Shock - Marie Johnston Page 0,71

20

Ford

My new apartment is filled with my old things. Until my house sells, I’m on a tight budget. Mom comes out of the bathroom, where she stocked my towels and washcloths. I didn’t ask her to help, but she insisted. I asked her to keep Karoline and Ryan out of it. They’ve been nothing but supportive and have been great resources for finding me lawyers to contact, even offering up the retainer, but for the actual move, I wanted to come and lick my wounds on my own.

She brushes her hands and looks around my new home. “That’s about all. When do you start work?”

“Next Monday.” I’ll be working at Melville-Level 1 Trauma Center. Unironically, it’s the same hospital Cass is an administrator at.

“That’ll be exciting.”

“It’ll be something.” I have zero interest in meeting my new partner. Whether I’m stuck with the same person for each shift or rotate, I don’t care.

“I’m sure you realize that it’s that time of year.”

“November?”

“It’s not too late to apply for residencies. You’re in Melville, where there’s actually spots.”

I frown and stare at the swirls in my boring ceramic tile floors. I haven’t thought of residency for weeks. Not since Lia last mentioned it.

Mostly, I just think about Lia. Between her and fighting for custody, I have no other thoughts. They’ve taken over my brain.

“It’s over, Mom.”

“Actually, I think it’s time to start.” She approaches me like she’s cornering a tiger. She cups my face like she used to do when I was a kid. “You’ve done so much for others, think about yourself. Think about what you want.”

“What I want is in Sunnyville.” I can’t believe I’ve confessed that. “But it’s also here and I can’t be in two places at once.”

“Perhaps once you do what you really want to do in life, what you’re called to do, the two things will have a way of joining together.”

“Life doesn’t work that way.”

She lets me go and lifts a shoulder. “Then think about what you’d want your life to mean if you don’t win the custody battle.” She turns away, leaving me reeling from one simple question. “I’d better hit the road so I can get back before dark. Love you, hon.”

“Love you,” I mumble.

What do I want my life to mean? For so long, it was about being better than my birth father and stepfather. Then it was about being a better dad than each of them. But both of them are out of my life. I’m fighting to keep Jayden in it, but while I’m doing that, then what?

I wanted to be a pediatrician. I spent my youth working with kids so I’d have the rapport, so I could build such a good reputation that I’d get headhunted for somewhere like Johns Hopkins and prove to Nathaniel that I was better than him.

I became an EMT to get medical experience and make my medical school application more impressive. I became a paramedic to make a living.

I do more than that. I make a difference. Working at Melville-Level 1 Trauma Center will allow me to do that. But it doesn’t call to me. Not like the speed of being in the field, making the decisions.

I can’t deny the emptiness inside when I hand off a case to someone with the initials MD or DO behind their name.

I roam my apartment, my mind whirling. Am I just grateful to have something else to think of other than how Lia’s doing and how I’m going to afford a lawyer?

I spot the bag with my laptop and stop. Me and it have a face-off.

Shit. I swoop it up and dig the computer out. What can it hurt to look?

Lia

My mom stops at the table where my pile of books is sitting. She runs her hand along one and opens the front flap.

“ALS?”

“Advanced life support,” I answer.

She pages through it. “This is some heavy stuff.”

I love learning it. It keeps me occupied. Between school and work, I only think about Ford every other second.

The new year has come and gone and I’ve heard nothing about him. Mitch looks at me like he wants to tell me but I don’t ask.

A guy like him has moved on already. I don’t need to hear it out loud. Hopefully he finds someone he can trust enough to start a relationship with.

Hopefully his partner is a dude.

I can’t help petty thoughts. I can’t help but hope he’s as lonely and forlorn as I am. I should be a better person but