by Monica James
“Your father is just over there,” Pat says, pointing to a huge oak tree. I can see him sitting in his wheelchair, his back turned to the festivities.
“Thanks, Pat. I’ll see if he wants to join in on the fun.” She smiles and nods.
I make my way down the hill, wondering why my father has decided to sit down here and miss out on all the fun. As I round the tree, I almost trip over my feet, realizing why. “Madison?”
Her green eyes guiltily dart up to meet mine, as she’s crouched down at my father’s feet. She quickly stands and replaces the knitted blanket over his legs. It appears she was doing up his shoelaces. She’s taking care of him, but why?
“What are you doing here?” I abruptly ask, cringing when I realize how rude that sounded.
“I was just leaving,” she bites back, leaning forward and kissing my father on the head. “Ciao, Pino. Ci vediamo dopo.”
My mouth drops open even further. “You speak Italian now? Since when?” I shout. I need to quit yelling at her, but my emotions are running haywire and I have no idea what’s going on.
“Goodbye, Dixon.” She attempts to shove past me, but I leap out and latch onto her arm. The moment we make contact, my body hums in familiarity. It never wants to let her go.
“Goodbye? I don’t think so. You didn’t answer my question,” I press, tightening my hold.
She rips her arm from my grip and glares at me. “I was invited, remember? Or did you lie about that, too?”
I recoil, her words kicking me straight in the balls. I deserve them. “Of course you were. I’m sorry. My mistake.” She nods smugly and straightens out her red coat. But her self-righteousness disappears soon after, and she peers down at her boots.
This is so damn awkward. I never thought I would ever feel this way around Madison, but I do. I can’t remember a time when I wanted to flee more than I do right now. So I stand mutely, rocking back on my heels and waiting for her to leave.
But she doesn’t. Her gaze lingers on my bandaged hand. Does she know what happened to her brother? Either way, it doesn’t matter anymore. She’s no longer my concern. I remind myself I am doing this for her, and continue to stand my ground.
Who am I kidding? Standing my ground is dreadful. I feel sick inside and I think I’m seconds away from losing my lunch. I have never felt this way before and I’m not afraid to admit it. “Madison…”
She looks up, tears welling in her eyes.
The sight kills me. But I persevere. “How have you been?”
She kicks at the dirt, biting her lip as she wipes her eyes. “I’ve been okay.”
“That’s good to hear,” I lie, as I want her to confess that she is as miserable as I am. “How’s school?”
She shrugs. “It’s fine. I got into Mount Sinai.”
Thanks to the night where everything turned to shit, I never got a chance to ask Maddy how her interviews went. “That’s fantastic. Congratulations. You must be over the moon.”
But she appears anything but overjoyed. “I can’t do this,” she suddenly says, bursting into tears.
Telling my resolve to fuck off, I attempt to hug her, but she jumps backwards and folds her arms around her slender torso.
“Can’t do what?” I question, ignoring how I repulse her.
“I can’t pretend like everything is all right between us,” she replies, reaching into her pocket and wiping her red nose with a handkerchief.
“I understand that, Maddy. I know things will never be the same between us, but I’d like it if we could still be friends.”
She scoffs, shaking her head incredulously. “I believe it was you who said we were never just friends.”
She’s right. I did say that to her. But I just can’t let her walk out of my life. Her being here means something, right? It’s got to. “Why are you here?”
“I-I…” she falters.
“You what?” I ask, taking a step toward her.
“I wanted to see your father,” she confesses.
“Why?”
“Because I missed him…I missed you,” she softly reveals, meeting my concentrated stare.
My heart leaps at her admission, but I remain cool, not wanting to mess this up. “I missed you, too.”
“But that fact doesn’t change how I feel.”
I blow out a frustrated breath, knowing this was too good to be true. She misses me, but she doesn’t miss me enough to forgive me. So we’re back to square one.
“I better go. I’m sorry for coming here and ruining your day,” she apologizes softly.
I could try and comfort her, refute that she did anything of the sort. But what would be the point? So I simply nod, feeling more disheartened than I felt the day she said goodbye.
She stands staring at me, appearing to want to say something more, but she doesn’t. She pulls the lapels of her coat up toward her chin, indicating she’s leaving. The action untucks her silver necklace from underneath her sweater. The moment my father sees it, he grunts because she’s wearing my mother’s necklace.
When she looks down at her chest, her cheeks flush. She appears embarrassed that she’s been caught out wearing it. She attempts to take it off, but both my father and I lunge forward to stop her. She stops dead in her tracks, appearing just as stunned as I am.
Too many things are happening at once. My exhausted brain can’t keep up with the fact that my father just showed a flicker of emotion, that Maddy is here, and that she’s here confessing to missing me and wearing my mother’s necklace.
“Keep it,” I assert, finally finding my voice. My eyes are focused on my father, who has gone back to being his catatonic self. Thankfully, she doesn’t argue.
She too looks at my father, as we both saw him move faster than we’ve ever seen him move before. “Pino?” she says, walking forward and crouching down in front of him. “Mi senti?”
I still can’t wrap my head around the fact she’s learned Italian. But that can wait because my father slowly raises his eyes and…he fucking nods.
The air whooshes from my lungs. “Papà?” His eyes flick to mine and I swallow hard. “Was he responsive before?” I ask frantically, dropping to a squat beside her.
Maddy shakes her head. “Not really. I didn’t notice anything different. I haven’t for the past couple of weeks.” The moment the words are out, she bites down on her lip.
I pull back, baffled. “Past couple of weeks? This isn’t the first time you’ve visited him?”
She guiltily shakes her head. If I wasn’t in the middle of a major crisis, I would demand answers, but I have other pressing matters to deal with.
“Papà? Sai chi sono?” When I ask if he knows who I am, he fucking nods again.
“Holy shit!” I curse, placing both hands over my gaping mouth. “I need to call a nurse.”
Springing up, I tear up the hill, thankful to see Pat close by. “Pat, my father—”
“What about him?” she asks, giving me her full attention as she places her plate onto the table.
“I think he’s awake, or responsive, or fuck, I don’t know,” I ambiguously explain, while she scrunches up her nose. “Please come. Let me show you.”
She nods and we quickly sprint down the hill, reaching my father’s side in seconds. Madison is still crouched at his feet, but stands when she sees us arrive. Her eyes dart to Pat, who politely pushes past her.
“Pino, it’s Pat. Can you hear me?” she asks, looking down at her watch as she places her fingers over my father’s pulse.
I’m standing off to the side, watching anxiously and hoping that I didn’t imagine that the last two minutes actually happened. As she reaches into her pocket and produces a pen light, she moves the ray of light side to side and gasps when my father’s eyes seem to follow the movement.
“What’s going on?” I ask, diving forward.
She turns around and smiles. “I think your father is showing signs of awareness. This is great news, Dr. Mathews. I’ll have to call the doctor to conf
irm though.”
“Yes, please do.” I can’t stand still, so I begin pacing the grass with both hands atop my head. I listen to Pat put in a call to the doctor, who says he’s on his way. Maddy looks like she wants to comfort me, but she doesn’t. And honestly, I can only deal with one drama at a time.
Pat senses my tension and walks over to me. “He’s going to be just fine, Dr. Mathews.” She places her hand on my forearm and smiles kindly. “He’s in good hands.”
Her reassurance makes me feel better, and without thinking, I place my hand over hers. “Thank you, Pat.” She nods and goes back to checking on my father.
When I turn to look at Maddy, I see that her face is pulled into a tight scowl. I have no idea what’s wrong and as I open my mouth, about to ask if she’s okay, she barks, “I better go.”
“Go?” I ask, frowning. “You don’t have to. The doctor will be here in just a minute.”
She shakes her head. “I’m sure you’ve got all the help you need.” When she glares at Pat, I suddenly understand what’s wrong. She’s jealous.
“Madison,” I chide, not hiding the fact that I know what’s bugging her.
But she doesn’t want to hear it. “I hope your dad is okay. I’ll check in tomorrow.” She rushes off, but I follow in hot pursuit.
“Madison, you’re being ridiculous! There is absolutely nothing going on with Pat and me. She’s my father’s nurse, that’s all,” I whisper, not wanting Pat to overhear. “Please stop.”
Madison does stop, but she spins around angrily. “I wish I could believe you, but I can’t! And I hate that I feel this way. Before all of this happened, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But now, all I can think is do you find her attractive, or have you had sex with her!”
I sigh, pressing a hand to my brow. “I can assure you having sex with anybody right now is the furthest thought from my mind!”
She flinches, taking a step back as I don’t mask my annoyance. After a few seconds, she frowns. “I’m sorry, Dixon. I’ve made this about me, and I shouldn’t have. This is about your father. Go be with him.”
I want to say so many things, but she’s right. This isn’t about her. It isn’t about me either. It’s about my dad. And I won’t allow my selfishness to get in the way of his wellbeing any longer. I don’t want to do this, but I have no other choice.
“I’m sorry you can’t stick around, but you’re right. This is about him. It was nice seeing you, but I think it’s best…if we cut all ties. I can’t keep living in this state of uncertainty any longer. It hurts too much. You can still visit my father. I will just ensure I’m not here when you do.”
Her face drops and she blinks back her tears, but she takes it in her stride and nods. “Okay.”
Every inch of my body is clamoring not to turn around. I shove down my better judgment and take one last look at the love of my life before doing what’s right. The doctor comes rushing down the hill and I follow him, focusing on nothing but my father.
I look on eagerly, observing every single thing that he does. I breathe out a sigh of relief when my father responds with a slight nod or a forced blink to the doctor’s questions. After a couple of minutes, the doctor turns to me and smiles.
“It appears your father has woken up.” I have no idea what that means, but it’s far better than him being asleep.
When my father’s eyes suddenly meet mine, my entire body breaks out into a cold sweat. This is the first time I’ve actually seen him alert, and it scares the living hell out of me.
“Papà?” I say, stepping closer, not knowing what to expect. But he didn’t raise me to be a coward. “Papà? Sono io, tuo figlio.”
He watches me closely, his breathing short and shallow. I walk closer and closer until I am standing inches away. I wait, not knowing what else to do. Just as I’m about to give up hope, he opens his mouth slowly.
“Pino? What is it?” Pat says, leaning in close.
But his eyes never waver from mine as he lets out two breathless gasps of air before uttering, “Fottuto idiota.”
The doctor turns to me, hands raised in confusion. “What did he just say?”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. The first words to come out of my father’s mouth are words I was so not expecting to hear. Either way, I’m just happy he spoke.
Laughing maniacally, I reply, “He just called me…a fucking idiot.”
29
Yin Yang
Five weeks later
DIXON
“Dr. Mathews, I cannot,” admonishes Susanna as I travel down the highway.
“Yes, you can. I give you my permission,” I counter, increasing the volume on my Bluetooth.
“No matter, I simply cannot walk up to Mr. Blackburn and…kick him in the genitals. He’s your patient.” Regardless of the fact he’s my patient, he’s still a major pain in my ass.
I slap my hand on the steering wheel, cackling in humor. “No, I suppose you can’t,” I rejoin, wiping the tears from my eyes. “But it would be a rather hilarious sight, don’t you agree?”
Susanna clucks her tongue at me, but I can sense she’s biting back her smile.
“I’ll be back in Manhattan on Monday afternoon. Please call if I’m needed,” I say, putting my serious face on.
“All will be fine, Dr. Mathews. You just focus on winning that award,” she replies, referring to the Gerald Harriet Award ceremony which is to take place tomorrow night.
“I’ll try my best, but I’m up against some very strong contenders.”
“There is no one better than you,” she says kindly.
I smile, touched by her loyalty.
If it weren’t for Susanna, I dare say I would be unemployed. She saved my ass and my practice after I went into hibernation with no intention of ever resurfacing. But the day my father came out of his hibernation was the day I pulled my shit together and realized that if he can do it, then so can I.
Things with Dad are going well. Although the doctors think he’ll never fully “recover,” he’s so much better than the unresponsive man he was months ago. Our conversations are short, and sometimes we don’t converse at all. But it’s nice to have him listen and to actually acknowledge that I’m there.
I know he misses Madison, as every time he hears a female voice his eyes dart to the door, excitedly awaiting her arrival. But she never appears. He’s not the only one; I miss her so incredibly much it hurts to think her name. But I’ve stuck to my word and no matter how hard it’s been, I haven’t given into temptation and called her. I’ve left her alone—hence my father calling me a fucking idiot.
I really do believe she’s better off without me. Me, on the other hand, I’m still a fucking mess. But I go on. I take each day as it comes because that’s the only way I know how to survive.
Returning to the here and now, I reply to Susanna’s comment. “Thank you, Ms. Vale. You are biased, however.” She chuckles and wishes me good luck before ending the call.
I’m almost in Boston, and I’m glad I left Manhattan early, as I’ve missed the standard horrendous Friday afternoon traffic.
Chad Turner has touched base with me over the course of the week, pretty much hinting at the fact that I’ve won the award. However, he’ll most likely change his tune once he finds out what I have planned. I intend to reveal to my colleagues what a complete and utter fraud I am.
I wasn’t lying when I told Juliet I was going to tell everyone about the sins of my past. Although these past five weeks have been Juliet-free, I’m not an idiot and I know she’ll be back. So, to remove her from my life for good, I need to destroy any leverage she may have over me, i.e. my sordid affair with her and my patients.
I know it won’t be pleasant, but neither is living in fear that Juliet is lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike.
I pull up at the Marriott, leaving my car in the capable hands of the valet as I grab my backpack and garment bag. Once I’m checked in, I round the corner to ride the elevator to my floor. Ho
wever, I’m completely surprised when I bump into Dr. Maxwell Wellington and someone I presume is his lovely wife.
Dr. Wellington is my old college professor. And as chance would have it, he’s Madison’s current college professor. Yeah, screw you irony.
“Dr. Wellington?” I query, as I hadn’t realized he would be in attendance. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Dixon, hello. And I thought I told you to call me Max,” he responds, smiling happily. “I hear congratulations are in order.”
I smirk. “Thank you, although I haven’t won yet. But honestly, to be nominated is an honor in itself.”
“If these judges have any sense, they’ll see you’re the best man for the job.” He winks, while I attempt to hide my shame as I wish that were true.
There is a short silence before Max introduces the stunning woman by his side. “Dixon, this is my beautiful, angelic wife, Aiko.”
“Always the charmer,” Aiko teases playfully while shaking my hand.
It’s more than obvious that these two are still so very much in love with one another. I remember Max revealing in his inspirational speech at the Gerald Harriet Fellowship Award night that they were married for fifty years, which is quite an accomplishment in this day and age. Their devotion has me instantly yearning for Madison, and it must show on my face.
“Will Ms. Roberts be joining you this weekend?” Max asks, none the wiser to my fuck-up.
“No, sadly Madison and I broke up,” I reveal, unable to hide my regret.
Max’s mouth dips into a frown. “I’m sorry to hear that. You two were quite fetching together. She appeared to be the yin to your yang.”
“Thank you, Max. And yes, she was.” All talk of Madison has me desperate to venture upstairs to drown my sorrows in scotch and baseball. “I’d best unpack. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re not attending the cocktail party?” Max asks, and I shake my head. “The guest of honor not attending his own party? Whatever will the big wheels say?”
