All of You

by Lindsay Detwiler

  I remember being twelve and flipping through the worn pages, mouth open in amazement at all the words I couldn’t pronounce and at all the amazing things. From that moment on, I knew. My fate was sealed.

  I wanted to be just like him.

  I set the encyclopedia back on the nightstand by the picture of Dad. I’m about thirteen in the picture, and we’re standing in front of the biggest roller coaster at Disney. My dad makes bunny ears behind me, his mustache not hiding his smile. It’s one of my favorite pictures because it’s one of the few vacations we took together, one of the few times he could pull himself away from the hospital long enough to just let loose and have fun.

  “Life is work, if you’re doing it right, Alex.” That was what Dad always said to me, since the time I could talk.

  Not that it’s bad advice. Mom and Dad have a good life, and they gave me and Greg a good life because of their work. I see the pride in my parents’ eyes when they talk about their achievements, about how many people they’ve helped. I see the pride when Dad cruises down the street in his BMW and when Mom pulls into the driveway of our huge, gorgeous house.

  Money can’t buy happiness, but hard work can buy you things you can be proud of. This is also something I’ve learned along the way.

  I sigh, staring up at my ceiling. It’s eleven o’clock, and I have to be back for the morning shift. I should be doing something productive—sleeping, studying, reading medical case studies. Something.

  But here I am, staring at the ceiling, listening to the single clock tick from the kitchen. The silence of the apartment, usually a welcome accompaniment to my studies, haunts me.

  It’s lonely. It’s dull. How the hell have I survived this long?

  Suddenly, this one-bedroom apartment filled with medical books and a few necessities seems like a barren wasteland. I feel the monotony of my days kicking in. Work, eat, sleep a few hours, and study. That’s it.

  I don’t think it would matter if it was a five-story mansion or if a Rolls Royce was parked in the driveway. The loneliness would still seep right in, maybe even more.

  I don’t know why it’s getting to me now. This isn’t something new. I’ve carved this life path out for years. I’ve gone willingly into this arena.

  It’s always been good enough. It’s always been more than enough. I’ve never needed anything more than this, my eyes set on that surgeon title, my shoes following in Dad’s footsteps like I promised him all those years ago.

  But something’s shifted, and that something started with a girl falling off a bridge and yanking me down with her into the unknown.

  In our few encounters, though, I’ve come to realize the unknown isn’t such a bad thing, and life isn’t exciting because of where you live. It’s who you’re spending your life with. Marley can make even Rosewood seem full of adventure. From cheesesteaks to diners to hikes in the woods, I’ve lived more in the few moments I spent with her than probably the past ten years. I’ve experienced. I’ve breathed in a life I’ve been shoving away.

  And now, dammit, the life I thought was going so well seems—dull. Pointless. Endless.

  It’s crazy because in the past few years, I tried my best to shove all women away. I told myself matters of the heart weren’t for me, not with my goal requiring so much energy. I promised myself I’d achieve my goals first and then worry about love.

  Yet, here I am, alone at eleven o’clock at night thinking about a girl in a red hat whom I just met a few weeks ago. A girl who is named after Bob Marley and who loves wearing her Converse sneakers with everything. A girl with a smoky voice and a penchant for laughter, who loves writing poetry and loves rain. A girl who sucked me right in without me even noticing.

  And not only that—she’s made me feel like everything I thought I had before her was so empty.

  I pull out my phone and smile to see a text from her.

  Marley: Swing by for coffee after work tomorrow? I want to show you something else.

  Me: Deal. Looking forward to it.

  I toss my phone to the nightstand and reach for something I haven’t since I started my residency—the remote. Instead of spending the next few hours with my nose buried in my books, I do something that feels a little wrong.

  I flip on some reality television, not even a medical show mind you, and waste a few hours in someone else’s life, wishing all the while tomorrow would come fast.

  ***

  “So, where are we off to next, tour guide?” I ask, startling Marley who is pouring a coffee. I got through my ten-hour shift and, although I’m exhausted, I’m energized by the thought of spending more time with her.

  Today, she’s wearing a red sundress, her Converse sneakers, and her signature hat. I’m starting to think she sleeps in it.

  “Well, I thought we’d check out the park at the edge of town. I used to love it as a little girl. It’s peaceful, totally Zen.”

  “Zen sounds good right about now,” I respond as she hands me a coffee.

  “Rough day?”

  “Just the usual. Busy, busy. A few broken bones, a car accident, and some fevers. Nothing too traumatic. Just… I have a lot to learn.”

  “Don’t we all,” Marley says, smiling as she undoes her apron.

  “Oh, hey Alex. Back again so soon?” Becca asks, leaning over the register and winking at me.

  “Becca, how long until your classes start?”

  “A week.”

  “Oh, man. We’ll miss you so much,” Marley jokes, smiling to soothe the sarcasm in her voice.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be back for winter break. You two will probably be freaking married by then.”

  Marley shakes her head, rolling her eyes at the perky blonde. I just nod at her to say goodbye as Marley comes out from behind the counter and heads out the door.

  “Freedom,” she yells into the sky, the sun beaming down on her. “Isn’t it the best feeling? Getting off work, finally free to do whatever?”

  I shrug. “I guess.”

  Marley gives me an eye. “You guess? Oh no, don’t tell me you’re one of those workaholics.”

  “I think you’d be pressed to find a doctor who isn’t. It kind of goes with the job.”

  “Well, when I’m through with you, you won’t be a workaholic. Nope.”

  I shake my head as she pulls my hand, yanking me down the sidewalk, animatedly chattering about some tourists who swung by Georgia’s and a food inspector who stopped by and is annoying as hell. I sip my coffee, reveling in her storytelling.

  “So, I’m yammering on and on. You must be exhausted. I’ll stop talking,” she says.

  “No, don’t. I like hearing your stories. It’s entertaining.”

  She laughs. “You must be hard up if you think I’m entertaining. Oh, we’re here,” she crows, leading me through a gate toward a tiny park.

  There’s a bench, a swing set, and that’s about it. It’s small and serene, but in a good way.

  She leads me to the bench, and I plop down. It feels good to get off my feet.

  We sit for a moment, staring at the sunset, reveling in the silence.

  And then Marley jumps up. “Look at that! It’s a baby bunny. How adorable,” she exclaims, quietly sneaking toward it.

  I put together what she’s doing. “Marley, you really shouldn’t touch it. They can have ticks and all kinds of diseases,” I warn, hating myself for sounding like I’m trying to be someone’s mom.

  Marley ignores me anyway, catching the bunny, picking it up with a huge, girlish grin. “Hey, buddy. You’re so soft. Alex, come pet him,” she says, holding the bunny toward me.

  “I’m good.”

  “Oh my God. Don’t be such a pansy. Come pet the damn rabbit I wrangled.”

  I shake my head. “Are you always this bossy? And insulting?”

  “Are you always this boring? Come on. It’s a rabbit, not a wolverine.”

  I put my coffee down on the bench and head over, eying the bug-eyed creature. It is damn cute. I pat it o
n the head, reminding myself to wash my hands later.

  We stand for a long moment, Marley, me, and a wild rabbit. The sunset behind her loose waves, her eyes shimmering at the delight of her catch, I get a glimpse of her I haven’t yet. I see who she must’ve been as a girl, this wild and free child full of life.

  That zest for life is still there. It’s just definitely a little less shimmery sometimes.

  She eventually lets our newfound friend go. “Run free, buddy,” she encourages. The rabbit sits still.

  She sighs. “Or stay put. Your choice.”

  I shake my head, reaching over to move a strand of hair from her face. “You’re something else, Marley Jade. I had no idea when I came to this town I would find such a wild woman.”

  “Yeah, Rosewood can’t quite contain me. It doesn’t really know what to do with me.”

  “I don’t think anyone does,” I say, staring at her. Her pink lips practically scream at me to take them with mine. Her cheekbones, her eyes, the perfect curves of her body, they all beg me to touch them, to claim them, to ravage them.

  I think she senses the longing I have because she parts her lips a little bit. I think about leaning in, about succumbing to this instinctual feeling. I want to explore Marley, to figure out what this is between us. I want to lean her back on the bench and find our own sense of freedom.

  But I don’t. As usual, the rational Alex takes over, the realistic, straitlaced surgeon Alex who doesn’t do crazy.

  What good would kissing her do? She’s this wild and free woman, and I’m this boring, square guy. We’re two different pieces to two different puzzles. We’re from two different worlds going in two different directions.

  All that will happen is heartbreak, chaos, and a loss of focus on both our parts.

  So I awkwardly scratch an itch on my neck before gesturing back toward the bench.

  “It’s beautiful here,” I say, motioning toward the park when we sit back down.

  “Yeah. I could sit here all day,” she agrees. “I wonder if I could just quit my job and live here in the park.”

  “Sounds like a pretty decent idea to me. I mean, I love my job, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes I wish I didn’t have somewhere I had to be all the time. Maybe the bunny doesn’t have such a bad gig, huh?” We glance over at the bug-eyed rabbit, who is still sitting where Marley left him.

  “Other than crazy women picking him up, I guess not.”

  “Man, seriously though. I have to be back at work at five.” I take a sip of my coffee, trying to relish in this moment.

  “Don’t go,” Marley says, shrugging. “You look tired. Take a break. Call off. Dr. Conlan is a forgiving man.”

  “I can’t just call off. I’m in residency. I have to make a good impression.”

  “By working yourself to death? By being a bore? Come on, Alex. This is the time to live it up a bit. Explore. Have fun.” She nudges me with her elbow.

  I shake my head. “Have you always been like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “Free?”

  She raises an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t call it free. I’ve had my demons, and I’ve had my moments. But, I guess in a way, the answer is yes. I made sure I lived a little. I played hooky now and then. Still do, which isn’t easy in a town this small. You can’t quite play sick when half the town sees you if you leave your house.”

  “Yeah, I bet it isn’t easy.”

  She eyes me with a smile. “I mean, I might be stereotyping here, but I’m going to venture a guess the words ‘playing hooky’ aren’t in your vocabulary. Let me guess. You were the kid who sat in the front row in every class, who turned his work in early, and who had perfect attendance?”

  “What are you saying, I’m a boring nerd?” I scowl at her, but she just grins back.

  “Am I wrong?”

  “Completely,” I say, nudging her with my elbow this time.

  “Really?”

  “Yep. I sat in the second row in every class. And I missed four days of school when I had my wisdom teeth out.”

  She laughs. “Oh my God. We need to get you out a little. Get you to live a little. Hell, I’m just a barista in a shitty town, but at least I can say I’ve had some fun.”

  “Wow. Make a guy feel like shit.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to. I think you’re amazing and I think being a doctor is so admirable. I could obviously never do it. But come on. You also need to find balance. I’ve seen Dr. Conlan spend his entire life working. Like his entire life. And he’s not even the worst of them. I just think you need to find a way to balance it all, you know?”

  I nod. “Actually, I do. I love being a doctor, I do. But my dad was a surgeon. I’ve seen him work away his life too. And so many times as a kid, I asked myself why. Why wasn’t he there more? Why couldn’t he set the work aside? I wanted to be him, but a part of me hoped I wouldn’t completely be like him. Here I am, though, following in his footsteps, and I know I’m headed for that life.”

  “What made you want to be a surgeon?”

  “Well, like I said, that’s what my dad did. I just always loved medicine, and I thought it was cool how much my dad did for people. Guess I just have been focused on living up to his expectations.”

  “I see. So is this what you really want then, putting your dad’s thoughts aside?”

  I raise an eyebrow, feeling my defenses rise. “Of course. I wouldn’t do all this work if it wasn’t.”

  “Just checking,” she says before leaning against my shoulder. “Just checking.”

  We sit for a long time until the sun goes down, Marley leaning against my arm as if we’ve sat here dozens of times. Her breathing lulling me into a state of peace, I think about how much I would like to sit here for days, her leaning on my arm, the world seeming all right.

  Most of all, I think about her question, wondering if the answer I gave so quickly is really the answer I’m feeling.

  Chapter Nine

  Alex

  My phone’s incessant buzzing whips me out of dreamland, and I groggily reach for it.

  The number on the screen is familiar, but one I haven’t seen flash on my phone for a while.

  “Hey, Dad,” I practically groan, sleepiness still evident on my voice.

  “Alex, how are you?” His voice is calm and stoic, the voice of reason and logic.

  It’s been a while since I’ve heard from him, but then again, we’re both working insane schedules. Dad might not be a surgeon anymore, but he keeps himself active in the medical community. There isn’t a week that goes by that he isn’t mentoring, teaching, or attending a conference. I think his injury has only motivated him to work even more.

  “I’m okay, Dad. Tired.”

  “How are things going? Are you doing a good job?”

  “I’m trying.”

  He scoffs. “Trying? What the hell does that mean?”

  I shake my head. “I’m trying to do a good job. It’s hard. I’m exhausted.”

  “Well, yes, of course you are. People don’t die or get hurt on the clock. Life in the ER is all about bad timing.”

  I stare at the ceiling, counting the tiles as I listen to Dad rationalize everything. That’s Dad for you, though. Logical to a fault. Emotion doesn’t have a place in his world. Maybe that’s why he’s been such an amazing surgeon.

  It’s not that my dad’s an asshole or apathetic. He’s got a heart—at least I think. He’s just always been a man of stoicism, a man of serious realism. He’s the man who doesn’t believe in fluffy words.

  “So how are you?”

  “Well, I’m okay. But I’m worried. Your mom said you were out the other day.”

  I roll my eyes. Only my parents could try to keep a leash on me at this age from across the country. “Yeah, just seeing the town,” I answer, a biting tone in my voice. I drag myself out of bed, plodding out of my bedroom and to the kitchen. I lean on the counter, trying to shake off the exhaustion.

  “Be careful, Alex. This
is the time to stay focused. Keep the hospital and your goals in sight. Don’t get distracted.”

  “It was dinner, Dad. Relax,” I say, feeling an edge creeping in. Usually Dad’s advice—or commands—don’t really get to me. I know he means well. Who am I to argue with a man who’s been super successful?

  “I know. But I’m just saying.”

  “What are you saying, Dad?” I try not to exhale in annoyance like the teenager I once was. I try to remind myself to be an adult, that he’s just looking out for me. I stretch as I wait for the biting advice to dart out of his mouth.

  “I’m just saying this is the time to set yourself up for success. I talked to Dr. Zeigle. Do a good job these next few years and you’ll have a position waiting for you. He’ll take you under his wing, with me too of course, and take you through the surgical training you’ll need. It’s all set. You just need to do well now.”

  “Sounds good.” Even I can detect the detachment in my own voice. News that should excite me just sounds… dry. Dull. Maybe it’s the sleep I’m still trying to shake off, or maybe it’s Dad’s forceful nature.

  “Do you realize the opportunity you’ve had, son? Not everyone is handed this chance.”

  “And Dad, maybe not everyone wants it.” I move myself to the tan sofa in the living room area, plopping myself down, bracing myself for the wrath that’s sure to come.

  “Are you kidding me? After all your work and effort? After all the money we’ve invested in you, and the encouragement, you’re going to toss it away now? For what, Alex? For some girl you barely know?”

  “Who said anything about a girl?”

  “You don’t have to. There’s only one thing that’ll pull a man right off the path to success.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” I shake my head, fixing my gaze on the small window in the corner of the room, glancing out at the raindrops pattering against it in a wild pattern, thinking about Marley and our first hike together.

  “I hope so. Because I hope you’re not going to let yourself get distracted in some small-ass town. You’ve worked too hard. Don’t let us down now.”