44
XAVIER
W E SPENT ALMOST her whole visit in the hospital. I got out Monday. On Tuesday she went back to California and I went back to work. I wasn’t ready. I was still weak, but my fever was gone and the antibiotics had finally kicked in and I couldn’t bring myself to go home. She wouldn’t be there. There would only be the thing that she left in her absence instead. The void. And I had no intention of spending time with it.
I dropped Samantha off at the airport, then dragged myself to the clinic.
When I walked in, I stood there in the doorway unnoticed for a moment. Temporarily invisible. It felt like a scene out of an alternate universe. My practice. My staff. Even my dog who had been staying with Maggie while I was too sick to take care of him—but a different doctor. Hank was in his scrubs and lab coat, shuffling out of an exam room with my tablet in his hand.
It felt like I was looking at myself fifty years into the future. No wife. Just a lonely old man, still walking the halls of this place that I’d begun to resent.
Hank didn’t resent it. It was salvation for him. For me it felt like a life sentence. I loved this place and I hated it in equal measure.
Jake from State Farm spotted me first and bounded over to greet me.
“Oh, well hello there,” Hank said, looking up. “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”
“I wanted to give you a break,” I said, crouching to pet my dog.
He waved me off. “Eh, I’m fine. Getting my second wind actually. I think the extra days did me some good, greased up the old joints.”
I nodded. I was glad he wasn’t burning out at least. I didn’t know what I would have done without him these last few months.
Hank was a phenomenal doctor. The feedback from patients was all positive, Maggie and Tina were happy—I got to spend time in the hospital without worrying about the practice.
But more than that, he seemed to be a genuinely good man. And in my opinion most people weren’t.
It occurred to me that Hank was here for the same reason I was today. To escape what wasn’t at home. I was glad this place could be that for him. That he was getting as much out of this arrangement as I was.
He nodded over his shoulder. “Join me for lunch? You caught me between patients. The ladies made lasagna.”
“We used the Italian sausage you like, Dr. Rush,” Tina said, leaning over the front desk. “We were going to bring some over after work.”
“Thanks,” I said. “And yes, I’ll join you.” He gave me a pleased smile and I followed him to the back.
“I was glad to hear you were out of the hospital,” he said, washing his hands.
“Yeah. I’m doing much better.”
“Good. Don’t be in a hurry to come back. I can do a few more days.” He took a seat at the break table where there was a foil covered pan on a warming tray.
“I don’t want you to be sore,” I said, heading to the fridge. “Drink?”
“Anything without caffeine.”
I grabbed Sprites. Hank had served himself and was taking a bite of the lasagna when I came back and sat.
“Mmmmm, delicious,” he said, closing his eyes. “I think I wouldn’t even be eating if it wasn’t for this job.”
I scoffed. “Same.”
“I never was much of a cook,” he said, cutting the pasta with the side of his fork. “And even if I was, don’t think I could bring myself to be in the kitchen or sit at the table. The house is too empty. Feels like a void there.”
“I get that too,” I said.
I served myself a small piece. My appetite was low. Either from residual illness or the depression that I felt creeping in now that she was gone.
I sat there, poking at my food. I could feel Hank watching me.
“Can I ask, what all is going on with you?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I just got sick.”
He harrumphed. “I think you got heartsick is what you got.”
“Ha.” He was probably right.
“Why doesn’t she move here?” he asked. “That girlfriend you’ve got.”
“She can’t. She’s the primary caregiver for her mom.”
“Can her mom move with her?”
I shook my head. “No. Definitely not.”
“Hmmm. And why don’t you move there?”
“I can’t. The business is…” I stopped. “I just can’t.”
“It seems profitable—”
“It is. It’s just not enough. I can’t sell it yet. Couldn’t pay my replacement. If I’m not here to run it, I have to close it. I’d lose everything.”
He chuckled a little. “Well, you might lose a lot, but not everything.”
“I’d go bankrupt—”
“And?” He looked amused. “You know how many failed clinics I had? Two to be exact. One that the city decided to do road work in front of for eight months. Made my patients walk two blocks in sub-degree weather just to get to the door. Put me right out of business. Then another one with a bad deal with a partner. Shuttered after eleven years, had to start all over again from scratch. These things happen. At the end of the day, you’re still a doctor, whether you have this building or not.” He took another bite.
“It’s not just that,” I said.
He chewed and swallowed. “It never is. I’m gonna tell you something. I hope you don’t mind some sage advice from an old man.” He looked me in the eye. “I would trade everything for one more day with my wife. Everything. If you love that girl even half as much as I loved my Claire, you will pack your bags and leave yesterday.” He nodded at the back room. “None of this matters. None of it. It’s just stuff. You can build another clinic somewhere else, but that? What you have with her? That is not easy to find. The universe doesn’t just hand out true love. And I know that’s what this is because I see you’re willing to kill yourself over it. So if you have that, if you’re one of the lucky ones, why in God’s green earth would you give it up?”
“My credit—”
“Yup. That’s gonna be rough for a while, but it won’t stop you from getting a good job somewhere. These are excuses. Is it pride? Or maybe you don’t love the girl enough. I might be jumping to conclusions on that, if I am, I apologize, feel free to ignore me.”
But I did. I loved the girl enough.
It wasn’t really any one thing. It was all the things.
There was the showing up with nothing to offer her. No job, no savings, bankrupt and penniless. Letting Maggie and Tina down, them having to find a new job after they’d believed in me. Having to disassemble everything I’d spent years working toward, watching my clinic sell at auction for parts.
All of that was enough.
But to know my parents would be laughing? Rejoicing in it? The last insult to this injury. I couldn’t stomach that most of all.
I put my head into my hands.
Hank studied me. “This might come out of left field, but do you talk to your parents?” he asked.
I shook my head slowly. “No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s hard to explain,” I said, sitting up.
“Huh. I figured as much.”
He set his fork down.
“Did you know my clinic used to be over on Main?” he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“No. I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah. That was the business with the bad partner. The one that went under. Used to be New Hope Veterinary back then.”
Something about the name was familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
“I met this young man there,” he said. “Long time ago. Probably seventeen, eighteen years now. I thought about him for over a decade. Never stopped really. He came in with this collie mix, I’ll never forget her name. Winnie.”
I froze.
“That’s you, isn’t it?” he asked. “I wasn’t sure at first, took me a few weeks to settle on it. It was the eyes I remembered. You got taller, got the beard, but the eyes didn’t change.”
My heart was pounding.
“You came in with that dog and I helped her,” he said. “Shit parents if I remember correctly. And now here you are.” He shook his head. “I’ve never been much for believing in fate, but I gotta tell you, this one makes the argument. Or maybe it’s karma. Good people attracting other good people. The ladies working for you because you’re a good doctor, and then coming to get me because they knew this would be a safe place for me when I needed it. Anyway. No matter how I ended up here, I think it was because I was supposed to see how you turned out.” He smiled. “And look at you. Look at everything you did.”
I was speechless. I couldn’t even believe it.
I didn’t recognize him, didn’t remember the name. But now that I knew, my brain released an ancient memory and filled in the parts I forgot.
It was him. Older, grayer, more slumped—but him.
“I… I became a vet because of you,” I breathed.
“And a fine one at that.” He leaned forward to look me in the eye. “The people who raise us have a hold on us. I still think about the things my parents did and didn’t do—we’re built that way, you know. We’re supposed to care what they think, it’s a survival instinct. But parents are human and not all humans should have children. Sometimes you just get bad ones. I never got to be a parent. Wanted to, but it wasn’t in the cards for us. But nothing to do about that now. I think I would have been good at being a dad, in my opinion. And on that note, for what it’s worth, I want you to know that I am proud of you. You’re a good man. You did well. And I don’t know the whole situation—maybe you’re stalling because of everything you said. Or maybe you’re stalling for them. You have something to prove. They’re waiting to see you fail and you want them to wait forever. But she’s also waiting forever. And so are you. You need to think about that.”
He pushed up on his knees and stood. “All I’ve got left are memories. You still have a chance to make them. I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”
He smiled at me a moment. Then he cleared his empty plate, tipped his head, and made his way out.