by Malone, Cara
* * *
Ivy’s father came home late in the evening, after the three of them had already eaten dinner. Their mother took what was left of the pot pie out of the refrigerator and warmed it for him while he sat at the dining room table and ran through the itinerary for Victor’s graduation the following day.
Ten a.m., everyone dressed and ready to go. Eleven, drop Victor off at the stadium. Eleven-thirty, find suitable seats. Twelve noon, ceremony begins. Three p.m., back home to begin setting up for a small, celebratory party to include relatives and a few of Victor’s classmates.
To the end of the list, Ivy mentally added, Six p.m., die of hypothermia from being in Victor’s shadow all day. Then when her father was finished talking, she said, “Sounds good, Pa. We’re proud of you, Victor.”
He rolled his eyes so that only Ivy could see it and said, “We’re proud of you too, big sis.”
Ivy sat with her father while he ate and asked about his day. He was a renowned neurosurgeon, the same subspecialty that Ivy hoped to enter, and she loved hearing every little detail about the surgeries he performed. That was enough to turn Victor green around the gills, so it was a surefire way to get some one-on-one time with their father. Ivy was excited for her rotation in the surgical department, which would begin in early November, because then she would finally have her own work stories to contribute when she talked to her father.
Tonight he told her about a tumor resection he’d done – an awake brain surgery that Ivy found endlessly fascinating – and then when he was finished with his dinner, they joined the rest of the family in the den. Victor was sitting at one end of the sofa with an exam prep workbook in his lap and their mother was sitting in an armchair near the television, flipping back and forth between a couple different news channels with the volume turned down low so Victor could concentrate on his reading. It was a familiar scene and Ivy had spent many an evening in high school just like this.
Pa sat down in his favorite chair and used his laptop to read up on the latest neurosurgical studies and Ivy grabbed one of her textbooks out of her duffel bag, then sat down on the other end of the sofa across from Victor. She’d always admired her father’s work ethic and the commitment that he made to his career – he worked long hours and did whatever it took to be the best neurosurgeon in his hospital, or possibly even the state. Ivy was doing everything she could to follow in his footsteps.
It wasn’t a bad way to pass an evening, and Ivy would likely be doing something very similar if she was at school, alone in her student housing apartment. She was halfway through a chapter on community-acquired pneumonia when she turned the page and heard Victor flip rather forcefully to the next page in his workbook.
She glanced over at him and he was already looking back at her.
Ivy rolled her eyes and resumed reading. When she got to the end of the page, she turned it and a second later, Victor did the same, just as forcefully as before. She looked at him again and he cocked his eyebrow, challenging her. Ivy started reading faster.
This continued for almost an hour, both of them speed-reading and flipping furiously through their books, until the words began to blur together. Just as Ivy was getting frustrated with this absurd competition – which their parents were pretending not to notice despite the near-constant sound of pages being turned – Victor snapped his workbook shut and stood up.
“Well, I put in a good sixteen-hour day of studying,” he announced. “I’m going to bed.”
He left the den with his head held high and his chest puffed out, and when he was gone, Ivy let her textbook slide onto the cushion beside her. It had been a long time since her last visit home and she’d forgotten how exhausting it was to compete with her little brother over everything.
After a minute, she said, “I think I’ll go to bed, too. Tomorrow will be a long day.”
There was no point in continuing the race when her competitor had already won and left the arena, after all.
“Yes, it will,” her father agreed. “Get some rest, Ivy.”
* * *
Ivy woke up early the next day, as she always did. The sun was just beginning to rise when her alarm clock went off, which was important if she was going to get a morning run in before the heat of the day set in. It was late August, but they were in the middle of an Indian summer and by the time the graduation ceremony began at noon, the temperature was slated to be in the eighties.
Ivy changed into a pair of shorts and running shoes, tied her long, straight hair into a neat ponytail, and went quietly down the ornate staircase, avoiding the treads that she knew were creaky so as not to disturb her sleeping family. Her parents’ neighborhood was ideal for running – a sleepy suburb without much traffic and just enough changes in elevation to provide a challenge. Ivy missed this route, which she’d taken almost every day in high school – it was peaceful and running helped clear her mind, something she would need to get through Victor’s big day.
When she could manage to separate herself from the competition – no easy task since it had been a part of her relationship with her brother since they were very young – Ivy was happy for him. Victor was smart and she knew he would sail through his bar exam and become a great lawyer. It would be nice if he could do it without stepping on her back to get their parents’ accolades, but today she would give him his time in the spotlight. It would be her turn next summer when she graduated from medical school.
Ivy was halfway through her run, sweat sticking her shirt to her back even this early in the day, when she heard the pounding of shoes on the pavement behind her. They came faster and faster despite the incline of the street and she glanced over her shoulder.
“Hey, sis,” Victor said with a smile, looking barely winded. “Nice morning for a run.”
“Yeah,” Ivy agreed, trying not to sound out of breath. She glanced at the GPS watch on her wrist and increased her pace a little bit, her thighs burning as she climbed up the long, gradual hill.
“Where you going?” Victor teased as she pulled ahead of him but Ivy just ran faster.
She could hear his footsteps keeping pace behind her but she was determined to outrun him. Ivy was nearly sprinting and her lungs were burning by the time she got to the top of the hill. Her whole body was screaming for water, or at the very least to slow down to her normal pace, but she kept pushing onward, her breath coming faster and harder to match Victor’s steady footsteps until finally he got tired of toying with her and his long legs carried him past her with ease.
“See you at home, sis,” he said, turning around to jog backward a few steps and smile at her. “Don’t stay out too long – we’ve got a lot to do today.”
Then he turned around and picked up his pace as if to prove that he’d been jogging casually this whole time. As soon as he rounded the street corner and was out of sight, Ivy stopped and put her hands on her thighs, panting and wondering if her legs, which felt like jelly, would carry her home.
4
Chloe
By Saturday night, Chloe was beginning to feel a little stir crazy. She’d spent most of her break week trying to stay in her room or out of the apartment to give Megan and Alex space – it wasn’t just Chloe who was on break. She knew that they didn’t get to spend as much time as they wanted together because of Megan’s rotations and Alex’s crazy paramedic shifts, so she tried to give them the apartment to herself when she could.
But she’d blown through The Body Keeps the Score in a single night and spent the rest of the weekend keeping herself busy, cleaning her room and organizing all of her emergency medicine notes. When she started to consider the value of re-writing and color-coding all of her licensing board exam notecards, though, it was time to get out of the apartment.
Chloe put on a pair of sneakers and grabbed a reusable shopping bag from the hook on her bedroom door, then went into the living room. Megan and Alex had pushed the coffee table against the wall and were laughing at each other’s poor form as they followed half-heartedly al
ong with a kickboxing video on the television.
“Hey,” Alex said, not breaking out of her fighter’s stance when she saw Chloe. “You’ve been holed up in your room all weekend. We were worried about you.”
“I was just studying,” Chloe said, which wasn’t a complete lie.
“You want to blow off some steam?” Megan asked, miming an uppercut at the air in front of her. “Join us.”
“Nah,” Chloe said with a laugh. She’d been kickboxing since high school – something her dad got her into – and she could probably teach Megan and Alex a few things about proper form, but for now she had her eye on the farmer’s market. “I’m going to pick up some groceries for dinner. Do you two have any requests?”
“Oh, shoot,” Alex said. “We have reservations at that little Italian place. We were going to have a date night to get out of your hair for a while.”
“That’s okay,” Chloe said.
“You could come with us,” Alex suggested, but Chloe waved her away.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “You two have fun. Just don’t buy some overpriced dessert – I’ll make an apple tart.”
“Yum,” Megan said, then threw a right hook. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Chloe said. She slung her reusable shopping bag over her shoulder and headed for the door, intent on not lingering in Megan and Alex’s relationship for any longer than she needed to.
While she walked to the farmer’s market, which was only a couple blocks away and which she went to as often as she could afford it, Chloe thought about the absurdity of their situation. She’d fallen helplessly in love with Megan when they first began medical school and her crush was intensified by the fact that they lived together. Megan was beautiful with her fiery, wild hair and emerald eyes, intelligent and witty, and confident in everything that she did.
Not that she ever noticed Chloe in that way, no matter how hard she tried to get Megan’s attention. That may have had something to do with the fact that she was more than a little damaged when Chloe met her, recovering from a relationship that went bad in undergrad and trying to learn how to stop blaming herself for it.
The nurturing side of Chloe longed to scoop Megan up in her arms and find a way to fix her, and it wasn’t until Alex came along that Chloe finally realized she wasn’t the one who had the right medicine to fix Megan. Alex did – she was patient but challenging, strong and nurturing in a way of her own, and it had been a remarkable thing to watch, the way they complemented and healed each other.
That was the point at which things could have gone horribly awry, if Alex was the jealous type or if Chloe didn’t acknowledge her crush on Megan for what it was – a passing kind of puppy love. But even though Chloe felt like a third wheel a lot of the time, the three of them had miraculously found a way to cohabitate for the last two years.
Two was probably enough, though.
Chloe went inside the market and as she loaded her shopping bag with everything she’d need to make dinner for one, she thought about what it would be like to live on her own. She was sure Megan and Alex wanted to make things official and move in together, even though they were both too mindful of her feelings to say it out loud. If she stayed much longer things would start to get awkward, but Chloe had never lived alone before. The idea was a little bit nerve-wracking.
She walked leisurely through the market, stopping to chat with a few of the employees that she’d gotten to know over the last several years. The produce changed almost every week, based on availability from local farms, and Chloe took great joy in picking her meals from the abundance there. She got the apples, butter and flour she would need for the tart, plus all the ingredients to make a fresh Caprese salad and grilled chicken for herself. The air was warm for a late August afternoon so she walked slowly on her way back, and the apartment was empty by the time she got home.
She went into the kitchen and unpacked her bounty, which took up nearly the whole counter space. She was just wondering if she’d overdone it when her phone began vibrating in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw Momma on the screen.
Chloe smiled and answered, “Hi, Momma.”
“Hey, baby,” her mother said. They talked about once a week and texted each other constantly, but it was always good to hear her voice. “Is this a good time?”
“Sure,” Chloe said, switching to speakerphone so she could set the phone on the counter. “I’m just cooking dinner.”
“Oh yeah?” her mom asked. “What’s on the menu?”
Chloe gave her a run-down of everything she bought while she retrieved a cutting board from the cabinet and started preparing the chicken. Telling each other about their dinner plans had become somewhat of a ritual ever since Chloe moved away for medical school, especially since her dad’s heart troubles had fundamentally changed her parents’ diet.
He’d had a cardiac event – not quite a heart attack, but still serious – in Chloe’s second year of medical school. It had been incredibly difficult not being able to be with him while he recovered and Alex was one of the only people who understood what she was going through. Her own father had passed of a heart attack and that common thread may have been one of the reasons that she and Chloe got along so well in their strange little relationship triangle.
“What are you guys having?” Chloe asked.
“Daddy was in the mood for salmon,” her mom said. “I’ve got it in the oven right now. We’re going to eat it with glazed carrots and I made a chocolate mousse for dessert, but that’s mostly for me and your sister.”
“You’re not going to let him have any? He’s not going to like that,” Chloe said, laughing. Her father could be quite stubborn and she knew the odds of him skipping dessert entirely were next to none. Her mom agreed and said she’d let him eat a small serving, but not until after she teased him a bit, and then Chloe said, “I wish I could be there to eat with you.”
“Me too,” her mom said. “It’ll be Thanksgiving before you know it.”
“I told you, Momma,” Chloe said, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it this year. I’ll be right in the middle of my pediatrics rotation and I’ll probably only get one or two days off for the holiday. Besides, you know how expensive plane tickets are.”
“I know,” her mom said. “We just miss you is all.”
Chloe let out a little sigh, trying not to let the phone speaker pick it up. Her family lived in Seattle and it was hard being so far away from them, but none of them could afford to pay the travel expenses for her to come home for short visits.
She grabbed a bottle of olive oil from the cabinet to start cooking her chicken while her mom changed the subject, asking Chloe about her upcoming rotation in the Emergency Room and then about the medical licensing exam in December. “Are you nervous or excited?”
“About the ER?”
“No, the exam,” her mom said. “You’ve been studying with Ivy, right?”
“Yeah,” Chloe said. “About once a week. I think we’ll do fine but Ivy is never satisfied.”
Her mom laughed and said, “I’m sure she’ll do fine.”
Chloe’s mom had made it her second job to know all of Chloe’s Northwestern friends vicariously through her daughter. She knew how moody Megan could get when she was stressed and how much happier she was now that she had Alex to keep her on an even keel. She knew about Ivy’s meticulous nature and Chloe’s concern for her inability to unwind when she could be studying instead.
That was probably exactly what she was doing right now. Chloe wondered if Ivy even bothered to eat when she was alone and deep in her flashcards.
Her mother had met Ivy just once, when the whole family came to Evanston to surprise Chloe during a long Labor Day weekend when she couldn’t find the time or money to come home. They’d driven all the way across the country just to see Chloe for a few days and she’d had to cancel a study session with Ivy to accommodate them, so they invited her to dinner by way of an apology. Chloe’s mom loved her imme
diately and asked after her often as if she was an honorary member of the family.
“What rotation is she starting?”
“Emergency medicine, same as me and Megan,” Chloe said as she put her chicken in the oven.
“Oh that’ll be fun,” her mom said. “Unless the two of them are still feuding.”
“I don’t think that’ll ever change,” Chloe said, turning her attention to the apple tart and flouring the kitchen counter so she could make the crust. “Speaking of changes, is Daddy finally coming to terms with the new diet?”
“You tell me,” her mom said. “Yesterday he called me from the road to ask whether I knew he was a man and not a rabbit. I assumed that meant he wasn’t enthusiastic about the lunch I packed him.”
Chloe snorted at this and flour billowed across the counter.
“Poor daddy,” she said, grabbing a towel to try to contain the mess she was making. Then she said, “I’m making a disaster area of the kitchen. I better hang up and focus on this tart.”
“Okay, baby,” her mom said. “I’ll text you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” Chloe agreed. “Enjoy your salmon.”
“Enjoy your chicken.”
“Night, Momma,” Chloe said, using her pinky to hang up the phone because it was the only finger that didn’t have flour on it.
Then she formed the dough for her apple tart and re-floured the countertop so she could roll it out into a thin, even crust. Megan and Alex wouldn’t be back for a few hours, but that was okay. It would give Chloe a little time to pretend that the apartment was just hers and settle into the idea of looking for a place of her own.
5
Ivy
Victor drove Ivy to the bus depot on Sunday evening. He made a big show of looping the tassel from his mortarboard over the rear-view mirror before starting the engine even though it was their father’s car and Ivy knew Victor would have to take the tassel down again as soon as he got home.