by Ava Conway
By the time morning came around, I was exhausted, and worried about what Dr. Polanski would think when I told her the truth about what really happened. Chances were her opinion about me would change, and in some ways that was more difficult to deal with than losing the internship. I would have not only let Dr. Polanski down, but my mom and sister down as well.
The good, stable girl who had her act together was about to dump her mess onto the floor.
I was just about ready to leave for work when my phone rang. I checked the number, but it wasn’t one I recognized. I started to put the phone away but then changed my mind.
“Hello?”
“Mia, it’s Lacey.”
“Lacey!” I dropped my briefcase and leaned against the kitchen counter. “How are you?”
“I’m doing great.”
Great? “Mom said that you and Steve were getting a divorce.”
“Just signed the papers this morning. Isn’t it great?”
“Lacey . . .” I wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Mom said that you were pretty broken up about it. I wanted to call, but—”
“I was broken up, but that was before I realized something.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“That I should stop living my life for someone else.”
I thought about my own life and how I had lived up to the expectations of my mother. “That’s great, Lacey.”
“Yeah, for years I’ve been trying to pursue motherhood because it was what Steve wanted. I never stopped to think about what I wanted.”
“And what do you want?”
“I want to travel and be free.” Some birds squawked in the background. I couldn’t be certain, but they sounded like seagulls. “Alex made me see that.”
“Alex?”
“My new boyfriend.”
I pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down. “Don’t you think it’s a little soon for that?”
“When you know, it’s never too soon.” I heard some giggles and then this rushing sound, like waves.
“Where are you?”
“St. Lucia. I came here with some friends to find myself after Steve filed for divorce. I’ve been learning a lot of things.”
“Like you don’t want to become a mother.”
“Oh, maybe someday, but not right now. There’re too many other things I want to do.” She hesitated a moment before continuing. “I had met Steve so young, and he was so serious. My entire life had been working toward building a family.”
“A family you didn’t really want.”
“Yes.” Her relief was palpable. “The infertility was a blessing in disguise. I think children would have only made things messier between us.”
“But Steve loved you.”
Lacey chuckled. “He loved ordering me around. He was so damn controlling.”
“He was?”
“Didn’t you notice? I couldn’t go out with my friends, couldn’t have a drink in the bar. He watched what I ate, monitored my exercise, and even charted my cycles so we’d know when to have sex.” She made a very unladylike sound. “He was so regimented, so intent on doing what people expected of us, that he forgot how to have fun.”
I rubbed my forehead as her words sunk into my brain. I realized that Steve and I were more alike than I cared to admit. Both of us had worked so hard toward our goals that we hadn’t stopped to realize how our obsessions were pushing everyone else away.
“I know you liked Steve, but I’m finally having fun again, Mia. I can’t tell you how freeing it is to not have to worry about pleasing anyone but yourself.”
“I can imagine.” I rubbed my temples, trying to push away the pain that had begun to develop.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I lowered my arm. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. Mom’s worried about you. You haven’t called, which isn’t like you. She said you met a boy at Newton Heights . . .”
“It’s nothing, really.” Or it will become nothing once I tell Dr. Polanski the truth.
“Oh, well, give her a call, won’t you? She said that you’ve seemed off lately. She thinks you might be sick.”
“No, not sick. Just tired.” Like Lacey, I was tired of living up to others’ expectations. I wanted to start living life for myself.
Lacey told me about her hotel, and how Alex was teaching her how to scuba dive. I listened and tried to ignore the stab of jealousy in my chest. She truly seemed happier without Steve. Who was I to stand in her way?
We said our good-byes, and as I pocketed the phone and made my way to Newton Heights Psychiatric Hospital, her words kept rolling around in my head. It was so much more important to do what I felt was right than to try to save an internship I wasn’t even certain I wanted anymore.
As I made my way up to the long-term-care ward, I straightened my hair and looked at myself in the mirrored wall of the elevator. Outwardly, not much had changed since my first day. I still wore the same tight bun and stuffy suit dress. I still had the perfectly applied makeup and well-manicured nails. Something was different, however. The certainty was gone from my eyes. The fine lines around my mouth had deepened, and my lips had grown more firm. I was changing, but did I like the person I was becoming?
The elevator doors opened. Instead of going to my office, I took a detour and headed for Dr. Polanski’s. Every part of me wanted to go hide behind my desk until all of this blew over, but I knew that hiding was no longer an option. After everything that had happened, I couldn’t go back to the way things were. Something had to change, and it was up to me to make that happen.
My stomach did flip-flops as I knocked on Dr. Polanski’s door. I knew that I was doing the right thing, but it didn’t make it any easier.
“Come in.”
I took a deep breath and then stepped inside. “Do you have a moment?”
“Of course.” Dr. Polanski put down her glasses and motioned to the seat opposite her desk. “Please sit.”
I did as I was told. Throughout the whole morning, I had practiced what I was going to say, but now that I was here, facing Dr. Polanski, words escaped me.
“It was a terrible thing that Flynn did to you,” she said.
“Flynn didn’t do anything wrong. Johnson did.”
She lifted her brows. “Johnson? The orderly?”
I nodded. “He has been making advances for weeks and he cornered me in my office.”
“Any romantic affairs should be handled—”
“His advances weren’t wanted.”
She arched her brows higher. “And you told him this?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And it didn’t matter. He said . . .” I cleared my throat. “He said that if I could have sex with the patients, then I could have sex with him.”
She leaned back in her seat and studied my face. The uncomfortable silence stretched between us. As seconds passed, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and sweat beaded at my temples.
“You had sex with a patient.”
It wasn’t a question, but I felt the need to answer anyway. “Yes,” I whispered.
“Who?”
I averted my gaze, unable to stand her accusing stare. “With Flynn.”
“Who?” She leaned forward and put her elbows on the table. “I didn’t hear you.”
“McKenna,” I said as I lifted my gaze to meet hers. “I had sex with Flynn McKenna.”
She hesitated a long moment before responding. “Where?”
“In my office.” I cleared my throat and returned my gaze to my hands.
Dr. Polanski let out a long breath. “And Johnson saw you.”
“I think he heard us.” I cleared my throat. “The door was closed.”
“I see.”
“He was . . . he was using it as blackmail.”
“So let me get this straight.” Dr. Polanski sat up in her chair. “You were having consensual sex with a patient.”
“Flynn
.”
She waved her hand in the air in dismissal. “You had sex with a patient and Johnson used this information to blackmail you into having sex with him.”
“He tried, but I said no.”
“How very noble of you.” Dr. Polanski’s frown made me uncomfortable. Still, I pressed forward, eager to get everything out into the open.
“Flynn and I had been talking for weeks and had developed a relationship,” I said. “That relationship turned personal.”
“I see.”
“It was completely my fault that things got out of hand.”
“I would say so.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek as I met her stern and accusing stare. I forced myself to continue. “Flynn is innocent in this. The fault lies completely with me.”
“We’ll see about that.” She stood and began to pace.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that we will need to have a conference about this.” She started ticking things off on her fingers. “We’ll need to have the board of directors there, as well as Johnson and anyone else who have might have witnessed the sexual encounter.”
“Will—will Flynn be there?”
“Of course. We will have to judge the impact of your manipulation and decide on the best course of treatment.” She shook her head. “Why do these things always happen at budget time? This is going to set our whole program back.”
“I didn’t manipulate him,” I said. “Our feelings were mutual.”
She stopped pacing and raised her brows. “Are you sure about that?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and said nothing.
She made a noncommittal sound. “Didn’t think so.” She began to pace once more. “We’ll need to hear all sides of the story before we make a decision.”
“I see.”
Dr. Polanski stopped by the door. “I can’t begin to tell you how disappointed this makes me.”
I turned away from her judgmental stare and cast my gaze to the floor. “Of course.”
She let out a long breath. “Go home, Mia. Tomorrow, bright and early, meet me in one of the conference rooms downstairs in the foyer. We’ll have a meeting and decide the best course forward.”
“But it’s only nine in the morning.”
“You’re dismissed for the day.”
“Of course.” I cleared my throat and kept my head bowed. “Will that be all?”
“For now.”
I collected my things, stood and headed toward the door. Dr. Polanski stopped me with her hand.
“Can you put everything you told me in writing?”
“Sure. I could have it done this afternoon.”
She nodded. “Fine, then. Write a summary of what happened—give me all of the details—and then email it to me. Tomorrow morning we’ll go over it at the conference.”
“Okay.” I reached for the door.
“And, Mia?”
I stopped and turned to face her. “Yes?”
“I hope that McKenna is worth the trouble you’re about to get into.”
I thought of my time with Flynn and how good he made me feel about myself. He had only wanted to help me. That’s all he wanted to do for anyone, really.
“He’s worth it, Dr. Polanski. Thanks.” I offered her a weak smile and left her office.
It took me only an hour to write an account of what happened and email it to my mentor. Once finished, I collected my things and headed home. I knew that I wouldn’t be revisiting my old office again. My goal with this conference wasn’t to save my internship but to set the record straight and prevent Flynn from getting a punishment he didn’t deserve.
Once home, I picked at my lunch, and then, instead of watching my usual reality television, I sat and wrote my end-of-the-semester report. After everything that had happened, I owed it to Flynn, Nesto and the others to give my honest assessment. As I wrote, I remembered Flynn’s comment about a file containing only words. He was right. I found that I was never able to accurately depict how scared I was on the first day of my new job, or how heroic Flynn was when he saved me from Johnson. I couldn’t describe what it felt like to live up to other people’s standards, or how refreshing it was to find someone in life who loved me for being me. In the end, I did the best I could, and hoped it would be enough. My assessment was finally complete. What Dr. Polanski chose to do with it was her own business, but at least I would uphold my end of the bargain.
During the entire afternoon and evening, Flynn wasn’t far from my thoughts. I wanted to know how he was dealing with confinement, and if he knew that I was fighting hard to set him free. After everything that had happened, I wanted him to know that there were no hard feelings. I still cared about him. I just hoped that after my huge mistake of not coming forward with the truth, he could find it in his heart to forgive me.
If he couldn’t, then I would have to live with that. It wasn’t like our romance could survive something like this anyway. After tomorrow, I would no longer be allowed in Newton Heights and Flynn would be confined there. No, I wasn’t hoping to rekindle our relationship, but to set things right. Flynn was the most hopeful patient I had seen in Newton Heights. I wanted to make sure that he had the best chance he could at living a typical life. Even if that life would never include me.
By the time I went to bed, I was all out of merlot, and all out of tears, but my report was finished. I had given my assessment and packed my briefcase for tomorrow. The rest of it was out of my hands.
I WASN’T QUITE sure what a person wore to their own funeral. Oh, I knew that I wouldn’t be dying today—at least not physically—but a huge part of my life would be ending. On the one hand, I felt sad. I had spent a lot of time and energy on this path for my life, and all of it had been for nothing. I would never get to see the fruition of my hard work, and it was hard not to feel like that time of my life was wasted.
On the other hand, I felt as if I was on the precipice of a new beginning, something bigger and better than I could have ever imagined for myself. Of course, I had no idea what I was going to do with my life, but that was something to puzzle out another day. After this ordeal was over I would ruminate on these things, but not now. Today was a day of reckoning. I had to own up to my actions if I ever hoped to move on with my life.
I drove over to Newton Heights for the last time and walked through the quad with stiff, wooden legs. With each step, my heartbeat quickened. I grasped the handle of my briefcase with white knuckles and tried to steady my breath. This was it, I realized. In a few short hours, Dr. Polanski and the board would decide my fate.
I walked into the foyer of the mental institution building and was struck by how normal everything looked. It was as if the people had no idea how momentous a day this was for me, or how sick I felt over this meeting.
Somehow I made it through security and nodded to the man behind the information desk. I made my way past Ms. Perfect at the lost and found and to the small row of meeting rooms. I found the right room easily, thanks to the fishbowl walls. Dr. Polanski was already there, along with Johnson, Elias, Everett, and Flynn, and a few men I didn’t recognize. I paused in the small waiting area to take a notebook and pen out of my bag. I didn’t think I’d be taking notes, but holding them might help me hold on to the little bit of dignity I had left. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door. At Dr. Polanski’s nod, I stepped inside.
“Mia.” Dr. Polanski stood and the others in the room quickly followed. “This is Dr. Bergman and Dr. Jacobs. They are from the hospital’s board of directors and will be helping us take the best course of action. You already know the others.” She motioned to the orderlies and Flynn.
“Yes.” I quickly scanned the room, carefully avoiding Flynn’s gaze. I still didn’t know if he was mad at me, and I didn’t think I could bear to see the hurt and anger in his eyes.
“Please, have a seat.”
I did as I was told, taking the seat opposite Dr. Polanski and between Elias and Flynn. I started to tw
irl my pen underneath the conference table. Flynn moved his hand to cover mine, stopping my movements.
I glanced at him and then quickly looked away, not wanting to draw attention to what was going on underneath the table. He squeezed my fingers, and I tried to take courage in the warmth he provided.
“Now, we have all read your account,” Dr. Polanski said. “But I’d like to hear what happened in your own words.”
Carefully, I went through what happened during my internship, starting with the fight with Nesto on the first day and recounting my interactions with Flynn throughout my stay. Flynn squeezed my hand in silent encouragement, and even smiled when I talked about how impressed I was with his dedication in the gym.
“This is ridiculous,” Johnson said as I was telling about how he had asked me out to a local bar. “I’d never ask someone so ugly out on a date.”
“Hold your tongue,” Dr. Polanski said. “You’ll get your turn soon enough.”
I talked about how much Flynn moved me and how I could let down my guard around him. I spoke in a shaky voice as I gave the barest of details when I recounted our interlude in the office.
“And that was when Johnson heard us. He was waiting outside my office and made it known that he knew what I was doing. He told me that he’d keep quiet about Flynn if I went out with him.”
“Is this true?” Dr. Polanski asked Johnson.
“Of course not.” Johnson inched forward until he was on the edge of his seat. “Ms. Horton has been having sex with everyone on the floor.”
“No, that’s not true.” I glanced at Flynn. “I only had sex with one person. Flynn.”
Johnson made a disgusted sound. “She gave it up to everyone, then acted all high and mighty around me. I cornered her good, though.” He looked at me and flashed an oily grin. “She admitted that she was only playing hard to get because she thought I liked it.”
“You disgust me,” I said.
“Enough,” said Dr. Bergman as he shuffled through a small stack of papers. “How about the two of you?” he asked, motioning to Everett and Elias. “What do you have to add to this?”
Everett and Elias added the briefest of details, recounting what they had seen in my office when they had to pull Flynn off Johnson, then again what they had seen when I went down to confinement.