by Nikki Chase
He goes silent. “But I’m not waiting ten more years to do it again,” he says with a serious facial expression. He puts his hand on my cheek; it feels warm.
“Of course not,” I say. My chest pangs with an old pain when I add, “As long as you don’t disappear again.”
“I promise you, I won’t,” Aiden says quickly. He pulls me close into a gentle kiss. “I don’t know if I should be saying this so soon . . . but right now I feel like I don’t want to ever leave your side again.”
“Me neither.”
Aubrey
“What do they usually do in this situation?” I ask Rita, who’s standing beside me by the nurses station.
My eyes scan the document in front of me. The words written on it seem familiar, but there are several ways we can go about this and . . . am I really supposed to make this decision on behalf of this patient?
“Honey,” she says, “you are ‘they’ now. You're the doctor here. I’m a nurse; I can't tell you what to do. You need to be the one making the call.”
Oh God.
I review the patient’s chart once again.
“I’m sure you know what to do. They must've taught you this stuff in med school,” says Rita, who seems to be in her fifties. She has this world-weary look on her face. I must seem like some wide-eyed, helpless baby bird to her.
Rita has just brought me the results from the patient‘s latest test, and it confirms what I thought about his condition . . . I think.
“So what are you going to order?” Rita asks.
“I . . .” The words start to form in my mind, but I can't be a-hundred percent sure I’m right, and a man’s life hangs in the balance. My heart rate goes up as I consider my options.
Oh, I know.
“Um… I’ll call Dr. Graham and see what she thinks.” I grab the phone receiver from the counter before Rita gets a chance to push me for a decision.
Why are people asking me what to do? I just read some books and sat for some exams. I shouldn't be in charge of people's lives.
The biggest responsibility I’d ever had before becoming a medical intern was making sure the money that my dad puts into my account every month goes into the correct bills at the correct times.
I’ve never even been responsible for a pet! I really think I should prove myself by keeping a hamster alive before moving on to human beings. They should make that a condition for graduating medical school.
At the beginning of the final semester, they should give out hamsters to the entire lecture hall and make it a requirement for every student to bring a live hamster to the last exam. The hamsters would make great photo prop at graduation time, too. Those pictures would get so many likes on Instagram.
Dr. Graham doesn’t sound too happy to hear my voice when she picks up the call. I can’t really blame her because this is the fourth time I’ve rung her today, but what else can I do? These people are not safe with me in charge.
Sure, Dr. Graham may be annoyed. But I’m trying to save people’s lives here—from myself.
“Like I asked you all the other times you called me, Aubrey, what do you think the patient needs?”
I pause. I do have a guess in my mind . . . “Forty milligrams of labetalol?”
“That’s good,” Dr. Graham says. “Now, if you call me one more time with something you already know the answer to, I’m going to start ignoring your calls.”
“Sor—” I hear the disconnect tone before I manage to finish my apology. Dr. Graham just hung up on me.
“So…? Forty milligrams of labetalol?” Rita asks with an impatient facial expression, her pen hovering over her note pad, ready to take down the order.
“Yes,” I say as I put the phone receiver back down. I give her a sheepish smile. “Thank you, Rita.”
Later when I tell Aiden about the incident over lunch, he chuckles when I get to the part of the story where Dr. Graham threatens to ignore my phone calls.
“How can you laugh at that?” I ask. “What if I really need her, and she doesn’t help me, and someone dies as a result?”
“I’m sure it won’t come to that,” Aiden says as he stabs a piece of potato with his fork. We’ve been having lunch together every day since that first date we had after work, but we haven’t had much chance to do much else. We’re both too busy working.
“How do you know that?” I ask.
“Because I’m pretty sure she won’t really leave you to flounder on your own. It’s her job to help you. She can get into trouble if you mess up and they find out it’s because you couldn’t reach her.”
I pause. That makes sense, I guess.
“But you know,” Aiden says, his gaze softened, “sooner or later you’re going to have to do things on your own.”
I let out a big sigh. “I know. That’s what I’ve been telling myself, too. It just feels like a huge, sudden flood of responsibilities all of a sudden.”
“Every doctor goes through this. You’ve already learned everything you need to know to do this job. It just takes time to put all that knowledge into practice and to feel like you’re an actual doctor,” Aiden says sensibly.
“Do you feel like a doctor?” I frown. Is it just me who can’t adjust to this stressful work environment, where everything could be a life-and-death situation?
“No,” Aiden says, smiling. “That’s just what I’ve been told by the other doctors.”
“How do you know you’re going to just magically feel like a doctor one day?”
Aiden stops to consider my question, looking off into the distance before he fixes his gaze back on me. “I don’t, actually.”
“You don’t?”
“No, I don’t know that I’m definitely going to feel like a doctor one of these days, but there’s a good chance I will. There’s no use worrying about something that may or may not happen.”
“But what would you do if you still feel like a fake doctor after years of working here?” I ask.
“I’d reconsider what I do for a living. But at the moment, it’s best to just do what I can and hope for the best.” Aiden’s gaze is gentle, his eyes the lightest blue under the sunlight streaming in through the big windows in the cafeteria. “You’re too hard on yourself, princess. As far as I can tell, you’re doing well. You don’t have anything to worry about. And even if you decide this is not the path for you, at least you’ll have learned something about yourself in the process.”
I take a sip of my apple juice. “I mean, you’re right. I really can’t fault your logic. But . . .”
“But . . . ?” Aiden levels his gaze at me.
I take a deep breath. “This is going to sound stupid to you, and it’s going to make me look like such a spoiled brat.”
The corners of Aiden’s lips curl up as an amused glint dances in his eyes. “Try me,” he says.
“Promise me you won’t leave me after hearing this?” I ask, only half-joking.
“Of course I won’t.” Aiden holds out his finger. “Pinky promise.”
“I’m not five,” I say, although I can’t help but smile. I take a deep breath. “In an attempt to be more independent, I told my dad he could stop sending me money.”
“That’s great,” Aiden says.
“Yeah. I have a job, and I can pay my own rent and bills, so I don’t need my dad’s money anymore,” I say. “But now I feel like maybe I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. Maybe I haven’t thought this through.”
“Why would you feel that way?” Aiden asks.
“I don’t know.” I sigh. I’ve been staying up way too late thinking about this, so I know rationally I’ll be fine, but still . . . “I can afford my rent and other expenses fine, but there’s not much left over. I feel like I should’ve tried to build up some savings before I completely cut off the money from my dad. What if I suck as a doctor and I lose my job? What if I don’t have any income anymore?” My heart starts to race as anxiety fills my system. “I can’t just call my dad and ask for money.”
“Yes, you can.” Aiden chuckles. “Your dad’s not going to let you live on the streets. You’re going to be fine.”
“I know I must sound like such a whiner to you. I have this safety net and I’m still bitching about it. I’m sorry. I know you have it much harder.”
“You know what? If anything, I’m the right person to give you some advice. I’ve been familiar with that fear of not being able to provide for myself—and my mom—my whole life,” Aiden says kindly. “The key is simple. You just can’t let that fear take over.”
I look at Aiden. “I know you’re right. I just . . . It’s one thing to know something makes logical sense, but it’s a different thing to really know it . . . you know?”
“Hmm… Yeah,” Aiden says.
“You do?” I’m surprised. I don’t think I explained that well at all.
“Yeah. And I know just the thing you need,” he says with a cryptic smile.
“What is it?”
“It’s a secret for now. A secret prescription for your anxiety. You’ll see tomorrow.”
I frown. What could this be?
Aiden’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat, which is suspicious, but he can’t possibly be planning anything evil, can he?
Nah. I can trust Aiden. I’m sure he knows what he’s doing. He certainly looks like he does . . .
Aubrey
“Do you really know what you’re doing?” I scream at the top of my lungs.
“Relax!” Aiden screams back.
Relax? Relax?!
I‘m questioning every single decision that has led me up to this moment, but introspection can come later. I need to stop my knees from shaking so much and knocking against each other.
We're fifteen-thousand feet above the ground. The wind slaps my hair around, making it hard to see. I can't hear anything either, thanks to the loud plane engine.
Aiden told me to relax, but this whole situation doesn’t exactly inspire serenity within me.
“Don't worry, okay? I’m here,” Aiden says from behind me. “I’ve done this plenty of times, and I’m still alive.”
For now, I think to myself.
We're strapped together to one parachute. This is called tandem skydiving, apparently. At least it's better than whatever they call on-your-own skydiving is. I won't be alone when I jump off to my death.
“Ready?” Aiden asks as we stand at the door of the small aircraft.
The sun gets in my eyes, but I can still see the vast blue ocean below us, as well as the sandy shoreline and the green fields beyond it. I can even see the curve of the planet in the horizon.
“I guess,” I say. I’m already all the way up here. Maybe it won't be such a bad idea to jump off this old rickety plane. The parachute might be a safer way to get back on the ground anyway.
“One . . .” Aiden says excitedly. He sounds like a little boy on Christmas morning.
“. . . two . . .” he counts, his voice getting more eager.
“. . . three!”
I open my mouth to scream as we freefall to Earth. My stomach churns and my heart jumps up to my throat. This is a thousand times more intense than any roller coaster ride I’ve been on.
Faintly, I hear Aiden laugh behind me, exhilarated.
He’s crazy, I realize. I’m putting my life in the hands of a crazy person.
I’m told the freefall portion of this skydive takes about sixty seconds. But that doesn’t seem to mean anything here.
Time stands still as my body adjusts to the speed at which we’re falling. It’s amazing the kind of environments the human body can adapt to. Right now, I’m floating on air. It feels—I hate to admit this—peaceful. Serene.
The straps wrapped around my body jerk me up as Aiden deploys the parachute.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks as we gently float down.
“No,” I say, my heart still pounding as I take in the view around us.
Air currents slow our fall and bring us slowly down. It's not long until my feet drag along the grass and my butt follows, sliding over solid ground.
“I’ve never been this happy to get brown stains on my pants,” I say as we come to a stop.
Aiden laughs as he removes the harness from my body. He gathers the parachute as a guy in the orange uniform of the skydiving company approaches us to help.
“Are you okay?” Aiden asks, joining me on the grass.
“Yeah . . .
I think. I don't know. I feel like I kind of liked that, especially toward the end, but I kind of hated it too.”
Aiden chuckles. “Wanna go again?”
“No,” I say quickly. “My knees aren't even strong enough for me to stand yet.”
“Like I just demonstrated, you don't need your feet to work to skydive.”
“True,” I admit. The late morning sunlight hits the ocean in the distance, making the white peaks of the waves appear like they're sparkling. “You know, I have to say, I would’ve been a lot more scared without you there with me.”
Aiden slings his arm around my shoulders as he sits, cross-legged, beside me. “I told you, you had nothing to worry about. I worked here as an instructor for years.”
My breathing has gone back to normal, along with me heart rate. “I guess it worked, in a way. I was so scared of dying I didn’t even have enough space in my brain to worry. And now I’m just glad I survived that.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to show you. You seemed to have some trouble internalizing the concept of putting your anxiety aside to deal with what’s right in front of you. But you see, sometimes you just have to be fully present in the moment.”
“Huh . . . I guess you’re right. Life is just like jumping off a plane to my death,” I say with a teasing smile.
“Exactly. Glad you see things from my perspective now.” Aiden grins.
I pause, thinking. “I guess if everything goes wrong, I’ll still have my dad’s money as my parachute.”
“No way,” Aiden says with a frown. “You are your own parachute. The only parachute you need is yourself. You can do this, princess. Hell, you’re already doing it. I don’t know where you got the idea from that you’re just a brat. You’re a smart, capable young doctor who’s absolutely killing it.”
“Killing what?”
“I don’t know,” Aiden shrugs. “It’s an expression. And I’m just realizing now that it’s probably not the right word to use here.”
“Yeah, it really isn’t,” I say. I turn my head to look at Aiden, squinting because the sun’s right behind him. ”You really think I can do it?”
“You’re already doing it, princess,” Aiden says matter-of-factly.
“When you call me ‘princess,’ that doesn’t exactly instill me with confidence that I can survive on my own. Princesses generally have a ton of people doing all the work for them.”
“You’re a special princess. You’re different,” he says. His dark hair is a wild mess after that free fall, and now the sun highlights all those stray strands sticking out all over the place.
I giggle. “Your hair looks ridiculous.”
“So does yours,” he says as he reaches over to comb through my hair with his fingers.
“Thank you for taking me skydiving, A.”
“I didn’t do it just for you,” he says. “This is something I love to do when I have the time. It calms me down. It makes me forget my problems and reminds me what’s really important. I was hoping it’d help you, but I also wanted to share this experience with you for my own sake.”
“That makes me want to take you shopping sometime. That’s what calms me down usually.” I pause. “But now that I don’t have my dad’s credit card anymore, it’s probably just going to stress me out even more.”
Aiden laughs. “You’re not like all the other rich girls I met in med school, princess. I love that you’re so stubbornly independent despite your family’s wealth.”
My heart flips when he says that little word. “Love.”
Don’t get too excited, I scold myself in my head. He said he loves your independence; not you.
“You know what my dad’s like. He’s way too overbearing and controlling for me to want to accept his help. You know he tracked my phone, right?”
Aiden chuckles. “Yeah. You’ve only told me about eleven times.”
I draw my knees up to my chest as I watch the ocean. Sunlight bathes my skin, blanketing me with warmth.
“Is anything wrong?” Aiden asks. “You’ve grown quiet.”
“I’ve been thinking…” I let my sentence hang in the air.
No. I must be wrong.
I nuzzle into the crook of Aiden’s neck, hiding my face from him.
“What have you been thinking about?” he asks.
I hesitate for a moment. But I can’t not say it now.
“The internship and money aren’t the only things that worry me,” I say.
“Are you worried about the quality of the job I did on your bathroom tap?” Aiden asks. “I’m telling you, I’ve fixed all kinds of things around the house while I was growing up. I’ve repaired a dozen dripping taps.”
I giggle. “That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?” Aiden asks softly.
“Promise you won’t get mad at me?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says, with a heartbreakingly gentle voice. “Of course.”
“I love how you know exactly when to take things seriously,” I say, stalling and dropping a hint about how I feel at the same time. I gaze longingly at him.
Mild surprise registers in Aiden’s eyes, then he smiles the kind of smile that overtakes all his features. The skin around his eyes wrinkles. His muscles relax.
I hope that will soften the blow when I tell him of my suspicions.
“I’ve been thinking about what happened ten years ago,” I say, my heart thumping in my chest. “You said your mom threw away your phone and changed your email password so you couldn’t contact anyone you used to know, right?”
“Yeah,” Aiden says.
“You remembered my phone number and my email address, though, so you tried to contact me.”
