by Penny Wylder
“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait out here?” Russ asks, his forehead puckered with concern, though not about my father.
“I told you, I’m done tiptoeing around his stupid rules. If you want to stay out here, I understand—”
“I’d rather come with,” he says, with a shrug. “But it’s up to you.”
“Come on.” I step out of the car, and he follows a moment later. Both our car doors slam, loud enough they should get an answer from inside the house, if anyone is in there. Nothing.
I fetch the spare key from a hidden fake rock in the backyard and open the backdoor. “Hello?” I call as I step into the kitchen. “Anyone home?”
The house sits silent in response. I shrug and walk all the way in, Russ close on my heels.
“I’ll just be a couple minutes,” I tell him. “If you want coffee or anything, the machine makes it each morning automatically. There should still be plenty left.” I leave him to help himself and jog upstairs, two at a time. In my room, I toss off my scrubs and throw on fresh ones. I wash my face and do a quick dash of makeup—nothing fancy, just foundation and mascara, the way I usually do every morning.
Then I trudge back downstairs, feeling refreshed and ready to face whatever today is about to throw my way.
In the kitchen, Russ has prepared us both cups of coffee, and he’s in the middle of frying some eggs he scrounged from the fridge. I smile at the sight of him at the stovetop. He turns to wink in my direction, smiling broadly. “Have a seat,” he calls. “Breakfast will be served in one minute.”
I slide onto a barstool with a wry grin. “You do realize that we have to be at work in less than half an hour.”
“Guess we’ll both just have to enjoy our gourmet meal quickly, then,” he counters. He pops some eggs onto each plate, and presents mine to me with a flourish. I take a sip of my coffee as I watch him dig into his own.
It feels strange to be here with him, in my parents’ kitchen, in the house where I grew up. In the house where I spent my early twenties eying him with desire every time he visited, too.
Yet somehow, despite the strangeness, it also feels… right. I’ve never felt this at ease here, even when I’m home alone. Some part of me is already dreading my father’s return and his scolding. But with Russ here, I feel relaxed, calm, even happy.
I take another long drag from my coffee cup and poke at my eggs. “So… are you really sure about this?” I ask. And somehow, I don’t think I’m talking about work or disagreeing with my father professionally, anymore.
Russ reaches over. His hand comes to rest over mine, and I let the fork fall to the plate. “Maggie, look at me.” I raise my eyes to his. “Of course I’m sure. But I want you to be, too.”
“I am.” I search his eyes for any hint of hesitation or disagreement. I don’t find it, though. All I see there are his feelings for me, clear and obvious, shining through.
He really does care, I think with a faint smile, some part of me still unable to believe my luck. But a bigger part feels like this was always inevitable. Like we were inevitable.
I swallow around a sudden lump in my throat, and slide off my kitchen stool to step over to where he’s leaning against the counter. “To be honest…” I start slowly. “Losing my job is terrifying. Losing my security, having my parents not willing to speak to me anymore maybe.” I gesture at the empty house around us. “It’s all terrifying. But I’ll manage. In the past, I was too scared to think about what life would be like without all the security they provide, the wealth and the safety. But how secure was it ever, really? How safe was I before, if Dad was always willing to fire me with a snap of his fingers the second I stepped out of line?”
He watches me, sensing that I need to get this all out now.
“I’m ready to take the leap,” I say. “I’m ready to stand on my own two feet and see what comes of it. And, if you’re willing… I’d like you to be there, too.” I smile as I finish speaking, because Russ is already beaming too, ear to ear.
“Maggie… of course.” He leans down to kiss me, slow and soft and deep. I sink against him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he deepens the kiss. When we break apart, our faces hover a bare inch from one another. “We’ll be fine,” he murmurs. “Especially since we’re in this together.”
I tighten my grip on his neck. Kiss him again. When we break apart, he’s gazing at me with an intensity I’ve never seen before.
“I love you, Maggie Owens,” he says, loud and clear and steady. The words set off fireworks in the pit of my stomach, make my nerve endings light up with pleasure.
That’s when a gasp from the doorway interrupts us.
13
I whip around to find my mother and father standing in the doorway. Mom has her hand pressed over her mouth, keys dangling from her limp fingertips. Oh fuck.
They weren’t out of the house. Dad wasn’t at work.
“What is the—where have you—what is the meaning of this?” Dad bellows. His whole face has bypassed red and gone straight to purple. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this angry before. It’s somehow both terrifying and weirdly funny at once. A small, hysterical part of my brain just wants to start laughing at this whole damn situation.
A bigger part is too busy staring at both of my parents in horror.
“Get your hands off my daughter,” Dad finally sputters in Russ’s direction, taking a threatening step toward us.
But I reach down to grab Russ’s hand, and I don’t let go. I squeeze his fingers tight in an unspoken message. Russ put it all on the line for me yesterday, standing up to my father on my behalf. Now it’s my turn to do the same. “Don’t tell him what to do, Dad. It’s not your decision.”
“Not my—!”
“Exactly,” I interrupt. “Russ.” I turn back to him. I didn’t answer his statement earlier, and I really need to. “I love you too,” I tell him, and it’s worth everything just to see the way the words light up his face, spread a smile across it. I turn back to my parents, my shoulders straight and firm. “We’re in love, and we’re going to be together. I’m sick of hiding it.”
“This is unacceptable, Maggie,” my father yells, finally recovering his voice, it seems. “First all of your disobedience yesterday, then you disappear all night, leaving your mother frantic with worry.” He gestures at her. As for Mom, she’s glancing back and forth between Russ and me, her face a mask of confusion, as if she’s doing mental calculus. Trying to figure out if she should have guessed this was happening sooner, or what signs she missed. “We left before dawn today looking for you, driving by all of your little friends’ houses.”
My friends who are currently in other countries? I roll my eyes, not bothering to disguise it. Even if I had been missing, my own father wouldn’t have even been able to guess where to find me.
“And now we learn you were shacking up with my, my… my friend, my colleague, a man twice your age—”
“I am a grown adult now, Dad,” I snap. “I’m sorry that you still can’t see that. I’m sorry you think that you have the right to control me even now, but you don’t. It’s my life, and I get to decide how I spend it. I want to be with Russ.”
“Honey,” Mom begins, but my father bellows over her.
“And you.” He rounds on Russ. “After everything we’ve been through together. I never want to see your face again.”
I tense, ready to fight back more, but Russ rests a hand on my shoulder, communicating without words that it’s his turn, now.
“That’s fine, John,” Russ says, in a voice so quiet and calm that it confuses my father into clamping his mouth shut. “I’ve enjoyed our friendship over the years, I really have. But you never really saw the real me, anyway. Back when we were younger, you willfully ignored me for a while. So what difference will it make, if you do so again now?” He shakes his head, but he looks sad, too. “Our friendship was always built on half-truths anyway. Maybe it’s better to just get the whole truth out there.”
“I’m talking about when we were freshmen in med school,” Russ says, his voice rising, though it remains steady. “Back when I had nowhere to go, no home or money or even food. You were my best friend, John, even then, and you never even noticed. Didn’t you wonder why I looked the way I did in classes? Did you wonder why I filled my pockets with leftovers every time we splurged on a trip to the dining hall?”
My father’s face shifts from an angry red to a washed-out pale. “What… what are you talking about?”
“You really never noticed, the way I never talked about family, or the way I skipped nights out drinking with the other guys in our class…”
“I thought you were just more serious. That you wanted to study more.”
“You used to even make fun of me.” Russ laughs softly, not a happy sound. “You told me I should buy more than one shirt. You didn’t know I literally couldn’t. Because how could you guess that? You’d have to actually be paying attention to the people around you to notice it.”
My father’s mouth hangs open completely, now.
“I was homeless, John. For two whole months. And my best friend never even noticed. What kind of friendship is that?” Russ shakes his head sadly, and squeezes my hand gently, where his fingers are still entwined in mine, at our sides. “Come on, Maggie,” he murmurs in a quieter voice now. “I think our work here is done for today.”
“It most certainly is. Get out of my house. Both of you,” Dad finishes in a low, threatening growl. “And don’t let me see you at the hospital either.”
“Maggie.” My mother’s eyes finally meet mine. She tilts her head, a question written all over her face. Is this really what you want?
I might not feel bad about hurting my father right now, but I do feel bad about Mom. She didn’t ask for any of this. She’s the only one who’s always known how to stand up to Dad, but even she can’t help how he treats everyone else in his life. The only thing that breaks my heart right now is leaving her alone with him, to sort out the mess that he caused.
But what else can I do? Just like Russ is who I want to be with, Dad is who she wants to be with. I understand that. I just can’t put up with him doing this kind of stuff anymore, even for her sake.
So I squeeze Russ’s hand in return and let him lead me out of the house. Behind us, I hear my mother’s breath hitch, and I ignore a guilty twinge. She’s crying. Because of me. Because of what we decided to do just now.
But Dad’s the one who told us to leave. Dad’s the one who keeps setting all these ultimatums. I won’t fall into line after him like a good little soldier. Not anymore.
We march out onto the back porch. Once the fresh air hits, my breathing comes faster, quicker. Russ pauses just next to where he parked his car and reaches down to cup my cheeks between his palms. “You okay?” he whispers, so close our noses touch, and his breath dances like frost in the chilly morning air.
“I’m okay,” I breathe. His lips touch mine, brief and faint. Just enough to keep me standing, moving, for now. As long as I have him, I can handle this.
Then I remember everything that happened in there—everything—and a faint smile rises to my lips once more. “Did you mean it? You love me.”
His eyes dance where they find mine. “I think you knew that already, Maggie. And you love me too.”
“I do.” I grin, and he kisses me again, slower. When we break apart, I feel energized once more. Able to face all of this. I cross around to the passenger side and climb into the car with slow movements. Inside, I fasten my seat belt, and for a moment, we both just sit there and consider the big, empty, dark house. Behind us, out on the street, I spot Dad’s car parked sideways in a spot, as if they sped into a street parking spot just so they could run inside and run back out again. I guess they really were searching for me. Stopping by quickly to scan the property.
I check my phone, which I left on the seat of Russ’s car, and find a couple of missed calls, all from Mom’s line. I wonder why they only tried calling me in the morning, if they were out so early hunting the streets for me. But then I remember that I had my phone turned off back at Russ’s. I guess whatever they had to say to me, they didn’t want to do it in a voicemail.
I let out a sigh and fiddle with the phone, flipping it over between my palms. Then I slide the power button and turn it back off. I’m taking a break from the world today.
“So… where to?” Russ asks with a glance at me. We can’t go to the hospital for our shifts. Dad made it clear we wouldn’t be welcome there.
I wonder how long it will take for him to draw up severance papers. I wonder what excuse he’ll give for firing us both. It doesn’t matter. We have each other. That’s what matters.
I lean back against the seat. “Central Park?” I suggest, uncertain. At least nature might do us some good.
That’s when a palm slaps against my window, startling me. I jump nearly out of my seat. Dad’s standing by the passenger side window. He glances back over his shoulder, where I can see Mom standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her all black outfit, the meanest glare I’ve ever seen on her face. Mom rarely ever gets angry, but oh boy, when she does…
Dad taps at the window again, a little more gently this time, and Russ and I trade glances. I shrug and nod at him, and he pushes the button to roll down the power window slowly.
“Yes?” I ask, and I hope my voice sounds as dangerous as Mom looks.
But Dad doesn’t look at me. He looks past me, at Russ. “Were you telling the truth back there?” he asks, his voice low and filled with emotion. If I didn’t know him better, I’d almost say it sounded like regret. Maybe even hurt.
“About being homeless?” Russ’s eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. “Of course. Why would I make something like that up?”
“No, no.” Dad shakes his head. Then he pauses. His face pinches with a whole new feeling. That one is definitely regret. “I mean… I suspected something was going on, at the time. But I didn’t want to bring it up. I thought you wouldn’t want to talk about it, or that you’d be embarrassed by it.”
“I was,” Russ admits quietly. He shakes his head. “But I still needed help.”
“And I should have seen that. I’m sorry.” My father clears his throat. “But no, I meant… did you mean the other thing that you said. Do you really love Maggie?”
My eyes shoot wide as I glance from my father to Russ and back.
But Russ just looks at me, not even paying attention to my dad now. “I do mean it.” Russ reaches over to touch my chin and turn my face toward his. As if I could ever turn away. He leans in and kisses me, just a quick soft peck. But one that says it all.
We’re doing this. Whether you like it or not.
Back outside the car window, my father has crossed his arms. But the look he’s giving us now isn’t the same glare of sheer fury he wore earlier. He looks pensive. Thoughtful. “Well. Don’t think I fully approve, because I do still think there’s a very wide age difference, and—”
“John,” barks my mother from the back door of the house.
It almost makes me smile. Almost.
My father clears his throat with evident difficulty. “But, Maggie… You’re right. You are an adult now. More than that, you’re a smart, capable, responsible adult. I should trust you to make your own life decisions more often.” He takes a step back from the window and glances from me to Russ and back again. When he speaks next, his eyes focus on me. “I didn’t mean what I said, earlier. I do still want to see you both again. And Maggie, this house will always be your home. As for the hospital…”
He hesitates. Sucks in a deep breath and squares his shoulders, as if he’s bracing himself for something.
“If you both want to come back to
work today, you are more than welcome to. I shouldn’t fire you for having lives outside of work, or for being brave enough to stand up to me when I make a bad, blind call in terms of other peoples’ care.”
“Is this you admitting you were wrong yesterday?” I blurt, unable to help myself.
Somewhere in the distance, I catch the faint sound of my mother’s laughter. My father, on the other hand, only scowls even more deeply. “I did not say wrong, precisely.” Then he catches himself and clamps his lips together. “But I was, Maggie. You were right. The people in the emergency needed your care and attention more than one wealthy board member did. Thank you for reminding me of my priorities, because I seem to have forgotten them somewhat, in recent years.”
A slow smile breaks out across my face. “It’s okay, Dad.”
“Well.” He clears his throat again, all gruffness now. He’s never been the type to talk about emotions for long, and situations in which he made a mistake make him even less comfortable with it. Admitting mistakes isn’t exactly his forte, clearly. “I’ll see you back at work in a few hours, then?” He glances past me at the clock.
I hesitate. This is it. A way to reverse what happened yesterday. A way to walk back all the drama and upset, so I can go back to my normal, easy life. The life I was living perfectly happily before Russ came along.
But was I really happy? Or was I just biding time, treading water at the hospital, while missing out on chasing my own dreams?
I exchange another long, pointed look with Russ, at this point. He shrugs one shoulder and nods, as if to say, Up to you. And for once, I realize, it is. My future and my destiny are in my own hands.
In fact, they always have been. I just needed to realize it myself. And thanks to Russ believing in me and helping me stand up to my father, I know it now.
“Actually…” I say slowly. My father blinks. But I force myself to meet his gaze and hold it. If I’m going to do this right now, the least I can do is look him in the eye. “I appreciate the offer to come back and work with you again, Dad. I really do. And maybe Russ will want to, I’m not sure. But… this hospital was never the right place for me. It’s time for me to finally follow my heart, Dad. Which means that I can’t let anything hold me back. Not your expectations, or the safe career path I should follow. I have to do what feels right.”