by Rose Marini
Allison was grateful to put off their inevitable conversation for a while—she needed to clear her head and figure out what she was going to say to Emma. Mulling over her options, she elected to treat her in a polite, professional manner, as if she was simply an acquaintance. She had probably forgotten all about me before I showed up today, Allison told herself, unaware that nothing could be further from the truth.
Emma tipped her blonde head back against the wall with a thump, recalling the hurt and confusion she had felt when Allison disappeared from her life. Back then she had convinced herself that it was natural for friends to grow apart, and natural to be sad about the increasing distance. She had refused to acknowledge that of the many friends she had lost touch with since college, Allison was the only one she missed with an unbearable ache. For months after their last conversation, she snatched up her phone every time it chirped, hoping that it might be her Ally. Her heart stopped each time she spotted a brunette with shoulder-length hair. Over time, her hope faded, but the elation that leaped in her chest at seeing Allison again made it clear that she hadn't been able to subdue her affection for the other woman.
2
During a break between two presentations, Devon leaned over, smirking. “So, can I call you Ally?”
Allison glared at him. “You may not.”
Despite her glare, Allison liked Devon. He had provided a highly entertaining whispered commentary during the orientation presentations, offering a great distraction from Emma’s unexpected presence. His warmth and friendliness balanced his sarcastic sense of humor.
“Okay, I have to ask. You looked like you had seen a ghost when Emma walked into the room. Ex-girlfriend?”
Allison’s cheeks flamed as she stuttered, “No! Just an old friend. We went to college together.”
Devon raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Whatever you say. Only she couldn’t take her eyes off you for the rest of the tour.”
Another glare directed at him did nothing to stop his chuckling. She ducked her head down, fighting the familiar itch of tears. It was all too much—the stress of her first day, seeing her first love again.
He noticed her consternation and caught his breath, expression apologetic. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. Let me make it up to you. You don’t know anyone around here, right? You should come over for dinner! My boyfriend is a chef and he promised to make a fabulous meal to celebrate my first day of residency. Luckily for me, Mondays are his days off. You don’t mind vegetarian food, do you? Ben is on some new health kick.”
“Thanks for the offer,” she responded, sincerely touched by his generosity. “But I need to pick up Sammy from doggie daycare and I don’t want to leave him alone at home since we just moved here and all.”
“Bring him! Princess loves big dogs.”
“You named your dog Princess? Seriously?” Allison laughed. Devon had conveniently left out that little detail when they had talked about their dogs earlier.
“Hell yes I did, and if you mock her you are no longer invited to our home,” Devon pointed a warning finger at her. Allison rolled her eyes at him, grinning in spite of herself.
“Are you sure it won’t be any trouble? I don’t want to intrude on a romantic evening.”
“Nope! I’m texting Ben now so you can’t back out,” he told her cheerfully. She laughed, thanking him again.
A moment later Devon glanced up and levered himself out of his chair, whispering, “Incoming.”
Confused, Allison looked up to see Emma making her way towards them. She felt as though ice encased her body even though she was sweating again. God, she was breathtaking, even in baggy scrubs. Her eyes were the same captivating blue that she remembered. Allison’s eyes traced the familiar lines of her stubborn chin and rounded cheeks. Unbidden, the thought of pressing her lips to Emma’s fair skin rose in her mind.
“Hi,” said Emma breathlessly.
“Hi,” Allison responded, blood pounding through her veins. She briefly considered rising—to shake her hand? offer her a hug?—but thought better of it.
They stared at each other; the silence stretched a beat longer than was socially acceptable. Finally, Allison spoke. “So, what a crazy coincidence, right? That we end up at the same residency?”
Emma let out a relieved laugh. “So weird! Out of all the emergency med residencies, we match with the same one.”
Allison gave her a small smile, mind blank. It’s your turn to say something to continue the conversation, her brain yelled.
“So… how’ve things been here?” Allison waved to indicate the hospital. “Have you liked it?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Emma said enthusiastically. “The staff is so nice and supportive, I’ve learned a ton… it’s been a really incredible experience.”
Both women relaxed slightly as the conversation flowed. They chatted for a few minutes, sharing the basic story of their last few years. Desire raced through Emma’s veins, just like it had all those years ago. She noticed that though Allison was polite, she was distant. Well, it’s been a long time, she thought to herself. It’s not like we would automatically become best friends again. Shoving aside her consternation over Allison’s coolness, she said, “Listen, do you want to get dinner sometime? I can give you some tips about surviving residency if you’d like.”
Allison hesitated, wary. Even as her brain protested that this was a terrible idea, she should keep her distance from Emma, her traitorous mouth agreed. “That sounds great.”
“I’m sure I’ll need all the advice I can get,” she added hastily. Emma’s smile lit the room and sent tingles over Allison’s skin. It’s not fair for one person to be so beautiful, she thought to herself.
Elated by reasons she didn’t entirely understand, Emma excused herself as Dr. Pacheo beckoned her to discuss the rest of Orientation Day. Allison let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. A small voice in her head cautioned that spending time with Emma one-on-one was certainly a terrible idea. She overrode it. Emma had asked her to dinner! Sure, it was only to talk about residency, but she had still initiated the idea of them spending time together. See, there you go already, getting your hopes up again, the voice chided her.
I’m not getting my hopes up. It’s purely a professional move, trying to gather all the information available to be successful, she responded to it.
The rest of the day was a blur of presentations and introductions. Afterward, Emma sought Allison out again, asking eagerly, “So, when are you free for dinner? What about tonight?”
“I’m sorry, I already have plans for tonight,” Allison responded, ignoring the thought that she’d rather have dinner with Emma than Devon and his boyfriend tonight. “How about tomorrow?”
Emma masked her disappointment, responding enthusiastically, “Of course! I’ll make reservations at one of my favorite places. Do you mind Italian?”
“You know I love it,” Allison grinned. They both recalled the many evenings spent trying new recipes during college, many of them centering around pasta, Allison’s favorite food. They settled the details and Emma floated away, shocked but ecstatic by how her world had flipped in the last 24 hours.
Allison pulled up to a small, well-kept house in a cozy neighborhood near the hospital. Sammy wagged his tail in the seat next to her; he was always excited for a new adventure. She grinned when she noticed that the flowers lining the brick walkway were arranged in a subtle rainbow pattern. Devon opened the door with a flourish before she could ring the bell, exclaiming, "Welcome to our humble abode! This must be Sammy."
He bent down and the dog covered his face with kisses. A tiny Chihuahua danced under their feet, thin tail whipping back and forth. The pup gave Allison a few curious sniffs and turned to plant her front legs on Sammy's side. Sammy tumbled dramatically to the floor, exposing his stomach to Princess's playful nips.
Allison laughed at the unlikely pair. "I guess they get along!"
Devon led her past a bright, inviting living r
oom and into the kitchen where delicious smells filled the air. A slender, dark-skinned man stood at the oven, stirring a steaming pot. His black hair was cropped close to his head and tattoos covered both forearms.
"Allison, this is the chef of the house, Ben Reynolds."
Ben spun to glare mockingly at Devon. "Is that what I am to you? A personal chef?"
Devon crossed the room to capture Ben's mouth under his. "No, light of my life, moon and stars in my sky. You're also my laundry man, gardener, and best friend. Happy now?"
Ben smacked his shoulder playfully but kissed him on the cheek all the same. Allison looked down, embarrassed to be intruding on such an intimate moment. A pang of loneliness rolled through her. It had been a long time since she had felt cherished like that. Still, at least she didn't need to split her time between her studies and a relationship. It was better to stay focused. Besides, she had Sammy. She glanced around for her dog and giggled at the sight of Sammy upside down with Princess laying on his chest. Their mouths were wide open as their heads dodged from side to side, pretending to bite each other.
Devon followed her line of sight and laughed, commenting, "I told you that Princess likes big dogs!"
Ben stepped towards her and extended a warm hand. He radiated a quiet wisdom, Allison decided. His eyes hinted at a painful past, while his welcoming smile exuded kindness and understanding.
“Allison, it’s great to meet you. I’m so glad you could join us for dinner. Devon tells me that you don’t know anyone here, so we’ve officially decided to adopt you.”
Allison laughed, warmed to the core by the kindness of people she had just met. She quickly relaxed around Devon and Ben, touched by their hospitality and gently teasing banter. Though small, their home was quaint and inviting, covered in eclectic tapestries, figurines, and plants. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. It had been an overwhelming day, between the stress of hearing the massive expectations placed on ER residents and the shock of seeing Emma again. The comfort of a glass of wine, friendly company, and two happy puppies did much to raise her spirits. They enjoyed Ben’s delicious dinner, composed of a pear and kale salad, pesto pasta with mozzarella and tomatoes, and fruit and dark chocolate fondue for dessert. Allison leaned back, stuffed, when a plaintive whimper emerged from under her elbow. Princess was begging to sit on her lap. Laughing, she picked up the pup, who immediately curled up in her lap, nuzzling her hand with a pointed nose. Emma teased Devon, “Her name certainly seems to fit her personality.”
“Yup, that’s my girl! She knows exactly what she wants and how she wants it, and she’s not afraid to say it.”
“Clearly the apple didn’t fall far from the tree,” Allison shot back, referring to Devon’s complaints that Ben was dirtying the freshly-cleaned counters earlier. Devon rolled his eyes at her as he stood to clear the plates. He wore a scheming look as he returned from the sink. “So, now can I ask why you looked so freaked out when you saw Emma today?”
Allison hesitated, absentmindedly running her hand over Princess’s short fur. Surely she could trust her new friends to keep her feelings to themselves. They knew what it was like to be queer. “Like I said, we were friends in college. She was my chemistry tutor. We were…close. Closer than a typical friendship. But she’s straight, and I hadn’t come to embrace my sexuality yet. I never told her how I felt.”
Devon and Ben gave her sympathetic looks, indicating to her that they both knew the pain of falling for someone who wasn’t even queer, much less return their feelings. There was a certain exquisite pain in loving a straight woman, she had decided long ago. There’s the fundamental ache of knowing deep down that the other person will never see you the way you see them. But then sometimes there’s also the hope-inspiring gray areas: eye contact that lasts a little too long, late night phone calls, little things that make you wonder maybe, maybe, maybe.
“The prospect of having to see her all the time again…” Her voice trailed off and she swallowed. “See, I never even told her why I stopped talking to her. I just kind of…vanished. I felt terrible but she was raised so religiously that I was afraid to hear her reaction when I told her I was gay. I couldn’t handle the thought of her hating me or being disgusted by how I felt.” She was quiet for a minute and then words tumbled out, “And then she just appeared out of nowhere today and everything came rushing back, and I told her I’d go to dinner with her tomorrow! What am I going to tell her? How do I explain the fact that I completely disappeared on her? How am I supposed to deal with being around her again? I’m just here to become an ER doctor. I’ve wanted this for so long, practically my whole life, and I don’t have time to be distracted!”
She felt the warning pain of tears behind her eyes and looked down, willing her emotions back under control. For someone who rarely cried, two times in a day might be a record, she thought to herself bitterly. Emma had always been able to get under her skin. A warm hand covered hers; Devon gave her a comforting smile. “You’ll be okay. I can run interference between the two of you if you’d like. And I don’t think we’ll be spending that much time with the third-years anyways. I heard that we’re mostly paired with the fourth-years when we’re on shift. Supposedly they’re better at making sure we don’t fuck up too badly,” he joked. His eyes crinkled in a devious grin. “And you don’t have to go to dinner; I can manufacture a dire emergency to get you out of it. I’m very prone to emergencies, you know.”
Allison laughed in spite of herself. “Thank you,” she whispered, touched once again by his generosity. “I do think I should go to dinner though, if only to clear the air and make things seem as normal as possible.”
She refused to admit to herself that part of her desperately wanted to spend time with Emma.
Ben spoke quietly. “I know we just met, so forgive me if I speak out of turn but… Do you think it’s wise to spend that much time with her alone? Dinners can get romantic, all the candlelight, maybe you share a bottle of wine… I worry that you might find yourself right back where you were all those years ago, pining over someone who doesn’t return your feelings.”
She spoke slowly, pondering, “I think I can keep my feelings under control for one dinner. Like I said, I have no interest in being in a relationship right now. My career is my only focus. Besides, I really can’t just ignore her or shut her out. We were such good friends for a long time, and I know I hurt her when I disappeared. I think I owe it to her to be civil—friendly, even.”
Both men examined her silently, concerned looks on their faces. Their protectiveness warmed her—how lucky she was to discover friends who cared so deeply, even though they had just met. She leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table, careful to not disturb the napping Princess. “Look, if I feel myself getting emotionally attached, I’ll send you guys an SOS and you can manufacture an emergency. Does that make you feel better?”
They exchanged glances—Devon’s clearly exasperated, Ben’s much more measured—but nodded all the same.
3
Allison dressed carefully the next morning, as she always did. Uncharacteristically, so did Emma. She was more of a scrubs-every-day kind of person; dressing nicely wasn't worth the effort when she had no one to impress. Patients didn’t seem to care too much about her appearance; usually, they were distracted by much more pressing concerns, like staying alive. After pacing between her closet and mirror for several minutes, she finally donned a light blue blouse that highlighted her eyes and hinted at the curve of her breasts, paired with light gray slacks and black pumps. She sighed as she tugged at her hair, wishing it would do something other than fall straight and flat. A light coat of mascara and pink lipstick completed her look.
"Hush, Louie, you've already had your breakfast," she scolded the meowing calico cat that jumped on the bathroom countertop.
When she walked into the kitchen, Emma's roommate, Sarah, raised an eyebrow at Emma's unusually polished appearance. "What's the occasion?" she asked dryly.
Emma ducked as a blush spread over her cheeks. "No occasion," she responded airily. "I just felt like dressing up for a change."
"Suuure," responded a skeptical Sarah. "Oh, you gave orientation to the first years yesterday, right? One of them must've caught your eye." She smirked.
Emma's skin flamed and Sarah jubilantly chanted, "Emma's got a crush, Emma's got a crush!"
Emma cursed her pale, blush-prone skin for the thousandth time. "You’re being ridiculous," she shot back at her roommate as she rolled her eyes.
"Come on, tell me about it! I've never seen you this red in the entire twenty-nine years I've known you."
Emma and Sarah had grown up together; their mothers had been best friends for decades after meeting in a birthing class and giving birth to two girls just days apart. As children, Sarah loved to tease Emma for being almost a whole four days younger than she was. It was a surprise when they had both ended up back their hometown, Emma for emergency medicine residency and Sarah for law school. She had graduated a few months ago and was already working at one of the most prestigious law firms in the city. When Sarah's mom passed away the previous year after a long battle with breast cancer, Emma mourned alongside her. She had been a second mother to Emma, one much more laid back and understanding than her own mother. Emma's mom could be prickly and had extraordinarily high expectations for her only daughter. When they clashed, Emma sought refuge with Sarah's family, moved by the unconditional love they extended to her. Sarah's mom was the one who encouraged Emma to follow her dream of becoming a physician instead of becoming a lawyer like her mother had been before she quit to raise Emma and her brother. Ironically, Sarah decided to pursue law school partway through college, so in a way Emma's mother got the lawyer daughter she always wanted.