by Cara Malone
“Ma,” Alex said as she peeled the remote out of her hand. “Wake up, ma.”
“Hmm?”
“Did you fall asleep out here?” Alex asked.
She couldn’t remember the last time her mom had done that, not even bothering to get up and brush her teeth before bed. It made Alex’s chest feel heavy to see her sleeping there. The truth was that they would both be backsliding if they didn’t keep their guard up.
“I guess I did,” her mom said. Then she added with a shrug, “Oh well, I just would have ended up here again anyway.”
She reached for the remote, but Alex held it away from her.
“No, ma,” she said. “We can’t keep doing this.”
She put the remote into the back pocket of her pajamas, then went over to the front door and stepped into a pair of sneakers that she’d left there the previous night. When she came back into the living room and bent over behind the television, unplugging things, her mom’s eyes went wide.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“What we both should have done a long time ago,” Alex said. She picked up the television, slinging the power cord over the top of the screen as she hoisted the whole thing under her arm and added, “And what dad would want us to do.”
Her mom didn’t object. She just watched from the couch as Alex carried the television outside. She set it down on the curb at the end of the driveway, laying the remote beside it. It might make a good Christmas gift for someone, and she knew it wouldn’t last more than an hour out there. When she came back into the house, her mother didn’t argue or try to stop her, but she was trembling slightly.
“It’s going to be okay, ma,” Alex said, and then she went into the kitchen to fix them breakfast.
It was easy to tell herself that she wasn’t backsliding during the hours in the day when Alex successfully kept herself busy. It was in the quiet moments that her mind always drifted back to Megan. Her anger faded as the days turned into weeks, and she was left with a profound sense of frustration. Why did Megan have to throw away what they’d been building like that? The more she thought about it, the more Alex was certain it had been a calculated move meant to push her away.
She picked up her phone and opened her old string of text messages with Megan often in those quiet moments, sometimes just to mourn what she’d lost, and other times to wonder what would happen if she reached out to her. It was clear by then that Megan had no intention of contacting Alex, but maybe she could get through to her if they just talked. Inevitably, Alex always put the phone back down again—she had hurt enough, and texting Megan would do nothing but reopen those wounds.
Then one night, Alex was scrolling through those old messages and her mother popped her head into the doorway.
“Hey, baby,” she said. “I’m going to make us something for dinner. Spaghetti okay with you?”
“Yeah,” Alex said, jumping a little bit and holding the phone down by her side as a guilty streak shot through her. She knew she shouldn’t be reading those old messages, torturing herself. She probably should have just deleted the texts and Megan’s number along with them, but she didn’t want her mother to know what she was doing.
Her mom disappeared down the hall, about to cook her first meal in over a year, and Alex thought she ought to go help her. Before she got that far, though, she heard a faint ringing sound. Looking down at her phone, she realized with horror that she’d accidentally bumped the screen, and she was currently dialing Megan.
Before she could end the call, Megan picked up, and Alex heard her voice coming faintly through the speaker. “Hello?”
“Shit,” Alex muttered to herself, her heart rising into her throat as she brought the phone to her ear and said, “Megan?”
“Hey,” Megan answered, and she sounded surprised, but not displeased. “What’s up?”
“I kind of pocket dialed you,” Alex said. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Megan said.
Alex was about to hang up the phone, when instead she asked, “Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Yeah,” Megan answered. “Definitely.”
“I just feel like things between us ended so abruptly,” Alex hurriedly added. “It’s just hard to get over something like that without any closure.”
“Yeah, I’ve been having trouble with it, too,” Megan admitted, which surprised Alex. “I’m sorry that you saw that kiss.”
“You’re sorry that I saw it?” Alex asked, incredulous. “What’s that supposed to mean? How many others were there before the one that I caught you in?”
“No, no,” Megan hurriedly answered. “There were no others. I just meant that I wish it hadn’t happened because I know I hurt you.”
“Then why did you do it?” Alex demanded.
“I didn’t, at first,” Megan said. “Chloe kissed me, and I should have pushed her away but instead I let it continue. I kind of lost my mind for a second.”
“Bullshit,” Alex said. “You’re using the insanity defense?”
“Okay, fine,” Megan answered. “I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“I was afraid because you and I were getting closer, and I didn’t want it to end the way my first relationship ended,” Megan said. “I dated her for a long time and it got to the point where we were only together because it was easier than trying to separate our lives. We lived together, we were in the same sorority–”
“You’re a sorority girl?” Alex snorted, unable to help herself.
“Social chair three years running,” Megan said with a smirk. “Can you picture it?”
“No,” Alex said, shaking her head.
“That’s because it’s wasn’t really my thing. I did it for her,” Megan said. “I changed my life in a lot of ways for her, and it was a long time before I realized that I didn’t recognize myself anymore. So we broke up.”
“I’m sure that was hard, but it happens,” Alex said. “That doesn’t mean you’re responsible for it.”
“Oh, I am,” Megan said. “It wasn’t the fact that we broke up. It was the way I handled it. I basically just shut her out of my life one day because I thought it wouldn’t hurt as bad that way. I didn’t think about how awful that would be for her.”
“So you were trying to protect me by doing the exact same thing?” Alex asked with a sigh.
“Obviously,” Megan said with a small laugh. “It sounds pretty stupid when you put it that way.”
“It sounds really stupid,” Alex said. Then after a small pause, she asked tentatively, “So have you learned your lesson?”
“About kissing my roommate and leaving a trail of destruction in my wake?” Megan asked. “I never meant to do any of that. I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I don’t know how I can promise that it won’t happen again.”
Alex sighed again and said, “How about you start with not kissing other girls?”
“I can do that, but I can’t promise that I’m not going to hurt you in some other way,” Megan said.
“I can’t promise not to hurt you, either,” Alex said. “No one can. Pain is an inevitable part of life.”
“I can’t do this, Alex,” Megan said. “I know that it probably sounds so trivial after what you’ve gone through, but I can’t be broken again. Not now. I’m sorry.”
And then the line went dead, and Alex just stared at her phone for a minute, dumbstruck. Had that really just happened? She got up from her desk and went into the kitchen, where her mother was just beginning to boil water in one of the copper pots that came from none other than the Home Shopping Network.
“Can we have spaghetti some other night, ma?” Alex asked.
“Sure, baby,” her mother said. “Is everything okay?”
“I would love to get out of the house for a while,” Alex answered, and when her mom asked what she had in mind, Alex grinned.
The shopping mall that Alex brought her mother to was crowded with people preparing for the upcoming holidays. Alex felt anxi
ous as she drove, and even more so as they went inside—she was taking charge and attempting to draw both of them out of their shells, but really, she had no idea whether this was a good idea or a horrible one.
She drove past the mall that they always used to go to with her father, and instead went a few miles closer to downtown Chicago to the shopping mall that her dad rarely visited. It was a longer drive from the house and it had more expensive shops, but Alex thought the familiarity of the place might help her mom. She’d begun to come back to life after Alex threw away the television, but she still hadn’t left the house very many times in the past year, and Alex thought it would be best to ease her into it with the most familiar setting she could find. She watched her as they walked through the crowded corridors and poked their heads tentatively into a few small boutique shops.
“Will you quit it?” her mom snapped about halfway through their second store.
“Quit what?” Alex asked with a frown.
“Quit looking at me like you’re Jane Goodall and I’m an ape,” she said. “Like you’re waiting for me to do something crazy.”
“I’m sorry,” Alex said, backing up a few paces and giving her mom a little more space. She watched her mom pick up a cashmere scarf hanging on a row of hooks on the wall, running her hand along the soft fabric, and when she saw the price, she laughed and hung it back up.
“They had one just like it on the air last week,” she whispered to Alex. “Twenty dollars less.”
“Did you buy one?” Alex asked, and her mother huffed.
“No,” she said, but then she cracked a smile. “I bought two. Yours is light blue and you’re getting it for Christmas.”
Alex laughed and breathed a sigh of relief. Her mom seemed to be doing okay after all. They spent about an hour winding their way through the smaller stores, not buying anything. Alex only had her mother to shop for, and her mom had already bought presents for every holiday and gift-giving occasion from now until the apocalypse thanks to the Home Shopping Network.
By the time they got to the big department store at the other end of the mall, they were laughing and joking and having a good time people-watching like they used to do when Alex was a kid. They were walking behind a large family, the mother weighed down with shopping bags and her five kids taking up the whole aisle as they munched on various treats from the food court. For the first time in weeks, Alex didn’t feel like she was in a hurry, rushing to get somewhere and find something to distract her, or going to class so she could focus all of her attention there. She felt at peace.
And then one of the kids started choking.
The soft pretzel in his hand fell to the floor and his mom, oblivious thanks to the mayhem of the mall and the wall of shopping bags she carried, just kept walking. The kid turned to one of his older siblings for help, and Alex saw that his lips were a light shade of blue. That’s when his mom noticed, turning around and dropping all of her shopping bags as her eyes went wide. She was frozen in shock, but Alex knew exactly what to do.
She turned the kid around and dropped to her knees to get down on his level, then wrapped her arms around him and pumped her fist into his abdomen. His lips turned a darker shade of blue and his mother screeched as Alex tried again. This time a chunk of barely chewed pretzel flew out of his mouth and he started gasping.
Alex let go and stood up, and before she knew what was happening the kid’s mom threw her arms around Alex’s neck, nearly knocking her backward with the force of her gratitude.
“Thank you,” she said as she released Alex from her grip. “Oh my god, I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Alex said, and the woman tried to press a twenty-dollar bill into her palm, but after a few rounds back and forth with her, Alex was able to give it back, and the family went on their way. Alex took a deep, shaky breath—the first one she’d consciously taken since the kid started choking—and a smile formed on her lips.
“Good work, kiddo,” her mom said, patting her back. Alex looked at her, and her mom was smiling. “You’re going to make a great paramedic when you graduate.”
She looked proud, and it filled Alex with gratitude. No matter how many times she’d had to argued for her decision to enroll at Evanston instead of going back to the University of Illinois, she knew that she’d made the right decision. Now her mom understood it, too.
Alex let out a sigh and said, “Thanks. I was about to suggest we go to the food court to get our dinner, but now maybe your appetite is spoiled?”
“Nope, I’m starving,” her mom answered. “I will pass on the soft pretzels, though.”
Alex laughed, and then in a more somber tone she said, “I’m sorry I threw away the television.”
“It needed to be done,” her mom replied. “We don’t need it anymore.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Megan
Megan and Chloe were walking to class on the last day before Thanksgiving break. Chloe was talking about her research assignment and her excitement over the upcoming module, which would be on a new subject after the break. That explained why Ivy liked her so much as a study partner, because aside from throwing shade at her competitors, Megan had never heard Ivy utter a single thing that wasn’t school-related.
For her part, Megan was thinking about her recent conversation with Alex, and wondering why she didn’t have the guts to just apologize and tell her that she wanted to be with her. Megan hadn’t stopped thinking about Alex since the night she kissed Chloe and messed it all up, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to take the necessary leap of faith… if Alex would even be up for something like that after how she treated her.
When Megan and Chloe got to the lecture hall, the room was already nearly full so they found seats toward the back. Dr. Morrow had brought in a guest speaker, and Ivy was sitting front and center with her pen already poised over her notebook. Megan rolled her eyes and slumped into her seat while Chloe sat arrow-straight and alert beside her.
“Good morning, everyone,” Dr. Morrow said as she approached the podium at the front of the room. “Today I’ve got a special treat in store for you, a little extra motivation to get you through the upcoming holiday break. If you please, join me in welcoming Dr. Lily Thomas, our guest speaker for the morning session.”
The room broke into polite applause, and a woman sitting in the front row stood up and approached the podium. She was tall and remarkably pretty, with ebony skin and a hundred-watt smile that Megan could tell was friendly and genuine from all the way at the back of the room. She put her hands on either side of the lectern and said into the microphone, “Hello, I’m Dr. Thomas. Thank you for having me.”
Her voice boomed into the room and a few people winced while she laughed, took a step back, and said, “Sorry about that. I’m not used to being amplified.”
Megan could hear Ivy laughing from the front row. Suck up. Dr. Morrow made a quick adjustment to the microphone and then sat down in an open seat in the front row. She was just one chair away from Ivy, and that was probably making her day. Dr. Thomas continued, at a safe distance from the microphone this time.
“I’m a third-year resident in the pediatric department at Lakeside Hospital, and Dr. Morrow invited me here to talk to you all about the philosophy behind the phrase, first do no harm,” she said. “Who can tell me where that saying comes from?”
Ivy straightened up and shot her hand into the air, answering before Dr. Thomas could even finish pointing at her. “It’s from the Latin primum non nocere.”
“Excellent,” Dr. Thomas said. “It’s something that we hear a lot in medicine, and we generally understand that it means our first obligation to our patients is to avoid medical intervention that will do more harm than good. Seems like a fine principle to live by, right?”
She paused, and a round of nods and murmurs of assent went through the room.
“It is,” she said. “It is. Except when you let it paralyze you. All of you
are at the half-way point of your medical school training, and your interactions with patients are going to become more frequent and more hands-on very soon. A lot of the time, medical students will get a case of the yips at this point in their careers, where they feel like they have a whole lot of knowledge but very little practical experience. Now that it’s time to work on real patients, they find that they are afraid to do harm, to screw something up, to fail. So they do nothing.”
Megan sat up a little straighter in her chair. Yeah, she thought. That was exactly what she had been trying to do with Alex—avoid leaving her worse than when she met her. And she failed miserably.
“Let me tell you all a story from my childhood,” Dr. Thomas said. “It’s going to sound like a tangent, but I promise you’ll start to see where I’m going with it soon. To set the scene, I was eight years old, with two older brothers who never wanted anything to do with me because they were teenagers and I was an annoying little sister. My family went camping one weekend when I was in the second grade, and without their friends around, my brothers had to resort to playing with little old me.”
A few people laughed, and Megan smiled. It was a feeling she could relate to—she never wanted anything to do with her younger brother Finn when she was a kid, and he was always so grateful when she’d throw him a bone now and then and act like he wasn’t an annoying little twerp.
“My parents had just finished setting up the tents and building the fire to cook dinner,” Dr. Thomas said. “They went down to the lake not far from the campsite to catch a few fish, and my brothers and I were playing the most pathetic game of football ever. Okay, I guess you couldn’t call it that. They were tossing the ball back and forth to each other and I was running around like a lunatic, demanding loudly that they pass me the ball.”