by Nikki Chase
“I’m, uh, at a… friend’s place.” I curse myself as soon as the words come out of my mouth. Why am I such a bad liar?
“A male friend?”
Damn it. I should’ve known that answer would just lead to more questions.
“Uh… no,” I say. “It’s Karen’s apartment. You’ve met Karen.”
“Oh, I have. She’s a lovely girl,” Mom says.
I can almost hear the grin in her voice. Mom’s mood can swing wildly from one extreme to another. It’s great when she’s suddenly happy, but it goes the other way too sometimes.
“I should’ve told you this earlier, Mom, but I’m looking at apartments downtown. I’m thinking about renting a small one-bedroom for myself. I’ve been sleeping at Karen’s because it’s close to the places I want and the showings are really early.”
I have to resist the urge to pat myself on the back for this lie. I’ve been thinking about how to tell Mom I’m moving out, so I already have a short script in my head of what I want to say.
“Oh.” She sounds disappointed. “You’re moving out?”
“Yeah. I’ll miss you, of course, but all my colleagues are living on their own and I think it’s time for me too.”
“This is what Ray said was going to happen,” Mom says.
My heart starts to race. “What did Ray say?”
Mom has a problem determining what’s important so she has messed-up life priorities. It sometimes shows up during conversations, too. She’d spend half an hour chatting about what she had for lunch and only tell me at the end that someone from the hospital called the home phone and left me an urgent message.
“He said you’d found a boyfriend, and you weren’t going to come home anymore,” Mom says.
Okay, that is bad.
But maybe he only said that because I hadn’t come home for so long and he wanted Mom to stop nagging him to find me.
“When did he say that?”
“This morning. He said he saw your boyfriend at the hospital.”
Shit.
“What else did he say?”
“He said you were trying to hide your boyfriend from us. But you’ll introduce us, won’t you, honey?” Mom asks.
“I don’t have a boyfriend, Mom. Ray was lying to you.”
“He also said you’d say that.”
Damn it.
“What else did he say?” I ask.
“Oh, I don’t remember, honey. I’d ask him, but he’s not home.”
I pull the phone away from my ear for a second to check the time on the screen. We haven’t hung the clocks we bought yet, so we've been relying on our phones to tell the time.
It’s about noon. Ray’s usually still snoring in his bed. What’s he doing out so early?
“Where is he?” I ask as anxiety grows in my chest.
“He said he was going to see you.” Mom’s tone is casual, but her words chill me to the bone. “Oh, you should call him, honey, and tell him you’re at your friend’s place. I think he was going to the hospital.”
Gabriel
“I’m told you’ve been making yourself at home,” Dad says sternly from behind his big wooden desk.
I stand in the doorway to his office, my hand on the doorknob. “Dad, I’d love to chat, but I’m supposed to be here for an emergency. Dr. Grant told me to ask you where to go.”
I'm always rushing anyway because it's often a matter of life and death. But today I'm anxious to get my work done and go home because Jacqueline obviously needs me. The way she looked at me while I was driving away… It almost made me turn around and come home to her. But someone’s life could depend on me.
“This is exactly where you're supposed to be. Come in,” Dad says. “Close the door.”
I frown. It's not that we don't talk, but Dad has never taken me away from my work for a mere chat.
“What is it?” I ask as I take my seat across the desk from him.
Dad has put a lot of thought into how he wants to be perceived by his staff of smart, ambitious, hard-working medical professionals. He works out to stay in shape, he dresses sharp, and he always looks like he’s in control.
But he looks a lot older than he did when I left. It's only natural, of course. People age, and I was gone for a long time. Still, there are moments it surprises me to see him as an old man.
“I was happy to hear that you got yourself an apartment, so I didn’t say anything about your girlfriend,” he says.
I frown. “I thought there was no rule against dating co-workers in this hospital.”
“Sure, that’s not a problem, as long as you’re not dating a patient.”
“Okay.” I lean back in my chair. Maybe I’m not about to get some bad news after all. “So everything’s okay?”
“No,” he says.
I cross my arms over my chest. “What is it?”
“Don’t sound so alarmed. I’ve taken care of everything. I have the perfect solution.”
Don’t sound so alarmed, he says, while behaving in an exceedingly alarming fashion.
I remember the last time he said something like that. I ended up on a plane to Africa.
“Just tell me what it is, Dad.”
“Let’s start from the beginning. There’s no need to rush. Like I said, everything has been taken care of.” Dad leans all the way back, places his elbows on the armrests of his big leather chair, and gives me a confident smile. “You’ve been here for a month. You must’ve received some pay. I think you can agree that, even though the HMOs are making it harder and harder to make any real money, the money is much better here.”
“Compared to Africa?” I narrow my eyes at him. “Of course. I didn’t have to fly here and actually work here to know that.”
“Yes, but it’s different when you experience it yourself. So, you’re staying, right?”
“Yes,” I answer impatiently, although the money is not the reason I’m staying.
Dad stares blankly at the bookshelves behind me and lets out a sigh. “I remember when your friend died and his family blamed you. I sent you away to join the Peace Corps and lay low for a while, but you ended up choosing to stay there for eight years.”
“It’s not that bad over there, Dad. Some people do live there. Can you just tell me what’s going on?”
“I’m getting to it.” His wrinkles seem to have grown deeper. “I don’t want you to leave again. I’m an old man. I want my only child with me when I die.”
“I told you I’m staying. Can we stop the guilt trip and just get to the point?” I raise my voice in exasperation. I don’t have time for this. Jacqueline’s waiting for me. She needs me.
Sadness clouds his eyes—the same green eyes that I have. He says, “I don’t want to do this, but I have no choice.”
“What are you talking about?” I clench my hands into tight fists.
He said the same thing eight years ago. That line means he has made a decision that he knows he has no right to make.
“That girl. Your girlfriend. You can’t see her anymore,” he says.
I almost burst out laughing. What is this? Seventh grade? I knew I’d have to adjust to being around my parents, but I never imagined this level of intrusion into my personal life.
“Dad, you just said yourself I can date co-workers. You may not like her, but you can’t tell me who to date. If you want me to stay, you’re going to have to let me live my own life.”
“It’s not about her working here. You know that.” Dad furrows his brows in displeasure.
“I can’t just magically know the things you don’t tell me.”
“I know everything. Don’t try to hide it from me,” he insists, his voice growing louder.
I press my lips together. I know I can’t take back what I say, so I’ve trained myself to be quiet during conflicts so I can process things in my mind.
Could he be talking about the same thing Jacqueline wanted to tell me this morning?
And the timing… I’ve been seeing Jacqueli
ne for weeks, and suddenly both my dad and she have things to reveal to me on the same day? It seems like too much of a coincidence.
Dad must’ve figured out something about Jacqueline—probably the same thing she wants to tell me. Judging by how strangely they’re both acting, it’s something serious. And they both believe it means Jacqueline and I can’t be together.
Somehow it has something to do with Sam, too.
And me leaving.
No way.
My heart jumps into my mouth.
But on some level, I’ve always had this feeling...
Fixing my gaze on Dad, I ask, “Is this about her being Sam’s sister?”
Jacqueline
“Did Dr. Crenshaw say why Dr. Kent wants to see me?” I grip the straps of my shoulder bag a little too hard and I give Karen a tense smile.
“No, but I’m sure it’s nothing. You have nothing to worry about. You’ve been doing good work.” Karen grins and wiggles her eyebrows. “Maybe he wants to talk about the other kind of work… You know, the kind that you’ve been doing with his son.”
Shit.
Gabe’s dad is a scary man. I’ve always been afraid of him, even back when I was just a toddler, tagging along after Sam and Gabe.
He was also the one who sent Gabe away after Sam’s suicide.
Oh, God. How am I supposed to face him? He must hate my guts. He probably thinks I’m some gold digger who’s after his money. I can’t blame him, though, after what my family has done.
“Is something wrong, Jacqueline?” Karen asks in a concerned voice. “You’re pale as a sheet.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just nervous about seeing Dr. Kent,” I lie.
“I know meeting the parents can be nerve-racking. But you’ll be fine. You’re smart and you’re pretty. Gabriel Kent can do a lot worse than you.”
I bet his dad would disagree, assuming he knows who I am—which he probably does.
“Karen, I…” My sentence hangs in the air as a battle rages in my chest.
I’ve been keeping everything bottled up inside for too long. I can’t talk to my family. I can’t talk to Gabe. I’m at my boiling point.
So even though I couldn’t say anything in front of Gabe this morning and the Chief of Medicine is waiting for me, I know this is my last chance to get some counsel.
I want—no, I need—to tell someone what’s going on.
“Karen, can we talk for a few minutes?” I ask. We’re in the middle of a busy work day.
“Of course,” she says.
I look around me. We’re standing in a hallway and there are people all around us, but they seem to be preoccupied with their own stuff.
I take a small step closer to Karen and lower my voice. “There’s something I’ve been hiding from Gabriel. I think Dr. Kent knows my secret.”
“What is it?” Karen asks, her voice small to match mine.
I begin my story. “I had a brother. He died eight years ago…”
Karen’s eyes grow with shock and worry as I tell her all about Sam’s friendship with Gabe and his suicide. Somehow, I manage to condense it into a minute or two.
“My family—well, my dad and my brother—they blame Gabe for Sam’s suicide,” I say. “They think he should’ve seen it coming because they’re roommates and they see each other all the time.”
“But he couldn’t have known—”
“Yeah.” I say, cutting Karen off. “If Gabe’s guilty, then I am, too. Because I saw Sam probably as much as he did. Toward the end, he didn’t leave his bedroom much.”
“Maybe they blame him because he gave your brother the gun.”
“They do,” I say. “But they also know that Sam had all the paperwork and he could’ve gone out to buy one himself.”
“I guess it’s hard to think rationally when you’re grieving,” Karen says.
“Yeah. They didn’t even try, though. They just went after Gabe and that’s why Dr. Kent sent him to Africa.”
“Oh, wow. That’s… I don’t know. You’ve just told me a lot of shocking things, but somehow this last bit of information is the one that really gets to me.”
“Please don’t let this get out,” I say, realizing my secret could spread like wildfire throughout the hospital. It’s a little too shocking not to make the rounds. But I trust Karen—she’s never been one of those girls who huddle around to share the latest gossip.
“Of course not. I won’t tell a soul,” she says. “Now, I know facing Dr. Kent will be difficult, and I hate to tell you this, but you don’t have any choice. You have to do it. You know you do. You could lose your job otherwise. That doesn’t seem fair, but your boyfriend’s dad also happens to be your boss so you can’t just not show up.”
“I know,” I say softly. With a wry laugh, I add, “I don’t know if he’s still my boyfriend, though. Maybe his dad has already told him.”
“You don’t even know for sure if Dr. Kent knows,” Karen reminds me. “So maybe things are not as bad as you think.”
“You’re right. But I have a bad feeling about this”
“Listen.” Karen puts her hands on my shoulders and stare into my eyes. “I’ve listened to your story and I think you’ve done nothing wrong.”
“But I should’ve told—”
“You should’ve told Gabriel who you are from the beginning. Yes,” Karen says. “But it’s not… I don’t know. I’d forgive you if I were him.”
“But you’re not,” I say.
“I’m definitely not.”
“I’m scared he’ll think that I’m deliberately deceiving him, that I’m working with my family to get more money out of his dad.”
“You’re going to have to talk to him to find out what he thinks. There's no use stressing yourself out, guessing how he’ll feel about it. I honestly think he’ll be okay with it. But first, you need to see Dr. Kent.”
“Yeah.”
“I know it’s scary, but it’s only one meeting, and then it’ll be over. You’ll be able to stop torturing yourself.”
“Yeah.”
The time for stalling is over. I need to grow a pair and see Dr. Kent.
“Thanks, Karen.”
“Any time.” She gives me an encouraging smile. “Good luck.”
As I navigate the busy hallways of the hospital, dodging stretchers and distraught relatives of sick patients, I think about how to face Dr. Kent.
I’m not my family. I know you probably won’t believe me, but I’m not after your money.
I love your son, Dr. Kent.
Gabriel was Sam’s friend? I had no idea.
I can’t decide which strategy to use, and I’m already in front of Dr. Kent’s office. I take a few deep breaths and steel myself as I knock on the door.
“Come in,” says Dr. Kent from inside the office.
With my heart pounding, I turn the doorknob and push open the door.
Inside, there’s a man already sitting across the desk from Dr. Kent. I can only see his thick, messy, dark-chestnut hair and his broad shoulders.
But there’s no mistaking him. It’s Gabe.
Which can only mean one thing. Dr. Kent wants to talk to us about our relationship.
And he probably knows who I am. Otherwise, he’d invite me to a nice, home-cooked dinner prepared by his wife. Mrs. Kent used to spoil Sam and me with her delicious baked goods.
“Please take a seat, Miss Summers.” Dr. Kent gestures at the empty chair beside Gabe’s. “Or should I call you Miss Nolan?”
My blood runs cold.
That’s my father’s last name.
He knows who I am.
Without saying a word, I pull out the chair and sit down. I cast my gaze down. I can’t bring myself to meet anyone’s eyes. They’ve caught me as the liar I am.
“Judging from your silence, I suppose you regret your actions so far?” Dr. Kent asks.
I regulate my breathing to appear more steady, even though every cell in my body is screaming at me to run away from t
his scary-ass man. I say, “Not at all.”
I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I can’t let this go without one last fight. I can’t keep letting other people dictate what happens in my own life.
“You’ve caused a lot of trouble for us. Your brother came here this morning, accusing me and my son of deplorable things.” Dr. Kent’s face contorts in disgust. “He said we were taking advantage of you.”
“That’s not true,” I answer with conviction. My brother doesn’t get to tell me how to live my life.
“Be that as it may, he could make it appear like we have sinister motives against your family. This is not the first time he’s threatened us,” he says, alluding to what happened eight years ago.
“What did he say?” I ask.
“He said he was going to contact the media with the story. It was going to end up on trashy magazines. Something like that can really hurt a physician’s reputation, Miss Nolan. I’m sure you know that.”
I cast a glance at Gabe, who’s sitting silently beside me. Angry thoughts swirl like a violent vortex in my mind.
Does he have nothing to say? Does his dad speak for him? Isn’t he going to fight for me? Has he forgotten what he said about sticking by my side?
“Your brother wanted Gabriel to leave the country again,” Dr. Kent continues.
“I don’t care what my brother says. If the story gets out, I’ll deny everything. I’ll make sure they know Gabe’s innocent.”
“Unfortunately, Miss Nolan, you can’t tell people what to think. I’m not a media expert, but this hospital has had its share of PR disasters, and I have a good idea of how these stories evolve. If you come up with your own statement, you’d probably just make it an even bigger story.” Dr. Kent gives me a condescending look and raises his eyebrows. “Maybe that’s what you want, huh? You want to be famous?”
“No.” Stunned, I can’t even come up with a good defense against that ridiculous accusation.
I take another quick look at Gabe. He’s still sitting there quietly, looking straight at his dad.
Maybe I’m wrong about him. Maybe he’s nothing but a wimp who’d do anything for his dad’s approval.
