triple bypass or mending a broken foot.

  “Makayla said I’d explain why I gave up the good life, why I traded half a million dollars a year for lollipops and growth charts. It’s how I go the extra mile, guys. It’s how I keep my heart in it. And let me tell you a secret,” I said, smiling wide. “It gives back tenfold.”

  There was wide applause, everyone rising from their seats. I felt my cheeks heat slightly as I caught Makayla’s proud smile.

  Thank you, she mouthed, coming to join me.

  “Thanks, Jake!” she said loudly as everyone took a seat. “Now, does anyone have any questions? Jake will be here for a while afterward, but I figured I’d open the floor now before we all started getting hammered.”

  I joined the laughter as several hands went up.

  Makayla pointed to a short Asian guy wearing a Pink Floyd T-shirt. He stood to ask his question. It all felt very adolescent, minus the beers floating around. Well, maybe not.

  “You spoke of the benefits of your switch into family care. Can you speak about any downsides?”

  I nodded. “You mean, aside from the money?”

  He laughed. “Right.”

  “Okay, sure. So, one of the benefits of working the way I did in cardio was, I had very brief contact with my patients. An hour or two of appointment times before and after surgery, and then they were gone. That’s the life of a surgeon. And, for some, that’s fine. They like the hands-off approach of it all. I know plenty of doctors who have stunning careers as surgeons because they need the separation.

  “Ask any of my friends or family back home, and you’ll find, I’m a bit of a tender heart. I’m the guy who tried to nurse a jellyfish back to life after my best friend poked it with a stick even though I knew I could get stung. I need the personal contact with my patients to thrive. Take it away, and I wilt. I grew up in a small town, and all I ever wanted to do was take care of people. The downside to all of that? Honestly, the caring,” I answered. “Seeing your patients suffer…die, it’s incredibly hard. So, yeah, the caring part will always be the hardest. It’s far easier not to.”

  “So then, why do you do it?” a burly fellow in the back shouted.

  “Why not?” I replied. “Why do we go into relationships without the guarantee it will succeed? Why do we make friends and hold our families close? It’s human nature to care,” I answered with a shrug.

  A timid girl a couple of tables back raised her hand, and Makayla gave her the go-ahead. She stood up, all six feet of her. She had lovely red hair and freckles. She shyly looked at me and smiled.

  “We’re dying to know…are you single?”

  A roar of female laughter took over the place as I looked down at the floor, my shoulders shaking as I joined in.

  “That’s a long story,” I finally answered. “But the short answer is no. I gave my heart away a long time ago.”

  A few disappointed sighs rang across the restaurant before someone else chimed in, “Does she know?”

  Those three words…and my mouth went dry as I looked around the room. I searched every face. Makayla obviously noticed my distress and called it quits.

  “Okay, I think that’s enough questions. Let’s hit the bar!” she announced.

  I continued to scour the room for that familiar female voice.

  “You okay?” she asked, a comforting hand on my back.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Go grab a drink. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Her Spidey best-friend senses were tingling, but she obviously knew when to give me space. She moved toward the bar with the rest of her class, and I was left alone, searching around for a ghost from my past.

  Suddenly, as though she’d materialized out of thin air, I saw her.

  My Molly.

  All the air from my lungs escaped as my eyes converged with hers. Standing in front of me, wearing a simple red dress and heels, she looked like a fucking vision from my dreams.

  “You’re here,” I said, barely able to speak. “How?”

  “Your best friend over there publicized the crap out of this little talk on her various social media outlets. It wasn’t that hard to figure out. Besides, I seem to remember someone saying I’d love Chicago,” she said, taking a single step forward. “Although I think I was promised high-rises and busy streets. This all seems a little tame.”

  It was her coy smile that did me in. Stalking forward, I did the single thing I’d been dying to do for over two years.

  I kissed her.

  I didn’t know why she was here or for how long. I didn’t care. All I knew was, I loved this woman.

  I always would.

  Pulling back, our foreheads still touching my breath faltered, I heard the crinkling of paper. Looking down, I saw she had an envelope in her hand.

  “I’m sorry it took me so long, Jakey,” she said.
r />   “You wrote me a letter?”

  She nodded. “I wrote you a hundred letters, maybe more. From all over the world.”

  I let out a relieved breath. “You traveled.”

  A tear fell from her cheek. “I did, and you were right. I needed to find myself, and I did. I learned to cook from little old ladies in Italy. I baked bread in France and swam with dolphins in Hawaii. Jake, it was wonderful. But, now, I have one letter left. Will you read it?”

  Reaching into my wallet, I pulled out a carefully folded envelope, one I’d been carrying with me for several months now. It’d taken an online tutorial in origami to figure out how to get it into this shape, but I had known I would have to have it with me at all times.

  And this was why.

  “Only if you read mine,” I said, unfolding the letter I always carried with me and placing it in her hands.

  My hands shook as I opened it, and found only a handful of words.

  Dear Jake,

  Come home. I’m ready now.

  Love,

  Molly

  My eyes lifted as she opened mine. I smiled because I knew exactly what it said.

  Molly,

  You are and always have been my home.

  Forever yours,

  Jake

  I wiped a tear from her cheek as she rose onto her tippy-toes.

  “I love you, Jake Jameson,” she whispered. “For a day, a month, and a thousand lifetimes. Welcome home.”

  Taking her in my arms, I breathed in her scent, felt her real and alive against me and I smiled.

  We’d finally found it.

  Our home. Our happiness. Our happily ever after.

  Now the rest was just details

  “HOW CAN YOU STILL OWN a practice in Chicago but live down here?” Terri asked after forcing Jake and me to sit down for tea.

  I’d only come by to pick up a handful of corn for some bread, but I should have known better. Even after a heart attack and several surgeries, this woman was going one hundred and ten percent—on her bad days.

  “How could I own a practice down here, in Ocracoke, for the last two years when I was living in Chicago?” Jake countered. “You don’t have to live where you own, Terri.”