by Bri Stone
“Melinda, hi. I was wondering if I would see you.” Dr. Nicole Wood comes over and hugs me like we’re friends.
I want to ask her what the hell she is doing here but I know it would be inappropriate. “Hi.”
“You must have had a horrible day.” She gushes, I peer around her to see Pete staring off in front of him, barely acknowledging my presence.
I felt somewhat of a breakthrough in the room with him, but I should have known it wasn’t enough. I should have known it would take so much more.
“It’s been rough, yeah. I just came to check—um, you’re here for…”
She laughs once, tugging at her cashmere cardigan. Maybe I should have gone into sports medicine, then I would have days off and a reason to wear my fancy heels too. She’s dressed like an average contemporary woman and it drives me insane.
“Oh, just to check on Pete. Can’t have our best player laid out just before the All Stars.” She saunters back over to Pete and palms his shoulder.
I fume inside but hold my cool, stepping into his gaze.
“I heard you had some irritation in your throat. It could be soot.” I say to him, and he meets my gaze reluctantly.
“I’m fine.” He says once.
Nicole rubs his arm in a way that doesn’t prove she is just his team doctor. Is there something between them? Does he even reciprocate? At this moment, it doesn’t seem like it.
“I was worried…” I clear my throat, stalling off. His soft brown eyes pierce me so sharply, it’s a wonder they ever used to look at me the way they did.
“Nothing to worry about.” He gets up from his sitting position, swinging his legs over and standing up to tower over both Nicole and me.
“Give us a second, doc.” He says to Nicole. She smiles softly but I notice the twitch in her eye and I relax only slightly.
As soon as she is gone, I close the curtain and face Pete. “Are you two together?” I ask him straight up.
“No.” he doesn’t hesitate.
I blink, “It seems like it to me.”
“And what would it matter to you?” He snaps.
I swallow back the sting of tears because I thought the hostility was over but I realize how stupid I am. God, what I did… I wouldn’t even be talking to me, but here he is. Softly glaring, but here.
“I guess it doesn’t.” I stare down at my sneakers. I realize my feet are numb. I need to lay down for thirteen days, sleep for five, and hope Pete won’t look at me the way he is.
“Are you cleared to leave?” I ask him.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” He sighs, running his hands through his hair in turn like he always used to do. It’s wild that nothing about him has changed, nothing at all. “I have a press conference in the morning and then I’m headed back to the farm until the season starts up.”
I step a little closer with a soft smile, having so many memories about that farm. But he doesn’t reciprocate, he is poised to leave and—and then what?
“So… you won’t be in the city—”
“What did you think would happen, Melinda?” He raises his voice slightly. Maybe that is one thing that’s changed—he never used to raise his voice to me.
“I didn’t think anything Pete, I just saw you and I wanted to talk to you.”
“But not offer me any closure? You ran away fifteen years ago and made it impossible for me to find you. What’s changed? I’m the successful ball player now, got millions flowing in and you want to come and rear your head again, under the guise of wanting to talk? Unless you—” he clenches his hands into fists and steps away, his voice has raised for the whole floor to hear.
“Pete, please stop yelling,” I whisper.
“I’ll yell if I want to, Melinda. You have no idea what you’ve done, how you’ve broken me. And, god, it is so infuriating to know I still want to wrap you up and carry you away, but how can I do that when I’ll be afraid to blink and find you gone again.” His voice lowers to a harsh roar and I cower away.
My eyes prick with tears and cast him in a watery glow before they drip down my cheeks, onto my shirt. I nod once, then again, in my nodding I don’t realize he has walked away and left the curtain billowing.
“Pete,” I walk out after him to find half the nurses’ aides looking at me, patients staring on.
I find the exit in time to watch Pete walk away from Nicole and off in another direction. Away from her, and the hospital, and the shitty day… and me.
Mite sits at the end of the conference table, staring us attendings down like the plague. He isn’t mad, just in a pickle he hasn’t seen before.
The bomber passed thirty-six hours after surgery and now, a month later, detectives have concluded their investigations. Reporters have stopped calling, and his family dropped their lawsuit against us.
For twelve days my medical license hung in the air, for twelve days I was prodded and questioned by the same people who used my research as a sounding board; as their platform. Because they thought I decided not to save a mass murderer; because wouldn’t you guess it, every surgeon in that room with me I decided to pack and close.
They tell us to stick together and fight for the good of the patient and to only cut when necessary, but they never said we couldn’t scalpel each other.
I suppose I couldn’t blame them. In the time I was questioned and almost called to court, I did some soul searching. What would I do without surgery? I could still handle my research and not operate. I would still be Dr. Melinda Charles who created the Charles Method. But I would be missing the very thing I worked for. Being here wouldn’t mean anything.
I wanted to throw my hands up and leave, but not so these vultures could succeed. And they didn’t, but not because they came clean. Because the bomber’s mother saw the fucking light, we didn’t do anything wrong. It didn’t matter that he had. We did our best. We did our fucking jobs. And I was over everyone in this room. Betrayal isn’t a new emotion to me but it was here, in this hospital and with these other doctors. It wasn’t supposed to happen that way but it did. I stayed beside myself, wanting to hate them, but still wondering if I wouldn’t have done the same thing.
No. I wouldn’t have.
“So, I suppose we will just pretend you all didn’t lie through your teeth.” I always sit next to Mite, so I look down the whole table.
Garrett, Green, even the fucking anesthesiologist and my scrub nurse. And Luke was the only one who didn’t mention my name.
“Look, Melinda—” Garrett with his wheezy voice starts.
“I’m not finished, and it’s Dr. Charles.”
His cheeks redden but he sits back in the leather chair.
I clasp my hands in front of me, staying calm. “My research alone nets this hospital one hundred million dollars in capitol per year, I have performed more ground-breaking surgeries than any of you. I made this hospital. And though I deserve a big head, I didn’t get one. I worked with all of you, time and time again. But when things were tough, you sacrificed me so you wouldn’t lose your jobs and, hey, I get that. But I was in that OR, and none of you are very good at your damned jobs anyway. I made the call, I laid down on the wire while everyone else just wanted to cut it.” I stand up.
Mite clears his throat and moves to speak but I put my hand up to stop him. The other doctors are quaking in their seats. They must have thought I would never say anything.
“So, since we are all out for ourselves now, it’s best I do the same and just put this in the past. No hard feelings.” I glance at each of them pointedly. Feeling good—standing up for myself.
I would never have done it before. Everyone in this room knows I don’t usually speak my mind. I’m not like I was in med school, or even during residency. I got to where I wanted to be and lost my way. Then I found Pete again and wondered if I would ever find my way back.
“Nelson let’s go.” I nod to him and he stands up with a smirk.
I see him flip everyone off on the way out. I never said anything about him stan
ding up for me, and neither did he. I think we both like it better that way.
He takes all my surgeries for the day and I hide in my research wing with Seven. The other guy dropped out—well, didn’t want to do the research anymore.
“Seven, do you like it here?” I ask her.
She laughs once and sets her pen down. Cracking her fingers and accepting the break. We have been manually inputting data for three hours.
“At the hospital? Yeah. I don’t know if I’ll stay for fellowship, but I like it.”
“And the research? You like it?” I ask her.
Her eyes dart to me, surprised I’m so talkative. “Yeah, I do. You know I want to be you.” Her voice is nervous.
“Come on, you don’t want to be like me. Did you give something up? To be here, I mean, practice medicine.”
“Uh, besides sleep? Nothing.” She blushes.
“You can tell me, I’m a cool boss.” I purse my lips and smirk. She laughs nervously, sits up and tucks her hair behind her ears as she clasps her hands together.
“Okay. Well, my boyfriend has been my boyfriend for years because I keep holding things off. Saying I want to wait until I have a secure job. He’s a teacher with normal hours. I come home tired and grumpy and rarely remember what he says but he still greets me with food and a hug. I miss the family holidays. And forget my own birthday, but I know once I make it, it will be worth it.”
I take in her words. I sigh, finding the similarities. I had no idea my spitting image was right here.
“Look Seven, it won’t be worth it.” I hold her gaze.
“What?” She cocks her head. So innocent and unknowing, misguided.
“It won’t be worth it.” I shrug with honesty. “I’m thirty-three years old and I ran from everything back in college thinking I had to pursue this one thing, then I could finally relax and the sacrifices would match their worth. They won’t. I may have the best success rate, successful research projects, but if there is no one to share it with, no one to root for you even on the bad days… it isn’t worth it. Your life doesn’t get to exist in phases, levels to advance toward the end of the game, because it isn’t one. It’s just life, and it won’t wait.”
I lean back in my chair and she absorbs everything I said. I absorb it too, not believing I even came to that conclusion.
“Whoa… I never thought of it that way.”
I nod to myself. I close all the research files and we file them away.
“I didn’t either. But now you can think about it. Go home at six, maybe even five. You’ll become a great surgeon without giving up your life.” I pat her shoulder as she stares at me wide-eyed.
I smile and leave, heading for my office. It feels right, I feel good knowing my next move. I pack away my things in my purse, shut my computer down and shoot Luke an email. I meet Mite in his office and he greets me with a smile, probably still reeling from my outburst and surprised to see me in jeans and not scrubs; even a nice fluffy sweater.
“Charles, come in.” He stands and leans on the other side of his desk, gesturing for me to sit before I decline.
I don’t need to. I’m headed to a better place now, off to fight my hardest battle. Worse than the MCAT, MSRE, Residency, even fellowship.
“What can I do you for?”
I smile back timidly, taking a deep breath before I exhale. “Sir, I am taking a leave of absence. Indefinitely, and effective immediately.”
PETE
* * *
Reporters.
I still haven’t gotten used to them. Do they want to hear what I have to say? About football, I understand…but about something like a mass murder? I don’t get it.
I do get, that they want to slap a pop culture face on it and hope it will push their agenda. I was that face, and what I had to say probably wouldn’t be heard. They knew that and shoved the football questions shortly after. I left the podium dejected, feeling like my suit was made of steel. I retreat to the club locker room, and through to the lounge of the stadium. My agent waits for me, her expression stoic.
Haley Rice is a demure, black woman who has been repping me since I was a know-nothing rookie. She got me all my million-dollar endorsements and the highest net contract of any defensive lineman in the field.
“You sucked.” Haley stands, hands on her skirted hips. She always wears some sort of pencil skirt and colored dress shirt. Today it’s royal blue, silk. Her hair is kept cropped, longer at the top.
“Thanks.” I undo my suit jacket and sit while she still stands. “What was I supposed to say? That I wish I wasn’t there? Lots of people wish that.” I huff.
Haley sighs, dropping her hands and coming to sit on the table in front of me. “Well, you’re not wrong.” She shakes her head. “Two hundred people, more injured. It makes you wonder why.” She tsks.
“Yeah.”
“But that’s not why I’m mad.” She bounces off the subject.
“Oh yeah?” I manage to laugh once at her tone. I meet her hazel eyes as she stands firm.
“What’s this story swarming around about you and this Melinda Charles? Why did you pass on the question?”
I close my eyes and exhale in frustration, rubbing my eyes with my thumb and two fingers. My stomach tightens at the mention of her name, as it did when I was asked about her. Why we were having a ‘heated argument’ in the hospital. I wonder how much whoever quoted that got paid. I wasn’t going to do the gossip justice or give Melinda any trouble by fueling it. I may have incessant feelings toward her, but none were malicious.
“Nothing.” I lie.
Haley arches her brow. “Okay liar, I did my own digging. Found all your college pin-ups from Baylor. She was your fiancé, you were in the papers.”
“Look Hales,” I stand, “I don’t ask about your personal life. Melinda’s got nothin’ to do with football or me as your client. Just drop it, and don’t pick it up again.” I turn on my heel and head for the exit, needing an exit. A way out of the past.
“Pete—” she starts, I stop on my heels out of respect. “What did she do?”
I close my eyes as my body tenses. Too late I’m already stuck in the past.
Baylor University Senior Year, October
I text Melinda every day even though it drives her crazy. Serves her right, since she drives me insane. I haven’t ever thought about a girl so much. Even when I thought I was in love in high school and that my ex-girlfriend was the one. She wasn’t.
I know Melinda is. Because I feel it in the corniest, cheesy ways but I don’t care. It’s been just about three months, a few dates here and there including the picnic I promised, and Taco Tuesday every week.
It’s time to make Melinda my girl.
She sits across from me in her flowery dress, showing off her supple chest and smooth arms. She has even started dressing differently around me, smiling more, acting differently. I know she’s fallen for me too, and I know she knows jack shit about expressing her emotions. She won’t talk much about her past or where she grew up, so I know it’s got to do with that.
I don’t mind it or care much because she is here with me now, but dammit I want all of her.
“You’re giving me that look again.” Melinda nibbles on a chip over her smile.
I lean into the table, “Like what?” I give a sly grin.
She chews softly and shrugs. “I don’t know…” Her eyes fleet around before she focuses on me. And every time she looks at me like that, I get lost for breath. “I like the way you look at me.” She says, and it’s that look. I’ve given her something she didn’t know about before.
I smile, “I’ll never stop giving you that look.”
“Promise me.” She says and widens her eyes as if she didn’t think before she did.
But I do, I take her hand and kiss her palm that always tastes like sugar and one of her oils, “I promise.”
And our sweet moment of blissful realization is interrupted by my other two stooges.
“Melly!�
�� Daniel slides into the booth with Melinda and wraps his arm around her as Jim squishes me in on the other side.
I roll my eyes but laugh at their entrance, once they found out about my weekly date with Melinda, they thought it nice to crash the party sometimes.
“Hi Daniel.” Melinda smiles at him, “Hi Jim.” She greets them both and I shoot her an apology with my eyes that she just shrugs in response to.
“Hope we’re not interrupting.” Daniel lies as he digs in on the chips and queso. Hell, we barely just sat down and placed our orders.
“Oh really?” I frown. But we all end up laughing after a few minutes.
When they first met Melinda, she took to them easily, and it meant a lot to me because they’re my best friends and as good as family.
“You guys order yet?” Jim looks around for the waitress.
“I’m starving.” Daniel proves his point by finishing the chips. I know they just came from O-line practice, so they must be hungry.
Coach started splitting some of the practices last year to focus on separate linemen skills with the specialty coaches. We haven’t lost a game this season, so I suppose it’s working.
“We just ordered,” Melinda answers.
“I can share with you?” Daniel nudges her shoulder and she shoots him a dirty look, he feigns fear as he leans away with his hands up.
“Hell no.”
“That’s fine. We were just leaving. See you later Melinda. Oh, are you coming to homecoming?” Daniel looks at her as she seems taken aback, glancing at me. I give Daniel a real glare as he looks at me.
“Oh sorry. I ruined the romantic proposal.” He laughs uneasily and Jim just shakes his head.
“Well—yeah I don’t have an excuse to leave now.” He stands and holds a peace sign as Jim follows him out.
Once they’re gone I blow out a frustrated breath.
“Sorry,” I tell Melinda.
“It’s okay,” she giggles. “Not the first time they’ve done that.”
But I still look at her awkwardly broaching the subject.
“Homecoming is just a social construct,” I start with a joke to which she smiles only slightly, “but I do want you to come. The game is always super pumped up, and there’s a parade that day. Afterward, there’s a bonfire everyone goes to—it’s fun, kind of like high school.”