All of You

by Lindsay Detwiler

  These are the girls of my past.

  But there was always something missing, I remind myself. There was always something in the back of my mind that said there was more to life, there was more to love than those innocent pecks on the cheek, those careful lovemaking sessions never talked about later, those perfect girls with it all together. In truth, medical school was the perfect excuse to leave it behind, to stop trying, and to give up on the L-word I’d come to avoid.

  But, deep down, there was always a part of me wondering if the girl who could unlock my heart was out there. All along, there was something missing with the kale girls. I just hadn’t known what. Looking at Marley, though, as she stands before me in front of Georgia’s, her sunshine-yellow sundress pulling my gaze toward her, there’s just something different. She doesn’t seem like the “perfect pearls, sip a hot tea, careful strolls in the park” kind of girl.

  She seems like hell on wheels, her black Converse sneakers and bold vintage necklace contrasting starkly with her feminine, curvy dress. And of course, the hat’s on her head.

  She’s dressed in ways most women her age wouldn’t dream of, but on her, it looks comfy. She looks right.

  “So you ready for an adventure? You ready to see what this town has to offer?” she asks, those eyes gleaming at me.

  “Let’s do it,” I say, excited for the first time since coming here about what this town could hold for me.

  ***

  “So this is what you call fun?” I ask, panting from the uphill climb. I’m not in terrible shape, although med school hasn’t allowed much time for lifting weights or hitting the gym. But this is taking everything out of me.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Plus, the view at the top is worth it,” Marley responds, ahead of me by a few steps, goading me on like I’m some sad pony who needs reassurance.

  As I look up at the rest of the hill, I wish to God I had a small pony to pull myself the rest of the way up. I remind myself to play it cool, trying to suppress my huffy breaths and hide the fact my forehead is beading with sweat.

  Marley is breathing heavy too, shoving her black hair from her eyes. We plod on, me wondering why the hell I sacrificed my day off to go get sweaty and exhausted.

  But looking at the woman in front of me, the dress now sticking to her from sweat, I don’t wonder long.

  Dammit, she’s gorgeous.

  “You’re not staring at my ass, are you, Doctor?” she says, turning to grin at me. I can’t help but notice she sashays just a little bit as she speaks, as if she knows that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.

  Not wanting to come off as a creep, I just shake my head, pointing to myself. “Me? Of course not. Just making sure you have good posture so you don’t pull a muscle or something.”

  “I think if anyone’s pulling a muscle, it’s you. Come on, isn’t a doctor supposed to be in good shape?”

  “You sure have a lot of stereotypes, huh?”

  Marley shrugs. “Well, I’ve never really gone hiking with a doctor before, so this is new to me.”

  “And I’ve never gone on a hellish hike like this. Remind me next time, I’ll make the plans.”

  “Not a chance. I’m the tour guide, remember?” she responds, giving me a coy wink before turning around. “Now stop complaining. We’re almost there.”

  I take some breaths for motivation and trudge upward, reminding myself I can handle it.

  When we get to the top, I keel over on a rock to catch my breath. Marley, though, doesn’t waste a second. “Come on, take a look. Rosewood in all its glory.”

  Marley grabs my hand, and I feel a rush. Her warm skin is so soft to the touch, and I can’t help but notice my hand fits perfectly around hers.

  Her excitement is contagious. She acts like she’s never seen this place before. She pulls me to the edge of a treacherous precipice, and I look down.

  The sleepy town of Rosewood doesn’t look so sleepy up here. It looks soothing and inviting. It looks right.

  “Beautiful, huh?” she asks.

  “Beautiful,” I say, but I’m not looking at Rosewood anymore. I’m gazing at those pink lips that seem to be inviting me in. I’m staring at the perfect curve of her neck, the pale skin accentuating the innocence of it.

  I need to get a grip. I’m never like this. Sure, I notice a hot girl when I see her. But this is ridiculous. I’m acting like I’ve never seen a woman before.

  Still, her hand is clutching mine, and it’s like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Marley leans in on my arm.

  “What’s it like? California, I mean?” she asks, and I look down at her, the top of her hat underneath my chin.

  “Busy. Hectic. But fun. You’ve never been?”

  She just gives a little laugh. “Are you kidding? I’ve never been out of this state, let alone to California.”

  “Are you serious?” I question, sure she must be kidding.

  “Nope. It was a complicated thing growing up.” I can tell by the tone of her voice this is too much to talk about just yet. The girl who seems open to everything is definitely not open to this.

  “So are you planning on getting out of here eventually? Traveling? You seem like the type of woman who would have a touch of wanderlust.”

  “Do I have that look about me?”

  I shrug. “It was just a hunch. You have that quality about you.”

  “And what quality is that?” she probes, regarding me with a smile. I can tell I got at least a part of her right on the dot.

  I think for a long moment, not quite sure myself. Finally, I settle on one word. “Free.”

  Again, she just sort of chuckles, shaking her head. “Hardly. But thank you. I’ll take it as a compliment. And to answer your question, not really any plans. Life’s just sort of got me stuck right now. Have I thought about it? You bet. But thinking about it and doing it are very different things, you know?”

  I nod. “It can be scary. Moving here from the West Coast wasn’t exactly what I had planned. But sometimes scary can be good.”

  “So you’re happy here?”

  “I mean, it’s only been a few weeks, but yeah. It seems like a nice place.”

  “It is. Small and a little lame. But it’s nice. There are good people here,” she adds, leaning on my shoulder.

  It should be awkward, standing here alone with a girl I barely know. But it isn’t. There’s something about Marley that is just so easy. All the high-maintenance, don’t say the wrong thing kind of relationships I’ve had in the past seem so foreign compared to this, just the two of us standing here, taking in the quiet scene and talking about dreams.

  I breathe in, realizing this is just what I needed. Fresh air, quiet, and companionship—easy, straightforward companionship.

  In the midst of my silent meditation, something splatters on my face.

  I think I’m imagining it, hallucinations from lack of sleep finally kicking in. But then there’s another. And another.

  I turn to look at Marley just in time for the rain to start falling steadily, the clouds overhead finally giving way.

  The rain quickly turns to a downpour. I put my arms up to shield myself, as if this is going to work.

  “Shit. We should get going,” I say, turning to head down the trail, expecting Marley to shriek and cover her head, too.

  Instead, she just laughs. “Why? Are you the Wicked Witch or something? Are you going to melt?”

  She lets go of my hand and stretches her arms out, her face raised to the sky as she smiles, breathing in, laughing a little. “It feels so good.”

  I stare at her, this mysterious girl in a sunshine-yellow dress acting as if the deluge of rain is a religious rite.

  “I take it you like rain?” I ask, my clothes becoming heavy with the soaking downpour.

  “Yeah, don’t you?” she questions, turning to me as her smile widens. “The only thing better is lightning. I love a good storm. Is that strange?”

  I think about it. Yeah, probably. “
No,” I lie.

  “You’re lying. You think it’s weird,” she says, still laughing, her dress now soaked through, her hair sticking to her face.

  “Okay, it’s a little weird.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a little rain. There are worse things in life.”

  “This is true,” I agree, still feeling like we should be running for cover, but following Marley’s lead and just letting myself get soaked.

  “So, Doctor, you ready for our next adventure?” she shouts over the rain.

  I grin. “There’s more?”

  “I told you I was showing you the town highlights. We might be a small town, but we’ve got more than a hiking trail. From the looks of your car the other night, you’re not one of those health nut, kale salad kinds of guy, are you?”

  I smile as she looks up at me, one hand on her hip now.

  “I mean, I don’t have anything against kale.” Other than the fact all my exes loved kale and I found it annoying. And disgusting.

  “Do you have anything against greasy food with millions of calories that will clog your arteries?”

  “Is this a trick question? Are you spying for Dr. Conlan?”

  She raises an eyebrow at me. “You never know. But if he were going to hire a spy, he’d probably do a better job. I’m terrible at keeping secrets.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. But no, I don’t have anything against artery-clogging foods, at least on my day off.” It was the truth. In reality, the food in my fridge right now is damn embarrassing—beer, lunch meat, and some ketchup. That’s about it. Bachelor life is heightened by doctor life, not lending itself to a very healthy meal-making situation at home.

  “Good. Let’s go, then. I’m going to show you one of the best secrets in Rosewood that only the true locals know about.”

  I take one last glance at the town I now call home before Marley pulls me down the trail. “Come on, the day’s fading away. We have places to go, things to see.”

  The girl in the sunshine-yellow dress pulls me forward, and I can’t help but follow.

  ***

  By the time we get to the bottom of the hike, our feet sloshing in mud on the way down and our clothes drenched, the sun peeks out of the clouds again. I wring out my shirt at the bottom and shake out the water from my hair.

  Marley wrings out her dress, and I try not to stare as a sliver of her thigh creeps out.

  “That was fun,” she says, laughing as she runs a hand through the ends of her hair.

  She leads me back to the main part of the park we were in, out the front entrance, and a few blocks toward the center of town.

  “Do you want to go change before we go wherever we’re going?” I ask. We look like two scraggly, lost people.

  “Nah, it’s fine,” she assures me, waving a hand. “Moe won’t care.”

  “Who’s Moe?”

  “Just the best damn chef in town.”

  “The million-calorie food man?” I question.

  “And then some,” she replies, leading me forward.

  We wander down the street, the silence between us hardly awkward. Marley says hi to a few people working in storefronts or passing by. We finally get to our apparent location—a tiny corner restaurant with a broken-down sign. The door’s green paint is peeling off in huge strips, and the windows are murky and hazy. It doesn’t look like a place I’d ever venture into back home.

  Marley bounces through the door, waving to an elderly man behind the counter.

  “Moe, we’ll take two of the house specials. Dr. Evans here is new.”

  “Did you say doctor?” Moe says, smiling. “I don’t know if my cheesesteaks are doctor-approved.”

  “He’s off duty today so he won’t judge your calorie count,” Marley adds, leading me to a corner booth. There are a few other couples sitting in the booths and a few elderly guys chatting at the table.

  But that’s it. It’s just Moe, a grill behind him, and a cash register.

  “Doesn’t Moe have any staff?” I whisper, leaning into Marley.

  Marley smiles. “Moe’s wife died five years ago. She was his waitress. He refuses to get any help. Says no one can replace Dorothy. Says he doesn’t want anyone to try. So he just runs the place by himself now. The cook, the waiter, and the cashier. Food takes a bit to get, but it’s worth it. Trust me.”

  “I’m in no hurry,” I state, staring straight at her.

  “Good. But we do have a few more places to see.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, we’ve got our own roller skating rink, believe it or not. We’ve also got the lucky statue of Mr. Rosewood, the founder of the town. Legend says if you get a selfie with the statue, you have a year of good luck.”

  “Really?”

  “No. I just made that up,” she replies, laughing.

  I shake my head. “So tell me more about you.”

  She shrugs, playing with a sugar packet on the table. “What do you want to know?”

  “Anything. Everything.”

  “Not much to tell. I’ve lived here my whole life and never left.”

  “Do you have a big family?”

  She shakes her head. “Just me and Mom.”

  I notice she bites her lip afterward, as if needing to silence herself. She doesn’t go on and say anything else about her mom or her family. I sense it’s a tense topic, and from what Dr. Conlan said about a rough hand, I take it maybe Marley’s family situation isn’t the best. I decide not to bring the mood down, and apparently, she does the same, turning the conversation to me.

  “How about you? Family of doctors?”

  “Yep. Dad was a doctor. Surgeon, actually. Mom’s an OBGYN. I’ve also got a brother, Greg, but he’s abandoned the family trade. He’s in the army.”

  “Did your dad give up the surgeon gig?” she asks hesitantly.

  I play with a straw paper on the table. “Sort of. He was in a terrible accident a few years back. Lost feeling in his right hand, so his surgery days are over. He still does some instructing and mentoring at the hospital, but it hasn’t been the same.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah, it’s been tough. But he’s been so happy I’m following in his footsteps. I guess he feels like he can live vicariously and all that.”

  “They must be proud of you.” She seems to weigh my expression, studying me carefully.

  “Yeah. This is what Dad always wanted for me.”

  “So, are you planning on moving back to California once you’re done here?”

  “That’s the plan. Mom and Dad own a lot of land and set aside some for me. I’m planning to build a house once I’m done here, and get a job at the hospital my dad worked in. Dad’s already practically got my name up on the wall there. He wanted to get me into the program there, but it didn’t work out. Residency can be competitive. I put down Rosewood on a whim because a friend of mine did. Didn’t think I’d end up here, but it’s not so bad. Dad is already working on getting me into the hospital back home. It’s just a given I’ll go back.”

  She studies me as if she wants to prod me further. She opens her mouth to ask something but stops. She’s probably worried it’s too awkward for a first… well, whatever this is.

  She clarifies, “All set in stone, huh? You know where you’re going.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” I ask, not sure what she’s thinking. Not sure how to read a girl like her.

  “I don’t think so. Hell, I’m the opposite and look where that got me.” She readjusts her hat before turning and glancing out the hazy windows at the sidewalk.

  “You seem like you have it together. You have to do what’s right for you.”

  She turns back to me, her gaze fixed on me. “Yeah, I guess. But if you don’t have a plan, it makes it a little tougher to figure that all out.”

  “So, what do you really want to do?” I ask, really wanting to know.

  She shrugs. “Get out of here. Travel. See somewhere else. Do something to inspire
my writing. I love writing, but I feel like I haven’t even seen the world. How can I really capture life?”

  “Seems like you’ve seen a lot of life right here.”

  “I’ve tried to make the best of it. But it feels like I’m standing still sometimes, like I haven’t really seen anything, you know?”

  “So why don’t you get out of here? Go travel. Live the life you want,” I urge, meaning it, studying this girl who has wild eyes.

  “I don’t know. It’s not so simple, I guess.” She fidgets with a packet of sugar now, as if this is dredging up some rough thoughts. I stare at her, trying to figure out the girl across from me, but a piece of me knows it won’t be that simple.

  “I think it’s as simple as doing what you want. Life is simple if you follow what your heart wants.” It’s something my mom’s always said. It seems like the right thing to say, but once it’s out, it feels completely wrong.

  Marley tears the corner of the sugar packet, some granules falling to the table. She sweeps them around, swirling them in patterns mindlessly before she looks up at me, a weak smile on her face. “Life’s never simple, Alex. I might not have lived much of life yet, but I’ve lived enough to know that.”

  Looking at her, I see some pain written on her face. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Something about Marley isn’t quite whole. Something’s left her a little broken. I don’t know what it is.

  In truth, I don’t know a lot about being broken. My life hasn’t been perfect—but damn close. Good childhood memories filled with apple pie, board game nights, parents in the sporting event stands cheering for me, and birthday parties every year. A supportive yet stern set of parents who expected me home by curfew and demanded perfect grades. A family who could afford to send me to college, and who encouraged me to do so. Parents who supported my med school dreams, leaving me with few loans compared to my colleagues. In truth, I’ve had it pretty easy.

  Not that I haven’t worked. I have. I’ve said no to plenty of nights out, to plenty of dates, to plenty of get-wasted kind of scenarios. I’ve spent years with my head in the books, my only company a cup of coffee. I’ve spent years in the library. I’ve been lonely.