by Penny Wylder
A bigger part is too busy staring at both of my parents in horror.
“Get your hands off my daughter,” Dad finally sputters in Russ’s direction, taking a threatening step toward us.
But I reach down to grab Russ’s hand, and I don’t let go. I squeeze his fingers tight in an unspoken message. Russ put it all on the line for me yesterday, standing up to my father on my behalf. Now it’s my turn to do the same. “Don’t tell him what to do, Dad. It’s not your decision.”
“Not my—!”
“Exactly,” I interrupt. “Russ.” I turn back to him. I didn’t answer his statement earlier, and I really need to. “I love you too,” I tell him, and it’s worth everything just to see the way the words light up his face, spread a smile across it. I turn back to my parents, my shoulders straight and firm. “We’re in love, and we’re going to be together. I’m sick of hiding it.”
“This is unacceptable, Maggie,” my father yells, finally recovering his voice, it seems. “First all of your disobedience yesterday, then you disappear all night, leaving your mother frantic with worry.” He gestures at her. As for Mom, she’s glancing back and forth between Russ and me, her face a mask of confusion, as if she’s doing mental calculus. Trying to figure out if she should have guessed this was happening sooner, or what signs she missed. “We left before dawn today looking for you, driving by all of your little friends’ houses.”
My friends who are currently in other countries? I roll my eyes, not bothering to disguise it. Even if I had been missing, my own father wouldn’t have even been able to guess where to find me.
“And now we learn you were shacking up with my, my… my friend, my colleague, a man twice your age—”
“I am a grown adult now, Dad,” I snap. “I’m sorry that you still can’t see that. I’m sorry you think that you have the right to control me even now, but you don’t. It’s my life, and I get to decide how I spend it. I want to be with Russ.”
“Honey,” Mom begins, but my father bellows over her.
“And you.” He rounds on Russ. “After everything we’ve been through together. I never want to see your face again.”
I tense, ready to fight back more, but Russ rests a hand on my shoulder, communicating without words that it’s his turn, now.
“That’s fine, John,” Russ says, in a voice so quiet and calm that it confuses my father into clamping his mouth shut. “I’ve enjoyed our friendship over the years, I really have. But you never really saw the real me, anyway. Back when we were younger, you willfully ignored me for a while. So what difference will it make, if you do so again now?” He shakes his head, but he looks sad, too. “Our friendship was always built on half-truths anyway. Maybe it’s better to just get the whole truth out there.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” my father snaps. But underneath the anger and the bluster, I can see his emotions rising to the surface. He’s upset, too. He really does care about Russ. Even if he has a selfish, controlling way of showing it.
“I’m talking about when we were freshmen in med school,” Russ says, his voice rising, though it remains steady. “Back when I had nowhere to go, no home or money or even food. You were my best friend, John, even then, and you never even noticed. Didn’t you wonder why I looked the way I did in classes? Did you wonder why I filled my pockets with leftovers every time we splurged on a trip to the dining hall?”
My father’s face shifts from an angry red to a washed-out pale. “What… what are you talking about?”
“You really never noticed, the way I never talked about family, or the way I skipped nights out drinking with the other guys in our class…”
“I thought you were just more serious. That you wanted to study more.”
“You used to even make fun of me.” Russ laughs softly, not a happy sound. “You told me I should buy more than one shirt. You didn’t know I literally couldn’t. Because how could you guess that? You’d have to actually be paying attention to the people around you to notice it.”
My father’s mouth hangs open completely, now.
“I was homeless, John. For two whole months. And my best friend never even noticed. What kind of friendship is that?” Russ shakes his head sadly, and squeezes my hand gently, where his fingers are still entwined in mine, at our sides. “Come on, Maggie,” he murmurs in a quieter voice now. “I think our work here is done for today.”
“It most certainly is. Get out of my house. Both of you,” Dad finishes in a low, threatening growl. “And don’t let me see you at the hospital either.”
“Maggie.” My mother’s eyes finally meet mine. She tilts her head, a question written all over her face. Is this really what you want?
I might not feel bad about hurting my father right now, but I do feel bad about Mom. She didn’t ask for any of this. She’s the only one who’s always known how to stand up to Dad, but even she can’t help how he treats everyone else in his life. The only thing that breaks my heart right now is leaving her alone with him, to sort out the mess that he caused.
But what else can I do? Just like Russ is who I want to be with, Dad is who she wants to be with. I understand that. I just can’t put up with him doing this kind of stuff anymore, even for her sake.
So I squeeze Russ’s hand in return and let him lead me out of the house. Behind us, I hear my mother’s breath hitch, and I ignore a guilty twinge. She’s crying. Because of me. Because of what we decided to do just now.
But Dad’s the one who told us to leave. Dad’s the one who keeps setting all these ultimatums. I won’t fall into line after him like a good little soldier. Not anymore.
We march out onto the back porch. Once the fresh air hits, my breathing comes faster, quicker. Russ pauses just next to where he parked his car and reaches down to cup my cheeks between his palms. “You okay?” he whispers, so close our noses touch, and his breath dances like frost in the chilly morning air.
“I’m okay,” I breathe. His lips touch mine, brief and faint. Just enough to keep me standing, moving, for now. As long as I have him, I can handle this.
Then I remember everything that happened in there—everything—and a faint smile rises to my lips once more. “Did you mean it? You love me.”
His eyes dance where they find mine. “I think you knew that already, Maggie. And you love me too.”
“I do.” I grin, and he kisses me again, slower. When we break apart, I feel energized once more. Able to face all of this. I cross around to the passenger side and climb into the car with slow movements. Inside, I fasten my seat belt, and for a moment, we both just sit there and consider the big, empty, dark house. Behind us, out on the street, I spot Dad’s car parked sideways in a spot, as if they sped into a street parking spot just so they could run inside and run back out again. I guess they really were searching for me. Stopping by quickly to scan the property.
I check my phone, which I left on the seat of Russ’s car, and find a couple of missed calls, all from Mom’s line. I wonder why they only tried calling me in the morning, if they were out so early hunting the streets for me. But then I remember that I had my phone turned off back at Russ’s. I guess whatever they had to say to me, they didn’t want to do it in a voicemail.
I let out a sigh and fiddle with the phone, flipping it over between my palms. Then I slide the power button and turn it back off. I’m taking a break from the world today.
“So… where to?” Russ asks with a glance at me. We can’t go to the hospital for our shifts. Dad made it clear we wouldn’t be welcome there.
I wonder how long it will take for him to draw up severance papers. I wonder what excuse he’ll give for firing us both. It doesn’t matter. We have each other. That’s what matters.
I lean back against the seat. “Central Park?” I suggest, uncertain. At least nature might do us some good.
That’s when a palm slaps against my window, startling me. I jump nearly out of my seat. Dad’s standing by the passenger side window. He glances back over his
shoulder, where I can see Mom standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her all black outfit, the meanest glare I’ve ever seen on her face. Mom rarely ever gets angry, but oh boy, when she does…
Dad taps at the window again, a little more gently this time, and Russ and I trade glances. I shrug and nod at him, and he pushes the button to roll down the power window slowly.
“Yes?” I ask, and I hope my voice sounds as dangerous as Mom looks.
But Dad doesn’t look at me. He looks past me, at Russ. “Were you telling the truth back there?” he asks, his voice low and filled with emotion. If I didn’t know him better, I’d almost say it sounded like regret. Maybe even hurt.
“About being homeless?” Russ’s eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. “Of course. Why would I make something like that up?”
“No, no.” Dad shakes his head. Then he pauses. His face pinches with a whole new feeling. That one is definitely regret. “I mean… I suspected something was going on, at the time. But I didn’t want to bring it up. I thought you wouldn’t want to talk about it, or that you’d be embarrassed by it.”
“I was,” Russ admits quietly. He shakes his head. “But I still needed help.”
“And I should have seen that. I’m sorry.” My father clears his throat. “But no, I meant… did you mean the other thing that you said. Do you really love Maggie?”
My eyes shoot wide as I glance from my father to Russ and back.
But Russ just looks at me, not even paying attention to my dad now. “I do mean it.” Russ reaches over to touch my chin and turn my face toward his. As if I could ever turn away. He leans in and kisses me, just a quick soft peck. But one that says it all.
We’re doing this. Whether you like it or not.
Back outside the car window, my father has crossed his arms. But the look he’s giving us now isn’t the same glare of sheer fury he wore earlier. He looks pensive. Thoughtful. “Well. Don’t think I fully approve, because I do still think there’s a very wide age difference, and—”
“John,” barks my mother from the back door of the house.
It almost makes me smile. Almost.
My father clears his throat with evident difficulty. “But, Maggie… You’re right. You are an adult now. More than that, you’re a smart, capable, responsible adult. I should trust you to make your own life decisions more often.” He takes a step back from the window and glances from me to Russ and back again. When he speaks next, his eyes focus on me. “I didn’t mean what I said, earlier. I do still want to see you both again. And Maggie, this house will always be your home. As for the hospital…”
He hesitates. Sucks in a deep breath and squares his shoulders, as if he’s bracing himself for something.
“If you both want to come back to work today, you are more than welcome to. I shouldn’t fire you for having lives outside of work, or for being brave enough to stand up to me when I make a bad, blind call in terms of other peoples’ care.”
“Is this you admitting you were wrong yesterday?” I blurt, unable to help myself.
Somewhere in the distance, I catch the faint sound of my mother’s laughter. My father, on the other hand, only scowls even more deeply. “I did not say wrong, precisely.” Then he catches himself and clamps his lips together. “But I was, Maggie. You were right. The people in the emergency needed your care and attention more than one wealthy board member did. Thank you for reminding me of my priorities, because I seem to have forgotten them somewhat, in recent years.”
A slow smile breaks out across my face. “It’s okay, Dad.”
“Well.” He clears his throat again, all gruffness now. He’s never been the type to talk about emotions for long, and situations in which he made a mistake make him even less comfortable with it. Admitting mistakes isn’t exactly his forte, clearly. “I’ll see you back at work in a few hours, then?” He glances past me at the clock.
I hesitate. This is it. A way to reverse what happened yesterday. A way to walk back all the drama and upset, so I can go back to my normal, easy life. The life I was living perfectly happily before Russ came along.
But was I really happy? Or was I just biding time, treading water at the hospital, while missing out on chasing my own dreams?
I exchange another long, pointed look with Russ, at this point. He shrugs one shoulder and nods, as if to say, Up to you. And for once, I realize, it is. My future and my destiny are in my own hands.
In fact, they always have been. I just needed to realize it myself. And thanks to Russ believing in me and helping me stand up to my father, I know it now.
“Actually…” I say slowly. My father blinks. But I force myself to meet his gaze and hold it. If I’m going to do this right now, the least I can do is look him in the eye. “I appreciate the offer to come back and work with you again, Dad. I really do. And maybe Russ will want to, I’m not sure. But… this hospital was never the right place for me. It’s time for me to finally follow my heart, Dad. Which means that I can’t let anything hold me back. Not your expectations, or the safe career path I should follow. I have to do what feels right.”
“And what is that, exactly?” he asks, arms crossed, a look of stern disapproval on his face.
But he didn’t say no, I remind myself. And even if he does, I know how to counteract it now. I know how to stand up to him, the way Mom does. The way she’s always been able to.
“I plan to join Doctors Without Borders,” I say. “I’m going to help people. The way I’ve wanted to do ever since I started school.”
Beside me, Russ weaves his fingers through mine, in a show of silent support. And right then and there, I know, without ever needing an answer back… this is happening.
I’m going to follow my dreams now.
14
Wind whips at my hair, tugging long strands of it across my face. I reach up to gather it into a ponytail once more, then I turn my face toward the sun and breathe a deep, satisfied sigh. The beach is gorgeous at this time of day, nearly deserted. White sand as far as the eye can see in both directions. And the water is a clear, crystalline blue, lapping up at the shore.
I kick off my shoes and wade through the sand, savoring the way it feels between my toes. When I reach the water’s edge, I dip a toe in, and suppress a shiver at how cold it feels.
Well. We all have to make compromises. You can jet off to save the world, but it won’t always be at the warmest, most bathwater tub-like beach. Guess Russ and I will have to wait until our next assignment for that.
Speaking of, I hear a call behind me, and I turn, raising a hand to shade my eyes from the sun. Russ waves as he jogs down onto the sand behind me. He’s freshly showered, which is unusual. We only get two showers a week where we’ve been stationed. And behind him, now that I’m facing away from the water and the sandy beach, and back across the island itself, there is wreckage visible everywhere. Downed power lines snarl and tangle in treetops, debris and pieces of broken houses and shanty town dwellings scatter the dunes that separate the beach front from the even more broken and pitted parts of the road on this side of the island.
But I can’t help the smile that breaks out across my face, seeing him. Russ is dressed, as usual, in his work scrubs. Same as me. Our shifts are about to begin. But he knew where to find me, naturally. As many mornings as I can, anytime that I’m up and ready for long enough before work starts, I try to make it down to the beach. I love to wake up like this, facing the wild ocean.
It reminds me to ground myself in the here and now. It reminds me that as hard as this job can be some days, it’s worth it. There’s a reason I’m here, in this particular part of the earth, which has gone through so much recently.
“There’s my little beach lover.” Russ reaches my side and wraps his arms around my waist. I tilt my head back, and his mouth finds mine, his kiss slow and searing. When we break apart again, he’s smiling, his eyes soft where they fix on mine. “I knew I’d find you here.”
I tuck into his side and let him steer me
back toward the roads. As we walk, I find my shoes again and slip back into them. “You know me too well,” I say, suppressing a smile.
“Come on,” he murmurs. “We can come back here for sunset later. I get off around 6, not sure about you?”
“Same.” I smile, as we work our ways back over the dunes.
Puerto Rico is our first deployment, after another hurricane swept through just a couple of weeks ago. The devastation it left behind is heartbreaking, as is the plight of many of the people who need our help here. But being here with Russ, doing everything we can to save the lives of the people who were injured in the hurricane, or by debris falling afterward, or from electrical burns or flooding after that… it’s where we’re supposed to be. How we’re meant to give back to the world that brought the two of us together.
“Do you ever think this is what your dream was about?” I ask quietly, and then thumb over my shoulder toward the beautiful, sad, empty beach. “That time you told me you dreamt about getting me on a beach all alone with you…”
He chuckles. “Don’t be silly. I told you. That beach had warm water, none of this Atlantic Ocean surf.” His arm, still wrapped around my waist casually, squeezes me tight. “Someday we’ll go find that beach together, though. I promise.”
I smile up at him, so broad it makes my eyes crinkle. I love when he talks like that. When he reminds me that we have our whole lives ahead of us.
We reach the main road. One end of it is set up with makeshift cabins for us, the crew here to help. The other end holds the big white medical tents, all marked with Red Cross flags. Doctors Without Borders didn’t exactly pan out, at least not yet—it turns out they have a crazy long wait list. But Russ and I are both on it, together. And I think in the meantime we wound up doing the next best option.
When we reach the medical tent compound, which in and of itself almost looks and operates like a miniature hospital, sprawled between tents instead of in fancy office building wings on the Upper West Side, Russ gives my ass one last hard slap.