by Diana Kane
Erin laughs. “Yeah right, she hasn’t called off sick in years. Where is she?”
“I told you, she called in.”
Erin realizes that Mike isn’t joking. “Wow. Never thought I’d see the day. Well have you met Dr. Waters yet?”
Mike and I introduce ourselves to one another. I want to text Alex, to see if she is ok but she is likely sleeping and I don’t want to wake her. I’m anxious to get started on my cases. I just want to wrap things up so I can go home and take care of Alex.
*****
We finally finish up our day just after 5. I’m exhausted but ready to spend this Friday night at home. Despite my exhaustion I stop and grab some soup and Gatorade for Alex on my way home. I am not ready for what greets me when I arrive. Alex’s car is gone. I enter through the garage and find a note on the counter along with the keys and her garage door opener. My stomach drops, my hands are shaking, I am crying again. She is gone. My trembling hands pick up the letter.
Catherine,
Sorry to move out like this, but had you known I think you would have tried to stop me. This is for the best. Please know that I never wanted to hurt you, to be the cause of the anguish and suffering I saw when we last spoke. To know that I caused it is more painful to me that you can imagine. I hope my absence allows you the space you need to find clarity and to heal.
Alexis
I read the letter three more times. Denial coursing through my system, I head to the basement. I call to her as I make my way down the stairs, but I’m calling to no one. Every trace of Alex is gone, all but the flashes of my memories of her in this space. Movie nights with her, sitting by the fire and chatting with her, coming down and finding her curled up with a book, seeing her naked silhouette the night of our fight. The last memory stirring up a desire deep within me. What if I had just gone to her then? Had kissed her at the party? So many what ifs, yet I know that even then I had no idea how I felt about her. Do I even really know now?
I want to call Alex, to hear her voice, speak with her. Somehow I know it isn’t a good idea, that she will simply ignore any call or text from me. My need to know that she is ok is too strong though. I do the one thing I can, I text Abby asking if Alex is ok. It takes ten agonizing minutes before she responds. She will be, are you? It does little to make me feel better. I have no idea if I will be ok, so I don’t respond.
I drink myself into an oblivion that night. It doesn’t take much given that I never ate lunch or dinner. All I want is anything that will dull the pain. I come to on the couch in the basement, the television on a movie I’ve never seen. I shut it off and head to the bedroom, where Alex used to sleep. I take in it’s emptiness for a minute before heading up to my own. I don’t bother getting out of bed on Saturday other than to use the bathroom. I just want to hide from the world, to be alone in my solitude.
Sunday morning I wake up starving. It has been two days since I’ve eaten. I go to the kitchen and fix myself some toast. I feel disgusting, in need of a shower. The realization that tomorrow is an OR day hits me. I’ll get to see Alex. I feel hope and comfort at this thought, even though I know I shouldn’t, that she has moved on and does not wish to see me.
*****
Rounding and consults take longer than I anticipated they would. I don’t make it downstairs until nearly 8 am. I enter the core leading to my OR for the day, running into Abby half way to my room. “Hey Abby.” I know there is no enthusiasm in my voice.
“Hi Catherine. How are you doing?” Abby surprises me by pulling me in for a hug. I know that she has spoken with Alex, that she knows everything. A few people glance at us as they pass us in the hallway.
“I’m trying.” It is the only response I can give her, anything else would be a lie. “How is she?” I have to know.
“Just checked in with her. I think she is alright, although she wouldn’t let on if she wasn’t. Not here.” She is right, Alex won’t show it here, not if she can help it. We stand in silence for a brief moment before I dismiss myself, I need to get my case started.
I am scrubbing at the shared sink between rooms four and five, when Alex emerges from room five. She pauses when she sees me, her mask hiding any emotion I might have been able to read. She glances at the floor then takes up position next to me. I am unsure what to say, my heart is pounding, I am so happy to see her, yet saddened by the current state of our friendship. I long to reach out and touch her, yet cannot, despite my skin aching to make contact with hers. I can’t tolerate the silence, it makes Alex feel like a stranger, makes me miss her even more. “Hey.” One syllable, the one hushed syllable I can manage.
“Hi.” Then nothing, the silence between us is torture. My scrub is complete, I needed to get in and start my case yet all I can do is stand there, watching her, my hands above my elbows, the water dripping onto the floor. Alex finishes her scrub and turns to back into her room.
“Alex.” I stop her. The compulsion too great for me to resist. “I miss you,” comes out of me in a barely audible whisper.
She looks at me and I see her eyes crystalize as she fights back tears. “Catherine…please don’t.” With that she backs through the door into room five. This is the new normal between us. Taylor was right, I told Alex how I feel and I have lost her.
Alexis
A knock at the door pulls me from the reverie I have found in my newest book. I know it has to be Lydia, she is the only one with keys to the garage. “I’m sorry to bother you, I just wanted to see how you are settling in. I haven’t seen or heard much from you.” It has been just over a week since I moved in and I hadn’t thought to check in with her.
“No problem Lydia, please come in. Would you like something to drink?” I get Lydia her requested glass of water and join her in the living room. Lydia is eyeing the book I left sitting on the couch.
“Haven’t read that one. What’s it about?”
“Vampires mostly. I’m not sure where it will head but it is distracting me at least.”
“Never had time for those. I like a good drama with a happy ending.”
I smile at Lydia and the words slip out before I can stop them. “I don’t think I can handle a happy ending right now.”
Lydia gives me a look, one that I’m sure is of mild disapproval. “You want to talk about it? Maybe I can share some life wisdom with you, I’ve been around for forever now.”
I can’t help but smile and hope I have half the spirit I think Lydia has when I’m older. “I shouldn’t bother you with it really. Thank you though.”
“Nonsense, what else do you think I have going on?”
I recount the story to Lydia, pausing here and there in an effort to maintain my composure. “This isn’t how I wanted things. I never wanted to see her hurting like that. I had to leave so she can heal and move on and maybe I can do the same.” Lydia simply stares at me, or maybe through me. She seems lost in thought. Perhaps she just thinks I’m crazy. I have no idea.
“When I first met my Clara I was married to John. He was a good man, took care of his family, was a great father, would have moved the sky if he thought it would make a loved one happy. We had been married for nearly 10 years when I met Clara that day at library. We became fast friends, spending as much time together as we could. I knew early on that Clara was a lesbian for she had confided it to me one day. It didn’t bother me. The war came and John rejoined the service, he was loyal to his country and wanted to serve her in her time of need. The girls were still babies. I pleaded with him not to go but he had made up his mind. It may be the only time he ever denied me anything. Clara was there for me, she kept me company, let me cry on her shoulder, helped me with the girls. I’m not sure I would have made it through those first few months if it weren’t for her. John was gone just over two years. He came home and Clara gradually disappeared from my life. I fell into a depression. John tried everything he could to make me happy, nothing worked. As my despondency grew greater so did John’s desperation. One day I saw Clara at the library. It
was there she told me her true feelings, that she had fallen in love with me. She had been avoiding me in an effort to get past her feelings. It took me two months to realize that I was actually in love with Clara. I tried to deny it, I was unsure how I could be. I knew that I loved John, it was just that I loved Clara more, needed her more, longed to be with her. Although I struggled to accept my feelings I couldn't hurt John. He had always been an ideal husband and I could not put him through my leaving. So I stayed. John and I went on for nearly a year like this, but John was wise. One day he came home and informed me that he thought we should divorce. I was shocked. John told me that he loved me, that he would always love me, but he couldn’t stand to see me suffer any longer. He told me he was freeing me to follow my heart. I don’t possess the words to tell you how I felt, but imagine your heart breaking and taking flight all in one breath. The man who I tried to honor, who had never done wrong by me once, was sacrificing our marriage so I could be happy. It didn’t take me long to track down Clara and confess my feelings for her. We were together for forty years when she passed.”
I am stunned, grasping for the appropriate words to respond to Lydia. How does one respond to a story like that, especially when the person it happened to is in front of you recounting it? I finally find my voice “Lydia I—.”
“Now I’m not done.” I immediately give Lydia my cooperation and stop trying to talk. “My point is this, you have no idea the emotional hell that Catherine is going through. You’ve taken her world, turned it on its head and spun it for good measure. I’m not sure how she is functioning day to day, I know I couldn’t. I’m not blaming you. We love who we love, there is no controlling that. However I am telling you that it doesn’t matter if you ran away trying to spare her the hurt she is going through, if she cares about you it won’t matter if you are there or not. Those feelings don’t go away on their own, not if they are real. Hiding here isn’t going to make you forget about her either. It seems pretty clear she has feelings for you, she told you as much. You just need to give her time to decide whether she is going to live honestly by those feelings or if she is going to lie to herself about them for the rest of her life.”
I sit in contemplative silence, tears streaming down my face. The combination of Lydia’s story and the emotional roller coaster I’ve been on lately are too much to contain. Lydia goes back to the bathroom and brings me a tissue. She takes her glass and deposits it in the kitchen sink. She heads towards the short hallway that leads to the exit and stops before she is out of my line of sight. “Come down to the house for dinner tonight around six. We can talk some more about this, or not. Your choice. It won’t be fancy but I can promise you won’t leave hungry.” I nod my head, affirming that I will be there. Lydia sees herself out, leaving me to the new round of thoughts weighing on my mind.
*****
Three weeks have passed since Lydia confided her story to me. Things between Catherine and I are unchanged. I am still trying to avoid her at work and will not answer her calls or texts. On the days I have to scrub her cases I’ve keep our interactions to a minimum and strictly case related. Being the ice queen towards her isn’t getting easier though. Each day my resolve erodes a little bit more, my feelings for her impossible to deny.
As usual I don’t sleep much past 4 am on that Friday morning. I get up and assume my new routine. I turn on the weather to discover they are calling for a winter storm starting this morning and stretching into the late night. Looking out the window I observe that nothing has accumulated yet. I get ready for work and head down a few minutes early to spread some salt on the driveway and Lydia’s porch before I leave. I’ve made the effort these last few weeks to keep her driveway, porch and sidewalks clear and salted after I discovered her outside shoveling one morning. I am just finishing laying down salt when Lydia pops her head out the door.
“I wish you would let me take care of that.”
“I don’t mind. It is too cold out here anyway. Stay in the house where it is warm and dry. I’ll take care of the shoveling when I get home. You need me to pick anything up for you on my way?”
“I went shopping yesterday so I’ll be fine. If you are around Sunday I am hosting the monthly dykes dinner. You should come. We will eat around five but people will start showing up around two.”
“Thanks. I’ll come down if I’m here. Have a good day.” 10 hours separate me from my weekend. My plans free, no obligations weekend. Abby is out of town at a conference, so no Friday night dinner. I plan to take advantage of the opportunity to have a ‘mental me’ weekend. 10 hours and I’ll be free to put on my sweats, shut off my phone and be a recluse for two whole days.
Catherine
Today is the day I reaffirm to my reflection as I reach for my toothbrush. Today I will speak with Alex. I need to tell her how I feel. I know she has moved on with Brooke but I need her to know. I don’t think I can last another day without having her in my life in some capacity. I long for her in a way I don’t ever recall feeling before.
I get up and ready for work early. I am on call this weekend so I pack a bag to last a few days. With the impending snow storm staying at the hospital is my safest bet. I give myself a few extra minutes to get to work this morning just in case, minutes that I end up not needing. I have three cases today and four patients upstairs I hope to discharge before the storm starts. Discharge orders complete, I head down to the OR, anxious to find Alex.
My search for Alex is pointless. I am unable to find her. Determined as I may be I am forced to give up when my phone rings. It is the Jessica, the PA who is currently on call for us. My second patient has rescheduled their surgery due to the impending weather. Understandable. I ask her to contact my last patient to see if they are available earlier. I intend to resume my search when a colleague stops me to ask if I’d be willing to work his mother into clinic next week. I gladly accept, give him the office number and make a quick call to leave our scheduler a message informing her that the request would be coming. I’m free to seek out Alex again. I finally find her but she is scrubbed in setting up in another doctor’s room. I give up for the time being and head to pre-op to initial my first patient and sign the consent forms. It is time to get this day truly underway.
*****
I finish my last case just after noon. I still need to see Alex, to talk to her. I stop by the OR she is in to find her scrubbed in yet again. I make my way to the consult room and speak with the family. There aren’t any new consults yet so I decide to grab some lunch and head to Alex’s preferred lunch spot. It is a long shot, I know she has likely already had her break, but it is an effort I have to make. I eat my lunch without interruption, the compulsion unfulfilled. I am starting to feel like a stalker. I need to stop. I tell myself I will see Alex when I see her. I stare out the window taking in the heavy snowfall, trying to forget the litany of thoughts I can’t seem to shake. It is just before three when I pull myself back to reality. I take out my laptop to finish the charting I have left to do. That done I decide I should find an available on call room. Sleep will likely not come, but I need to try before the inevitable trauma consults begin this evening.
I settle into the on call room and run through the mental checklist of things I need to take care of. Aside from responding to a few emails, I am caught up. I try calling Taylor but get her voicemail. The realization of how exhausted I am starts to sink in. I start a movie on my laptop and settle in on the cot.
I come to four hours later. I am in disbelief, still no consults. I also realize that I’ve missed Alex, she will be long gone by now. Not wanting to sit around idly ruminating about Alex I head to the ER. Perhaps they are busy and can use a hand with something. I check in with Dr. Andrews, the trauma surgeon for the night. He seems relaxed and is chatting with the resident physicians. I am out of luck, even the ER is relatively quiet.
I settle back into the on call room. I should grab something to eat but I’m not hungry. Instead I opt for my current novel, a book about a female det
ective who excels at her job but is falling apart in her personal life. I can relate.
The sound of the trauma pager on my phone brings me back to consciousness. It is nearly 9. I’ve slept more today than I have all week. I fumble for my phone to see what it is. A motor vehicle accident victim, level one, estimated arrival time of five minutes.
I arrive at the ER trauma bay and meet Dr. Andrews. He begins to fill me in. Unconscious female, driver of vehicle struck on the driver’s side door by a city bus. He is cut off when the paramedics arrive with the patient.
I stand back and let the trauma team start their initial assessment. Dr. Andrews will alert me when it is time. I pick up what I need to know. Unidentified female, head trauma with a GCS of 6T, facial lacerations. I wait. Dr. Andrews and his trauma residents make their initial assessments. No immediately noticeable abdominal injuries or open fractures. In less than a minute he calls me over. I make my way toward the patient, finally able to get a suitable look. My blood turns to ice and my heart stops beating, the woman is Alex. The room swims around me. Dr. Andrews picks up on my hesitation immediately “Do you know who this is?”
I’m frozen, the doctor brain pushing me to save her, the personal brain wanting to collapse at the sight of Alex laying there unresponsive. Andrews asks me again. “She is Alexis Woods. She is one of our scrub techs.” It is enough. The doctor brain is taking over. I confirm the GCS score. Not good. “I need her in CT immediately.”