Invitation

by Christina Hoffman

  He rubbed his hands together. “Is there any left?”

  It made me laugh. "I can tell you’ve lived with guys. I ate all day yesterday and there is still a ton of food in there.”

  “Good.” He moved toward the kitchen. “I’ve just gone online to learn how to make an omelet. It's going to knock your socks off.”

  “Don't count on it, Romeo.” The previous morning's activities had been the relationship's finale. Best not to let him think it was any sort of beginning. “I'll get dressed.”

  “Wear stretchy stuff.” What the hell? I peeked back around the corner, confusion written on my face.

  “We're going rock climbing!” He put his arms in the air as though cheering. “Well, wall climbing, actually. But we'll pretend we're on some treacherous mountain.” Again I laughed, but it was maybe more of a this-guy-has-lost-his-mind nervous sort of laugh.

  “Okay, I'll play. Why?”

  He moved through the kitchen, whipping eggs, hunting for pans. “Because my original plan was to come over here to tell you all about how my parents' horrific relationship, and my seriously disturbed childhood made me want to run away as soon as I realized I was falling in love with you…” He refused to make eye contact with me, and was busy melting butter into a skillet.

  “What…” I started, but he held a hand up.

  “But then I realized two things. One, I just don't want to talk about all that crap – even though I'm realizing that my tough guy routine might not be my best play anymore.”

  I couldn't help it. I laughed at the sight of this tough guy making an omelet for me. He always got me with the laughter.

  He pretended to shoot me a disapproving look.

  “And two…?” I encouraged.

  “And two, the problem isn't my supposedly unresolved issues. The problem is that I acted like an asshole, right?”

  Usually I would get all flustered and smother the other person with denials and encouragement, but this time I just nodded. “Yes. You did.”

  “So, the problem is that I hurt you when you needed someone the most.” He slid the omelet onto a plate and put it on the table for me. He got me a knife and fork and a glass of juice.

  I didn't answer the last question, because a painful lump had formed in my throat and my eyes were prickling with tears. He came to sit beside me.

  “We can talk all day, but it won't make you trust me. It won't make your heart want me the way your body does.” He couldn't help himself and smiled a little. He rubbed his hand against his face, trying to get rid of the possibly inappropriate grin.

  “So, enough with the talking. I'm going to get you to trust me. In the next twenty four hours.”

  “By rock climbing?”

  “It's a start. You'll see. It's sort of completely terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Remember you felt that way about sex at first, and then our bodies worked it out?”

  “Yes. I remember that, vaguely.” I rubbed at my throat to get rid of the lump, and tried to drink a little juice. I just picked at the omelet.

  “So, now, I've got to get your heart to feel the same way about me: that being terrified is worth it.” His shoulders slumped, discouraged. “I'm not saying this right.”

  “I think I understand. I'm not sure it can happen, though.”

  “I know.”

  “And what's with the twenty-four hours?”

  He looked longingly at the omelet, so I slid it over to him. “Well, this is not ideal, obviously, but my advisor heard about an opening at a fellowship in New York. It would mean skipping ahead a little and basically working double shifts for who knows how long. But it's one of those once-in-a-lifetime things. The chance won't come along again.”

  “So, why's it a tough decision. You're not afraid of hard work. Once in a lifetime is once in a lifetime. Case closed.”

  He finished the omelet. He stood to clear the table. Then he came back to the table and stood behind me. He wrapped his arms around me, so that his mouth was against my neck. This was not a man who was prepared to fight fair.

  “Case NOT closed, councilor. Because I currently have two once-in-a-lifetime chances in front me.”

  I wanted to turn to look at him, but didn't want my lips to end up right beside his. Also, there were some tears involved (for me). I wiped them away almost angrily.

  “That's ridiculous,' I snapped. “Why would you give up a sure-thing amazing opportunity, for a maybe-we'll-go-on-some-more-dates sort of thing? Who would do that?”

  “No one.” He kissed the side of my head and then moved to the other side of my small table. He put his arms on the table, palms up, signaling he wanted to hold my hand. God help me, I couldn't resist. An electrical force came off this man and I wanted to have its warmth and power for myself. “I'm not giving up the fellowship for the possibility of another date. You are it for me.”

  “I don't understand.”

  “If we stay together, if I stay here, we'll make it. I know it.”

  “You can't know that.”

  “Yes, I can. I knew it before, that's why I ran. I'm twenty-seven, and I thought that was way too young to have found 'The One'.”

  “It is.”

  “No, it's not. What I realized was how hard it was waiting for twenty-seven years to find you, and how I don't want to make it through any more unless you're with me.” He looked up at me then. He squeezed my hands a little too tightly. He looked sexy, of course, but afraid, stressed out. “I put myself in the future and saw that if I didn't put this out there, if I didn't risk it all to have you love me, I'd never forgive myself. I'd never get over you.”

  It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard. I wanted to leap over all my walls and fling myself at him. But my walls were strong and high.

  “I can't take that kind of pressure. I would have to be worth giving up your career for. And I have 24 hours to decide? That's insane.”

  “It's not my career. I'm still going to have a good career. My father has the perfect career and is the saddest person I know. At least I figured that part out before becoming a bitter middle-aged alcoholic with the perfect career and the empty life.”

  I wanted to get all swept up in the moment. It seemed like the right thing to do, but we are who we are. “It feels like you're asking me to make that choice for you. I can't do it.”

  “No, I've made my choice. You're just in charge of yours.” He stood. “Now, get dressed. I've got 22 hours left, and we're late for that climbing wall.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Climbing up a vertical wall, voluntarily, is an interesting experience.

  We made good time with the traffic and weren't late after all. When we arrived, everyone shouted “Liam!”, like in that old show 'Cheers' where everyone shouts “Norm!” whenever he walks it. It was clear he had been here once or twice before.

  Liam walked over to the equipment desk. He had a duffel bag full of his own stuff, but we needed to rent some for me.

  You have to wear a harness while wall climbing. It is not an elegant thing, but it is useful. I felt like a frumpy old fool in some sort of ancient chastity belt, and I wished I could joke with Liam about it. But I thought it would seem like flirting, which wasn't fair. It would be too misleading. I was back to never knowing what we were and were not allowed to do in our relationship.

  Liam was right. It was going to be all or nothing with us. Our feelings had never really been casual at all. I had used that as an excuse, to allow myself to test the waters and to reenter the whole “physical” world slowly and with control. Liam had used the excuse to keep himself from any suffocating commitments, and a life like his parents'. When he had kissed me on that final day and said, “I think we're in trouble,” he had been absolutely right. Now we had to decide whether to run from that trouble, or to embrace all the risks.

  I am not good at embracing risks.

  Liam, damn him, somehow managed to retain his dignity and sex appeal in the ridiculous climbing gear. He shifted things arou
nd a little so that the harness didn't exaggerate his package too much, but there wasn't much he could do. I suspect that being displayed that way might be one of the reasons men like this climbing business. It is the only possible explanation for the hideousness of cycling shorts, but I'll leave that rant for another day.

  Thankfully, Liam offered to go first. Since I had no idea what was happening, this seemed like a reasonable plan. I figured I would walk over to the water cooler and hang out for an hour or so, but no, I was to be immediately involved. I had to hold on to his rope!

  “Think of it as a trust exercise,” he smiled.

  “I can't hold you up. I'm not that strong.”

  “Yes you are. But it doesn't matter anyway. I hold myself up. This is just for if I fall.”

  “Super . . .”

  “If I fall,” he continued. “The lever will take most of my weight. You just keep your hands on the rope, and your eyes on me. You'll be fine.” He gave me a quick kiss on the side of my face. I appreciated that he was being warm towards me, but not too presumptuous.

  “And try not to stare at my ass.” He joked. “I know how you ladies can be.” He walked toward the wall, reached over his head to grab a fake-rock-thing and started climbing.

  I tried not to admire the physicality of him, but I didn't stand much of a chance. First because that was my job, and his life was in my hands. It was required of me to watch his every move. I actually couldn't turn away.

  Secondly, because, I swear, he was like a living god. I had seen him naked, so it's not like there was a part of him that was a surprise. But I had never really seen him in motion. He had both strength and grace. His legs were lean and muscular. His back muscles rippled under his shirt. I found myself staring at his long fingers, grabbing onto the rocks and pulling him up with tremendous power. I marveled at how gentle those fingers had been on my body.

  I was equal parts completely turned on, and completely frustrated with myself. Is that all I was? Just a friggin' lust machine? It seemed like a mature reasonable person ought to be able to think with more than her tingling parts, and I was determined to be that person. The stronger my lust grew, the more I hardened my heart to him.

  Eventually, Liam made it to the top. He didn't do any silly victory-whatever someone does when they're at the top of a rock and hanging by a thread. He just slapped the top and started making his way back down. I saw other climbers repelling down quickly, but Liam was having fun climbing. He took another way down, and really pushed his body. Not that I noticed.

  When he was back on the ground, he came toward me, sweaty and happy. He wanted to kiss me, and I wished it could all be so simple and sweet. But it wasn't. I turned my head away and moved to the wall.

  “Not too scared?”

  “Yes, I am too scared. But I'll do it.”

  “That's my girl.”

  “I'm not. I'm not your girl. Please stop saying things like that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it makes me feel sad, and stressed out. I promised I'd spend this day with you, and I'm going to. But when you say things like that, I feel like I'm leading you on or something.”

  “I don't think that.”

  “But this isn't going to change anything. I love that you thought up all this stuff, and that you understand why I don't trust you...”

  “But . . .”

  “But, I don't. I don't trust you. Not really. I know you won't let me fall to my death here. But there are other ways to fall.”

  Liam stopped working the rope through my harness and looked at me. Really looked at me. His face had been playful, then earnest, but as I said this, his face turned angry.

  He dropped the rope to the ground and strode off to the change benches.

  “Liam! Let's do this. I promised I would, and I will.”

  He spun towards me, and the look on his face made me take a step back. “Don't do me any favors, Madison. Give me a break! The only reason you're here is because you owe me?”

  His anger was unnerving, but I couldn't back down. “Yes. You reminded me that you had listened to me and been supportive of me. So, I'm doing the same. I'm trying to listen. I'm trying to be supportive.”

  He turned away from me, struggling to get out of his gear. I stood by, watching helplessly.

  “You know Madison, the first time I met you I knew you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. The first time I talked to you, I thought you were the bravest and smartest, too.” He balled up his clothes, shoving them into his duffel bag. “But you're not brave. You're a coward who doesn't want to try something amazing because she might get hurt. And you're not smart, or you'd realize what a lame-ass excuse that is. I made one mistake. One goddamn mistake. We are amazing together. Amazing!” He turned away from me, trying to catch his breath. I was glad, because I thought I might cry, and I didn’t want him to see it.

  He spoke very quietly. “I deserved another chance.” He walked to the door. “So screw you, Madison. You're free. I'm done.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  I got changed, and then sat on the bench wondering what to do. All I had brought with me was my driver's license for ID and my Visa, which was useless, since it was almost certainly maxed.

  I was feeling overwhelmed and emotional. Was I angry, hurt, sad? Who even knew anymore? It was all a mess. I needed to focus on the problem in front of me, though. It was like a riddle to be solved.

  Who to call for help? It was hard to accept that there really wasn't anyone I could call. I had lots of acquaintances at school and the hospital, but could I call one of them on a Sunday morning? And ask them to drive way the hell out here to warehouse-zone Seattle? There was that guy who seemed really into me when I went out to dinner with the other interns, but I wasn't interested in him. And I wasn't the kind of person who could take advantage of someone else that way.

  Chloe? Ha. Parents? Ha. I was trying to think if I had any cash lying around at home. Maybe a cab could take me home, and then wait while I ran in. Doubtful. Plus, this was going to be a fifty-dollar cab ride at least.

  I was on the verge of panic, but I thought I'd give my subconscious a chance to mull it over. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall. I was trying to breath, live in the moment, all that stuff. It was working a little. I was, at the very least, feeling how completely exhausting my current life had become. One way or another, I was going to have to make some big changes.

  Once more, the air moved across my face and I knew Liam had come back in. I kept my eyes closed, but sensed him coming. He stopped in front of me.

  “I'm sorry,” we both started. I opened my eyes to find him looking down at me. He wasn't smiling, but he also wasn't angry anymore. He just seemed sad. Beaten.

  “I remembered you didn't bring your purse. I'm pissed, but not enough to leave you stranded out here.” He put out his hand and I took it. He lifted me to standing and we stood face to face.

  “I got so angry because you mean a lot to me. I don't know how to make this better.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “Okay.” He sighed, resigned. “You ready?” He kept hold of my hand and pulled me to the door. He waved sadly at his gang of climbing buddies as we left. I didn't make eye contact with any of them. They were probably glaring at me.

  We got into his car. Just as we were settling in, my phone started ringing.

  “Oh, it's the hospital,” I said.

  “Don't answer it!” Liam exclaimed. “That Emerg's number. They're probably short-staffed and calling you in.”

  “Then I need to answer!” He tried to pry the phone from my fingers, but I swiveled away.

  “Hello.”

  “Is this Madison Spencer?” a gruff male voice asked. Behind him I could hear the beepings and general chaos of the Emergency room. Liam had been right.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Tell them you don't start until tomorrow,” Liam interjected. I pushed him away. I couldn't get off to such a bad start. That would s
how a great attitude. But this was also the only weekend I'd had off in over two months.

  “I'm starting my rotation tomorrow,” I offered, hoping against odds that the person would say, “Oh, well, in that cause, enjoy the afternoon, dear!”

  Instead he said, “Do you know Alexander Mathis?” It took a second to recognize the name. Alex. Mario Andretti.

  “Sure, I know Alex.” I looked to Liam, who was looking as confused and concerned I was.

  “Well, he's been brought in, and he says you're his doctor.”

  “That's flattering, but I'm just an intern.”

  “Doesn't matter to me, and I don't have time for a debate about it. He's sick. He'd like to see you. What you do about it is your own concern.” He hung up. Guess I was going to have to get used to a different type of personality down there.

  I turned to Liam. “Nice fellow.”

  He smiled. “It was McAllister. I could hear him loud and clear.”

  “I bet. Anyway, Alex is back in Emergency. He wants to see me.” I fiddled with the phone. “Is that inappropriate or something? Some kind of patient-doctor boundary thing?”

  Liam turned away from me and started the car. “Jesus, Madison. You analyze the life out of everything. He's a little kid who's probably scared and you're the name he remembers. Are we going in or what?”

  I liked that he said 'we'. I did want to see Alex. But I was afraid of what I'd find.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  We made good time to the hospital. Nice weather and Sunday morning combined to keep traffic reasonable. We parked on the street a block away, and hurried into the Emergency department.

  This time it was a group of nurses who waved and yelled, “Hey, Liam.” This was one popular man.

  One of the nurses, an attractive blonde, came toward us and looked me over. There was nothing I could do but stand there. I was in yoga pants and a t-shirt. My hair had barely been combed that morning. I let her have her fill. She turned back to Liam, “You here with us now?”

  “No,” he answered. “McAllister called Dr. Spencer.” He gestured to me. “A patient is asking for her.”