by Nella Tyler
I disagreed with the idea that Tim was anything like him, but I certainly wasn’t going to tell Phil that. If he wanted to believe that he had a legitimate excuse for why he and his son didn’t get along, it wasn’t for me to ruin it with my own opinions.
After all, I didn’t actually didn’t know either one of them.
“Yeah, right!” Phil barked as his teasing tone returned. “It’s taken me seventy-five years to admit my faults and my shortcomings. Our paths might be drastically different, but our drives are a mirror image of one another.”
“But, Mr. Meck, you came back.” I replied, taking a chance on the idea that he, like his son had left. Mr. Meck sighed and shook his head.
“Not soon enough, my dear. Not before I nearly lost everything I was always too dumb to realize I had.”
“I’m sure your son will come around,” I assured once again, hoping I was right. “After all, he has you to draw experience from.” I grinned.
“Doc, Tim thought this well of knowledge and experience ran dry years ago and never bothered to dig any deeper…” His eyes glazed over with sadness before he hastily shook his head, fighting against the emotion that plagued him. “But thanks. I do appreciate your kind words. You remind me of my late wife.”
Thinking about her brought a beam and a brightness back to his face that seemed to radiate through his entire body. “Maria was a wonderful woman. She always knew what to say and how to get this old bear to come off his high horse.” He chuckled. “She could disarm me with a look faster than anyone I’ve ever known. Knew how to handle Tim, too. She encouraged him to go, follow his dreams. I told her that if he left, he’d never come back, but she always had hope.”
He sighed and turned his head up, gazing toward the ceiling as though he was gazing at her in his mind’s eye. After a moment, he shook his head and looked straight back at me.
“Mind you, she didn’t care if he came back or stayed out there with all the crazies. She only wanted him to be happy. I wanted to know that he wouldn’t abandon her if I wasn’t to make it. I never trusted that he would come back, even for her. Hell, I was shocked to see that he cared enough to come see me.”
He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly as he looked back towards the ceiling. “I miss her, though. She’d know what to do. She’d help knock some sense into Tim’s arrogant skull…” He chuckled. “She always knew how to get through to me, after all.”
Watching him, I could tell he had truly been in love. It was easy to see not only the pain he had, missing her like he did, but also the love he still and would always hold for her.
“It seems like you loved her very much and that she meant a great deal to you.”
“Everything,” he insisted.
I sensed that he wanted to say more, but refrained, for one reason or another.
“I hope to have a love like that one day,” I sighed, overwhelmed and in awe at the beauty and power of true soulmates.
Seeing the look in Phil’s eyes now, it was another example of what I already wholeheartedly believed: love does transcend death and tragedy.
Being a physician and having to deal with the reality of death more often than I would ever want to admit, I had to believe that. I had to know that the spirits of those who passed on were memorialized in the hearts and minds of their loved ones.
Seeing Phil talk about his late wife gave me hope, not only for finding a love like the one he had, but also keeping faith in that love, no matter what happened.
Phil did not react right away and for a moment, I actually thought I might have said something wrong. However, when he finally came out of his thoughts and turned toward me, his eyes were genuinely kind.
“Dr. Barnes, I’ve seen the way you are with patients and colleagues alike. You’re a good person and because of that, I know that you will find your true love. You’re still young. It might not happen for a little while, but remember, patience is a virtue for a reason and once you find that love, you would do it all over again, a million times. No matter the wait, nor the span of time you have together, it will always be worth it.”
I grinned at him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Thank you,” I told him, hoping he was right.
As soon as I left the hospital after my shift, I drove right to Michelle’s house, hoping to get a nap in before everyone woke up for the day. We had plans to go shopping, and I didn’t think it would be worth wasting the time to go all the way home, so I let myself in and fell asleep on her couch.
Having actually put a fair amount of time into not only the functionality but also the comfort of her home, Michelle’s couch was far more comfortable than my bed. So, the second I felt my head sink into the pillows, my breath drawing in the familiar scent of her home, I was asleep before I exhaled.
Hours later, I felt something tugging lightly on my hair.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore the feeling, but was soon hit with the scent of glitter.
Again, I tried to ignore it, but knew that it was useless when a burst of the scent combined with another light tug and the sound of a hairspray bottle. I groaned only moments before I heard footsteps hurrying into the room.
A giggle was preceded by the sound of my sister gasping with annoyance.
“Kassie!” Michelle exclaimed. “I told you to leave Aunt Jenna alone!”
“I’m helping, Mommy…” Kassie giggled as I opened my eyes and waved the cloud of glitter and hairspray away from my face. “I’m doing Aunt Jenna’s hair so we can get going sooner.
“Kassie?” I asked, still waking up.
“See?” she replied, sounding slightly relieved. “Aunt Jenna’s awake.”
I laughed, but Michelle didn’t seem to find humor in it. “What did I tell you?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Michelle, it’s okay…” I interjected. “I…” I looked at the clock which read 1:30 p.m. and realized that I had actually slept longer than I meant to. “I wanted to get up now, anyway.”
Michelle raised her eyebrows knowingly. “That’s fine, but I’m sure you didn’t want to look like Elsa after a long, one-night stand with Sven.” She told me, pointing to the mirror. I sat up and Kassie giggled, practically rolling down the side of the couch. Looking in the mirror, I laughed.
Parts of my hair were sticking straight up, while all of my hair was knotted, with silver streaks of heavily garnished glitter sticking clumps of it together.
Instinctively, I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to assess the damage and was met with a sticky, hardening mess of straw, surrounded by an atmosphere of glitter.
“You look pretty, Aunt Jenna!” Kassie assured, staring after me in the mirror before turning to look at my sister. “Mommy? What’s a one-night stand?” This made me laugh even harder as my sister’s face turned red and her eyes grew wide.
I thought about letting her sweat it out for a moment but she did save me from Kassie turning my entire head from flowing red to Marge Simpson teal, so I figured I owed her.
“Wait to corrupt your kid’s favorite movie,” I chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, Kassie. Can you please go find my brush out of my bag? I think I left it by the door.”
“Okay…” she answered, losing interest in her question quickly.
“I have to watch it three-hundred times a day; I get to corrupt it however I want,” Michelle grumbled, narrowing her eyes and making a face. “I’m sorry, but you look like a platinum Edward Scissor Hands.”
“I know.” I scrunched my nose up and giggled.
“I’m sorry. I had no idea…”
“Michelle,” I answered seriously, raising my hand to stop her apology and giving her a knowing look.
“If you say it, I will strangle you in your sleep,” she hissed.
I grinned wickedly.
“No!”
“Let it go…” I sang, as Kassie returned with my brush. Prompted, the four-year-old put the hairbrush up to her face and screamed the song into h
er makeshift microphone.
Michelle groaned.
I laughed and headed to the shower as quickly as I could, locking the door behind me. I loved my niece with all my heart, but her singing was atrocious.
Later, after four shampoo cycles and four rinses, I was ready and, still a bit sparkly, I agreed that I was in need of a shopping day. So, Michelle, Kassie, and I headed to the mall. We ran in and out of stores all afternoon and finally settled in for dinner at the food court.
“Aunt Jenna, can I have ice cream?” Kassie asked. “I’m all done with my dinner.”
“Sure, you can.” I grinned as Michelle’s plastic fork stabbed hard into the rest of her vegetable lo-mien.
When I looked in her direction, she was glaring at me.
“What?”
“You have got to stop doing that!” she hissed in a low tone, as though she thought Kassie couldn’t hear her.
“What?” I repeated, pretending to play dumb.
“Getting her anything she wants! You spoil her.”
“Isn’t that what aunts are supposed to do?” I teased.
“You act like it’s an Olympic sport, like you get a prize for getting her the most sh…stuff,” she retorted, correcting herself.
“I do,” I beamed. “I get to be the Best Aunt. And besides, she’s a kid, so most of the stuff she wants isn’t that bad…and it’s cute! I mean, hello…” I pulled out one of my favorite outfits as Exhibit A for my argument. “I wish some of this stuff came in my size.”
“She loves you because she loves you, not because you get her stuff.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t hurt…” I giggled.
“Yeah!” Kassie laughed, not exactly knowing what she was agreeing to.
Knowing she wasn’t going to win this argument, or even have a fighting chance of getting her position to make any kind of lasting impression, Michelle rolled her eyes. “Seriously?” She groaned before she huffed; “Fine, but when you have kids, I am going to spoil the hell out of them and there isn’t a thing you will be able to do about it. After all, remember what they say about payback, little sister.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, well at the rate I’m going, you’re going to have plenty of time to plan that payback.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Michelle asked, automatically sounding defensive. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in a protective manner, ready to defend whatever negativity I was planning to give her.
“Well, it’s not exactly like I have many options,” I answered, feeling almost as though we were kids again.
Michelle had always been the pretty one, with guys constantly vying for her attention. She could never understand why I didn’t have the same problem. I could tell her why and I tried, many times, but she never wanted to hear any of it.
“Well, that’s because you have to get out and meet people. You keep hours like a bat. You work long shifts and a fun occasion for you is buying your sister’s kid anything she wants. Ice cream is your tequila shot.”
“It’s still satisfying, but I can still get up to go to work in the morning,” I teased.
“Okay, well downing a tub of ice cream is not exactly sexy.”
“Whoever thinks that obviously isn’t the man for me,” I joked. “And besides, I don’t eat a tub of ice cream. I have a little…now and then…and the result stays between me and my scale, thank you very much!”
“That’s because your scale is the only thing that has seen you naked since you started medical school!” she hissed, this time too low for Kassie to hear.
I scoffed, trying to be offended as we both ignored Kassie’s attempts to get her mother to repeat what she had said. “That’s not true!”
“What’s not true?” Kassie demanded, now growing annoyed at being left out of the conversation.
“It’s only been about six months, I’ll have you know.”
“Was it like Elsa and Sven?”
“Yes.” I blushed, making the correlation from our earlier conversation.
“Did you get a number?”
“No.”
“Did he call back?”
“No.”
“Jenna…” She answered in a motherly tone that I didn’t want to deal with at the moment.
“Hey, Kassie?” I called.
“Yeah?” She perked up, feeling as though she was finally part of the conversation again.
“No… Jenna. No!” Michelle insisted, genuinely aggravated.
I simply smiled. “I think your mother should—”
“Don’t you dare—”
“Let it go,” I sang.
“Let it goooooo….” Kassie squawked in her earnest attempt to sound like the movie.
As she continued, I got up and took my tray to the trash, leaving my sister too quiet down my niece and pack everything up. Sure, it wasn’t nice, but she had to go and pry. Really, what I did and who I did it with was none of her business.
Plus, while my schedule definitely hindered my dating schedule, the real issue with my love life had nothing to do with my hectic career.
Unfortunately, no matter what I did, or how hard I worked on my figure, my body, and my confidence, I still couldn’t shake the feeling that had always plagued me. When I was in high school, I was chubby. I had red hair. I had annoying freckles and wore thick-rimmed glasses.
Now, my hair was still red, but flowing and healthy, I had trimmed down to a figure I was pleased with, I made peace with my freckles, and I invested in contacts. Yet, no matter what I did, I couldn’t shake the stigma, the image of that tormented child that my sister never seemed to be able to see.
So, after I threw my trash away, I headed to the bathroom. I heard my phone buzz as I reached the stall.
WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! The text from Michelle read.
I snickered and texted back, You know what they say about payback…before I walked into the stall, silencing my phone.
Chapter 11
Tim
Squeak! Shuffle…shuffle…squeak!
“Goddammit!” I muttered, angrily thrusting my chair from side to side, trying to find a comfortable position to sit in. I groaned and leaned back in the shitty chair, which had absolutely no give, trying to ignore the scream of my back.
I had been here for forty-five minutes, bumming their Wi-Fi connection in exchange for a rather bland, wholesale coffee. Growing up, I knew there must be something better than this provincial excuse for a café, but now that I knew there was better, the experience was even more torturous.
Still, at least this sorry excuse for a coffee shop had some fucking internet. That was more than I could say for my father’s stone-age lack of technology and instant coffee.
The longer I stayed in this small town black hole, the harder it was for me to understand how I could have possibly come out of this backwards sinkhole and become successful. This town and the people in it literally repelled technology. The only saving grace was that this hole in the wall did, in fact, have Wi-Fi and not dialup like the last time I had been here.
When I was a kid, there had been nothing. It was lucky if there was a current magazine in this coffee shop, but now, despite the chairs – and the sorry excuse for coffee – it had reared full-steam ahead into the future…and still managed to stay about a decade behind in the times.
I sighed and shook my head, trying to ignore the loud chatting of the local gossip queens who had to sit right behind me while I tried to focus on my work.
This was a town where life continued to stand still, and I felt ensnared in its ignorance, choking and sputtering for freedom while it drowned me with incompetence. Still, there was work that needed to be done and so, I pressed on. I started to get into a rhythm and the world around me faded from my view.
Finally, I was able to escape the confines of this town’s technological depravity and actually made some headway on the software problem that was plaguing our current client.
However, the blissful return to the world I loved and succee
ded in didn’t last long. Eventually, I felt a finger poke into the top of my shoulder. I ignored it, but when I felt it again, I heard a loud Southern voice yell to me.
“Excuse me, Sir!”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath trying like hell not to show my frustration. By the time I turned around, I was beaming. “Hello,” I exclaimed, eyeing the elderly couple standing behind me. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I knew that I should know exactly who they were. They had aged since I saw them last, that was for sure. Yet, something told me even if they looked exactly the same, I would be having the same problem putting a name to their face.
“Hi. You’re Tim Meck, right? Your father is Phil Meck?” the woman asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered, allowing my deplorable Southern drawl to escape as I spoke to her. “How can I help you?”
“We wanted to thank you,” the elder gentleman spoke up. “You might not remember us, but a few years ago, there was a fire that destroyed our house and a good portion of our farm. It was right after your momma died, God rest her soul. And, you sent us money and helped to arrange for the town to rebuild our house. Now, it’s even better than it was. We wanted to thank you, but you never came back and so, when we saw you sittin’ here, we knew we had to say somethin’.”
I grinned, remembering exactly who this woman and her husband were. Mrs. Hadline was a schoolteacher. She had introduced me to computers. When I was in elementary and middle school, she had taught me everything she knew about them. Her husband was now back in the times slightly due to his age, but in his prime, he could’ve been what I was now, had he left this one-horse town for real work.
Like he said, a few weeks after I left, following my mother’s passing, I received word that their house had burned down and I knew I had to do something. I sure as hell wasn’t going to return to the town, but I did need to help, so I sent a check with instructions about rebuilding the house.
It wasn’t the first, nor the last, time I had given money to the town in hopes of helping it rise above the pig sludge that seemed to drive the economy, but it was personal. I wasn’t simply giving to help the town; I was giving to help a couple who had given all they could to help me follow my passion and become the man I had the potential to become.