Summer: Adjustments
Izzy's neck cracked as he sat up. Grimacing, he rolled his shoulders, trying to release the tension. Why is everything so tight? He glanced at the clock on his laptop and jerked hard enough to crack everything again. Apparently, his intended half hour of programming had stretched on for over three hours.
I still need to grade those assignments by tomorrow, and it's already close to midnight. Izzy dropped his face into cupped hands and rubbed his forehead. It's going to be another late night.
Izzy leaned back in his desk chair and stared at the ceiling. This wasn't the dorm room he usually shared with Joe. That dorm was closed for the summer break. He had his own room in a smaller building, and, while the privacy was welcome, he was finding it easier than ever to lose track of time with no one around to distract him.
The thought of distractions sparked a memory that had Izzy rising. I haven't called Amy today! He fished through his pocket, muttering obscenities as his mobile got caught in the fabric. Sure enough, there was a missed call and two text messages. His heart sank when he realized that he had forgotten to switch his phone out of silent mode after classes. He seized his laptop and lay on his bed. Amy was online, so he initiated a webcam conversation.
"I'm so sorry," he began, but something about her appearance had him faltering. Her hair was tied back into a sloppy ponytail, with bumps and dark strands sticking out. She was hunched towards the camera, and there was very little animation to her expression.
"You look exhausted," he heard himself say. Oh, excellent, fool. He forced an awkward, tight smile as Amy ran a hand over her hair.
"Yeah," she said at last. "Probably." Her fingertips latched onto the hair tie and pulled it free. She finger-combed her hair, fluffing it away from her head at the roots.
"I, uh, I didn't mean it badly. I'm sorry." Apparently, it was Apology Night, at least for one Isaac Williams. "I meant to call you earlier. I lost track of time, and I'm afraid I didn't hear your call and texts. The phone was on silent, and..."
He broke off awkwardly, half hoping for her to comment. But she was just staring at him. A deep distance was in her eyes, and Izzy was reminded of staring down a dark well. "Ah, are- are you alright?"
Her glance swiveled to the side. "Well, I mean, I'm fine. It's just, uh, I don't really like traveling so much. And getting settled, and all. I'm pretty tired."
Izzy's stomach froze over. Although his phone was by his side, he missed it on the first few tries. His intention was to pull up his schedule, but his fingers had gone too cold to work the touchscreen. "But- But- You couldn't have left today," he stuttered, rubbing his hand against his thigh.
Amy tipped her head. The smallest hint of a smile touched her lips, but not her eyes. "Pretty sure I did."
"That's not- I'm not arguing-" Traces of warmth returned to his fingers from the friction, and he tore through his schedule, flipping to today's date. He turned it towards the camera, showing it to Amy. "I don't understand. I can see my meeting with Dr. Edwards, the extra TA hours, and tutoring with Hana. What happened to my entry for your departure?"
He flipped the phone back over and poked the date. The entry scrolled down, revealing the reminder he had entered some time last week. He stared at the display, too shocked to do more. Why didn't I think of such a simple thing?
The answer came on the heels of the question: I've never had enough entries to push something off of the main screen before.
The phone slipped and fell onto the keyboard with a crash of clacking keys. Amy flinched, and Izzy reached for her, as if too soothe her, but of course there was nothing to touch but a screen. Idiot, fool, moron. The string of insults darkened when Amy passed the outside of her wrist over her eyes.
"I'm so very sorry," he said. "I... I meant to... I made a note, but..."
There was a seizing sensation in his chest as his lungs expanded, trying to restart his breathing. How was he supposed to say this to Amy? Her expression was blank and frozen, her eyes glossy and unfocused, like a porcelain doll viewed in a candle's shifty half-light.
Her stiffness didn't appear to be an absence of emotion. On the contrary, there seemed to be something pushing at her control, making muscles tremble. It occurred to Izzy that Amy was attempting to alleviate his guilt response by pretending that she wasn't upset. Somehow, those efforts- or rather, her perceived need of them- only made him feel worse. Who ever thought I'd have such a nice girl to tear up inside.
His voice clouded with bitterness. "My reminder for your departure got crowded off of the main display by subsequent entries." The harshness of the excuse hovered between them, echoing and reinforcing their physical separation. But what else could he do? Lie? He stared helplessly at Amy, feeling gutted and hollow, like a carcass on a butcher's table.
As a silence formed and stretched on, something new registered through the miasma of guilt. I wasted my opportunity to say goodbye to her. A full three months will pass before I can be near her. Disappointment bit into him, and he bent over, as if to duck away from a nipping creature.
Truthfully, he hadn't spent any time fantasizing about saying goodbye to Amy. But now a visual of their hands parting as she stepped onto the train filled his mind: the reassuring glint of his ring around her finger, the lingering heat from her touch, quietly fading as the train pulled away. He couldn't even have that much.
And neither could she.
A driving headache formed behind his temple, like the repeated striking of hammer upon anvil. "I can't apologize enough. I, I... What should I do?" He lifted his palms, feeling like a cat rolling on its back, offering up its vulnerable underbelly.
Amy backed away from the camera, drawing her knees up to her chin. There was another miserable pause, and Izzy's spirits sank more with each second. He wished he could dissolve away, and he kept glancing at the pile of papers on his desk. Burying himself in them was the next best thing, but that wasn't an option until the call ended.
He twitched when she finally spoke. "It's just... You're there, and I'm..." She swept a hand listlessly through the air. "...Here."
Izzy winced. She already gave you an opportunity to do something for her. You made a mess of it. You're already aware that life isn't forthcoming with second chances. "May I ask- I'm not trying to blame you- But, why didn't you remind me? Or call me before you left?"
Her arms wrapped around her knees and pressed inward. "I, I guess... I wanted you to remember." Izzy's eyes pinched shut as her voice trembled. "And I did call you. I got your voice mail. Didn't you say your phone was silenced?"
Damn it all to hell. "You're right. You're right."
"Yeah, so... What can you do?" She laughed, but it sounded more like a gurgle, air passing through a clogged throat.
"Amy!" His fist struck his comforter, but the impact was too soft to satisfy the spike of agitation. "Why are you- Don't try to laugh it off!"
Her forehead creased, and finally, finally, she showed an unguarded emotion. "Well- Who says I have to react a certain way?"
Izzy closed his eyes and forced a few deep breaths. "That's not- I'm sorry. Of course you're free to feel whatever you will. But I'm not sure what that is. Can you tell me what you're thinking?" He was answered with stiff silence. "Amy," he said, tipping the screen closer to his face. "Please."
The feedback from her camera bounced as Amy fell back onto her bed. "I'm so tired, Izzy. It's late. Can't we sleep?" She covered her face with her hands.
Shut out by distance. Shut out over the webcam. Panic jolted through him like a mild electrical shock. "Amy-"
"Besides, you probably have something to do." Heat restored feeling to his blanched cheeks. Izzy glanced at the exams he needed to grade and felt a strange hatred. "So, I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow? It will have to be earlier, though, my shift starts in the late afternoon." Amy sat up and reached for her laptop's touch pad, and Izzy guessed that she was going to shut the program off.
"Wait!" Izzy cried. "Please. I feel like you're closing a door on me."
Her posture sagged. "I don't understand? I said we'll talk tomorrow."
"We'll speak, yes. But my guess is that you won't allow me to broach this subject. I'd like to resolve things now." Izzy was familiar with Amy's ability to close herself off from a person sitting beside her. He suddenly realized that it would be easy for her to use the miles between them to slip beyond his reach. The danger loomed around him, like the groaning walls of a gutted mine. If he extracted just one more black lump of coal, the place could collapse.
Amy's eyes pinched shut, and she rubbed her temples with both hands. "I just don't see what there is to do. Isn't it sort of… done?"
Done. The word echoed in his mind, final and unforgiving. "I... Tell me how to make amends. Please. I'm aware that, ideally, I should know how on my own, but… I'm afraid I don't."
Amy was quiet for a long time, but she seemed to be considering, so Izzy waited with rising hope. Finally, her lips lifted at the corners, and Izzy smiled back. He made a beckoning motion with his hand, as if to draw the words out.
"Can you…" The words stalled, and she looked away, running her fingers through her hair. "I would really like it if you visited me over the summer."
Izzy grimaced. Why was it that the only two things she had ever asked of him- physical intimacy and proximity- were beyond his power to give? The outstretched hand curled into a fist. "I have classes, TA sectionals, office hours, and a job. It's not possible for me to take any days off."
Amy flinched, as if he had insulted her. Izzy realized that he had spoken defensively in response to an answer that he had elicited, and that he should have foreseen. "Well, you asked what I want," she said, her tone thin and wavering. "That's... That's what I want."
He swallowed convulsively. There wasn't a single thing he could say in his defense. "I'm sorry," he offered at last. That's not sufficient. You know it's not.
"Yeah," Amy muttered, shifting away from the camera. "Listen, I really can't stay awake any more. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Good night." Izzy tried to stall her again, but the words caught in his throat, and the call was cut off.
Izzy stared at the blank screen for a long time. Somehow, he knew that Amy was crying, and that he was inches away from doing the same. Groaning, he moved to his desk, hunched over the exams, and got to work. But the distraction did nothing to ease the pain in his chest, which lingered into his sleep.
Another Day
Dusk was falling in the forest. A fading blast of orange hovered on the horizon, a remnant of sunset. The sky beyond was darkening to black, and soon the bats would swoop out of their roost in a chattering tide of wings.
Amy turned nervously back to the portion of netting that she was unrolling. She wanted to walk faster, but the girl holding the opposite corner was lagging behind. The netting was cumbersome, prone to catching on grass and twigs, but it wasn't heavy. What was the hold up?
"Um, Angela?" Amy said. "We might want to move a little faster?" She passed another student, and he began to hammer the bottom rungs of the net into the ground with stakes. Another boy on a ladder attached loops on top of the net to rods nailed into trees.
"Don't worry so much. We'll get there." Angela didn't look at her, but Amy was already familiar with her eternal expression of teenage ennui. Angela's features and faint accent seemed to hail from Latin America or Spain, but Amy couldn't place her more specifically without asking. She had black hair, a light olive complexion, full lips, and dark, heavy-lidded eyes. Her build was short, curvy, and just a little chubby.
The professor in charge of the study strode up to them, her movements crisp and efficient. "Let's move, ladies! Angela- uh-" The professor looked at Amy and smiled apologetically.
"Amy, Dr. Johnson."
"Right. Amy. Let's move! The bats will be out any second."
Nodding, Amy heaved on her end of the netting, no longer worrying about Angela's pace. If she didn't want to keep up, then at least the professor would see whose fault it was. Angela sighed and fell into step with her, and they were soon securing the end of the net to its post. Angela moved to its far side, so that the net was between her and the building nearby. The rest of the students followed as Amy tested the strength of her knot.
She couldn't help looking all over the place as she joined the pack of kids. Amy had never been in a forest this thick, even near the outskirts, as they were now. Forest scenes in movies were usually so quiet, but there was a cacophony of bird, insect, and frog calls. Dr. Johnson had to shout to be heard over the din of creatures seeking mates.
"Everyone put on your gloves. I know some of you handled bats yesterday, but I want everyone to have a go this evening."
Amy picked up a pair from a pile near the group's trio of SUVs and slid them on. They were heavy duty to protect from bites, but thin enough that Amy could still use her hands with confidence. She returned to the net and tipped her head back, surveying the roost site.
The house in the woods was probably beautiful years ago, but those days were long past. The two-story colonial structure was sagging and overrun with plant life. In the growing darkness, it seemed like the set of a horror movie, and that feeling would soon intensify. Amy stepped closer to the net and squinted, trying to see in the darkness. A gasp slid free as the bats stormed the windows and threw themselves into the sky.
"Now, the scales that we installed in the windowsills yesterday aren't much good to us at the moment," Dr. Johnson shouted. "We have no way of knowing which bat is stepping on them. But we're going to begin the process of microchipping them tonight, and then the data will be associated with that chip."
That's so cool, Amy thought, staring at the cloud of pulsing wings overhead. The colony was almost a thousand individuals strong. Most of them flew above the net, but it was still weighed down with struggling bats by the time the horde passed.
Amy moved closer. Poor things, they look so scared... Her hands rose, itching to free the nearest creature. But immediate release would do nothing to help the scientific community, so she held back.
Dr. Johnson led them to the opposite side of the net. "Everyone gather around," she said. "Girls, you might want to pull your hair back." Amy's hair was already braided. She had spent enough time untangling herself from struggling, pointy-teethed vampire bats to take that step unprompted.
Dr. Johnson demonstrated the basics of safely handling bats, then turned to the group, asking for a volunteer to try it. Her eyes landed on Angela, and the girl grimaced. "Won't we get rabies?" she asked, backing up a step.
Amy thought she saw the professor's eyes narrowing, but the irritation fled in an instant. "You all got the necessary vaccinations before you came. I approved the paperwork myself. And less than one percent of bats carry rabies to begin with. If you prepare yourself with vaccinations, wear gloves, and handle bats properly, you'll be fine."
She should have known that. It was in the dossier. We had to sign a form saying that we read it. Amy stared at the back of Angela's head and tried not to frown. The professor chose a different student and walked them through the process of extracting a bat from the net and placing it in a cage.
"Once we have some bats set aside, I'll teach you how to insert the microchip and register it to our database, and then we'll release them. For now, I want you all to try to your hand at caging the bats. Don't hesitate to ask for help if you need it." With that, the students were left to their work. Amy took hold of the nearest creature, speaking soothingly as she untangled thrashing wings from the netting. The evening bat had a black face with a broad nose, long, perky ears, and brown fur. On the whole, it was much cuter than the vampire bats, and Amy took an instant liking to the animal. Soon, she was closing a cage door behind it and heading back to the net.
A high-pitched cry had Amy turning from her next target. Angela was standing a few feet away, tugging at a bat. Her fingers were pinched around its body, and its delicate wings were twisted in mesh netting. The thin membrane between the wing bones folded over and stretched. "Be gentle!" Amy cried, running towards her.
"It tried to bite me!" Angela snapped. Her hand twisted, bending the bat against the curve of its spine.
"I'd bite you, too, if you treated me like that! Let it go!" Angela dropped the bat, and it sagged into the netting, further pulling the wings away from its body. Hissing, Amy cupped the creature in her hands, supporting its weight. It flailed and snapped, and she let it sink its teeth into her glove. The fabric protected her skin, but captured the bat's fangs, and Amy hastened to free its wings while the animal was stuck.
When the creature was free, Amy opened her palms, allowing it to disappear into the night. Angela tsked and stared after it. "Why'd you do that?" she demanded. "We're supposed to be microchipping them."
"There are plenty more," Amy said, fighting for a civil tone. "That one has had enough for one night."
Angela didn't respond. Her eyes drifted towards the next hapless rodent, and her lips curled. "If you don't want to handle the bats, then you should input the microchip ID numbers into the database instead," Amy said.
Angela's eyes narrowed. "This is what Dr. Johnson said to do. Who put you in charge?"
Amy paused, stilled by uncertainty. Angela was right to point out that Amy had no more authority than she. But the thought of watching the wings wrench back on another bat strengthened her resolve. "No one did. But I'm not going to ignore it if the bats are handled improperly."
Angela rolled her eyes. "Yeah, because you're so good at it."
Perhaps it was foolish, but Amy couldn't let that slide. She reached for the nearest bat, supported its jerking body, and eased the netting away from its wings, murmuring to it all the while. It was free in moments, and she held it with ease, never flinching away from the teeth.
Amy had hoped this would shut Angela up, but her upper lip rose even more, revealing her front teeth. "Why are you talking to it? It's a bat."
Amy's fingers stroked the bat's back, more to comfort herself than the wriggling animal. She didn't understand why Angela was picking at her like this. True, she had corrected her, but only because someone was in danger. "I guess bats aren't traditionally cute? But I try to be kind to all living things... Even when they try my patience."
If Angela understood the implication of her words, she gave no indication. She snorted and moved a few yards down the net. Amy watched her anxiously, but relaxed when she noticed Dr. Johnson following her. She'll make sure the bats are okay. Amy nodded to the nearest bat, as if they were in agreement, then got back to work.
The next half hour passed in a blur of wings and fangs, and Amy lost count of the bats she had transferred to the containment area. She jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder, breaking her concentration.
"You said it was Amy, right?" Dr. Johnson asked. "Can you come here for a minute? Carol, watch the kids for me, will you?" Baffled, Amy followed her. Darkness swallowed them beyond the large lights illuminating the net area, and the only light source was the bobbing lantern in the professor's hands. A strange sense of foreboding, stronger than any caused by bats, fell on Amy's shoulders.
Dr. Johnson paused by the trio of SUVs, opened one of the trunks, and took a seat, patting the spot beside her. Amy sat and stared at the older woman, trying to make sense of this meeting. Dr. Johnson's furrowed brow and distant eyes seemed to indicate thought. Why call me out like this? Did I do something wrong? Amy began to shift about, like a child waiting outside of the principal's office.
"I saw what happened earlier," Dr. Johnson said at last. She turned towards Amy, and the glow of the lantern glazed her dark skin with a thin streak of light. "With Angela."
Amy's hands rose, met, and began to wring. "I- I hope I didn't- I didn't mean to overstep my bounds. I was afraid for the bat."
The professor smiled. "Yes, I got that." The amusement faded, and her fingers began to drum against her knee. "I'm in... a delicate position. If you hadn't been so concerned about the bat, I'm not sure if I could say this at all. Regardless, I'm afraid that this conversation has to stay between us."
Amy's throat caught over her muttered agreement. Where in the world is this going? She suddenly felt cold, and her hands worked up and down her upper arms.
"I've worked with Angela before," Dr. Johnson sighed. She ran a hand over her head, which was bare, save for a thin layer of black fuzz. "Her parents are the chief funders of my research."
Oof. Amy edged back, as if she had been slapped. This did get sticky fast. She attempted a polite expression, but she could feel her eyelids flaring open.
"They're well-known conservationists, and they want their daughter involved in the efforts they support."
But Angela isn't interested. Not in bats, anyway. Amy waited when Dr. Johnson paused. She didn't envy the woman's situation, and she didn't understand why the professor was speaking words that could be used against her.
"At the end of the day," Dr. Johnson said at last, "there aren't enough people who care about the conservation of biodiversity, even if the animals in question are an essential part of their local ecosystem. I can't afford to offend my patrons."
"I'm sorry," Amy said, gripping the edge of the trunk's opening. "You're saying that you want me to let Angela be?"
Dr. Johnson winced and shook her head. "The safety of the bats comes first. Do we understand one another?"
You're worried that you'll lose your funding if you scold Angela, but someone needs to do it. Amy glanced about her, as if the darkness would offer an escape route. "I'm… not all that great with confrontation."
The professor's lips twisted into a grin. "Really? You did just fine today." Amy hastened to deny it, but was cut off by a sharp hand motion. "I'm not asking you to correct anyone. Just keep your eyes on the bats. I'll try to assign Angela to a less hands-on position once everyone is trained. In the meantime, don't worry if anyone mouths off to you about bossing them around. I'm always going to be in favor of keeping the bats safe. And on that note, I had better get back to the students."
Amy stood and followed the professor. Dr. Johnson stopped so suddenly that Amy nearly walked into her. "By the way, your technique with the bats is great. If you have no objections, I'll be keeping you as hands-on as possible."
And, for the first time since arriving in Ohio, Amy smiled. "Yes, ma'am."
Another Day
The heat was fucking alive. It was airborne, like dust that seared Tai's throat as he inhaled. It simmered in his lungs and evaporated the juices in his stomach. He was drenched in a stinging rain of his body's making.
Tai had to push against his knees to lift his upper body. His palms slid, and he barked a curse as he pitched forward. A teammate grabbed him, but didn't try to lift him. Tai thanked him without bothering to see who it was. It took too much damn effort to move.
The coach signaled for a break, or, at least, Tai thought he did. Even sound was sluggish in this humidity. He trudged behind the other members of the soccer team, staring down at the grass. It was charred brown at the tips.
Fuck me. A queue had formed at the water cooler. Tai's eyes bored into the boys in front of him, willing them to get their water and move. His irritability rose with each second, like pressure in a boiler. He clamped his teeth to keep his mouth shut.
Tai was filling his cup when the coach approached. "That's it for today," he said, wiping his forehead.
Most of the players seemed pleased, as much as the heat allowed, but Tai scowled. "Coach, we're only an hour into practice."
"I'm aware, thanks," the balding man replied. "But you boys are at risk of heat stroke. Go home. Crank up the AC. The heat's supposed to break tonight, so we'll add an extra two hours to practice tomorrow."
There was some garbled muttering at that. The team trudged towards the stadium and its showers, but Tai stayed put. He downed his water, grimacing at its tepid temperature, then dumped a second cup over his head, trying to disperse the sweat before it formed its own storm system.
Then he moved back to the center of the field, his arms and legs jerking with the effort. "Tai," the coach sighed. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Practicing." Tai kicked the nearest ball. It rolled a few sickly feet, then stalled. He moved after it, trying to ignore his laughable performance.
"Look, Tai," the coach said as he approached. "You've got your eye on the starting lineup. I know that. Working hard is one thing, but killing yourself over it is another. If you really need to do more today, then hit the gym. Stay where it's cool. You're no good to me unless you're healthy."
Tai stood still, turning over the options. That stubborn, reckless part of him wanted to keep going, to hone his skill while the rest rested. But his deep communion with his body warned him that he was risking a sickness that would impair him for a few days. Rest until you feel better. Then you can run, lift, whatever- as long as it's inside.
"Right. See you tomorrow, coach." Tai nodded at the short, stern-faced man, then turned to leave. Although the heat had melted his brain to mush, he still envisioned marching across the field as part of the team's core roster, and of moving up to a professional team from there.
Let the others dick around because it's hot. I'm going to regain my strength, then run around the indoor track until my feet go numb.
Another Day
Joe's bedroom door opened, and Mimi dropped her fashion magazine. She smiled and bent her legs to best advantage, showcasing her slight pajamas. Joe met her eyes and offered a stiff grin. There was no blushing or stammering at the sight of her draped over his bed.
"Joe-" Mimi sat up and scooted to the foot of the bed. She reached for him, and he came without embarrassment, shutting and locking the door behind him. Her arms wound around him, and he bent over her, easing both of them down. Mimi followed his movement, torn between worry and appreciation for the solid, warm body guiding hers to the bed.
He held her against him, resting his forehead on hers. Mimi cupped his cheeks and ran her fingers through his hair, pulling it away from his face. "Baby, did something happened?"
Despite their proximity, his gaze was far off, staring through her. His complexion was all wrong, a mix of gray and sickly white. Mimi called him again, and he jerked, pulling away enough to take a look at her.
"Mimi. I'm so glad you're here," he said. A broad hand moved down her shoulders to the small of her back. Mimi stared, unable to understand why behavior that was normal for most of her past suitors seemed so frightening from Joe.
"What happened?" she snapped. Worry had already eroded the thin cover of patience around her temper. Joe shut his eyes and pulled her into him, until they were flush. He was quiet and still for a long time, and Mimi had to clench her teeth to stop herself from demanding information.
"It's just… At the hospital…" He hesitated, as if unsure how to begin. "I've been mostly doing gopher work until now. I've made some progress, learning how to run some basic tests on patient samples in the labs, that sort of thing. One of the lab techs took pity on me, said I have potential." He laughed, a sarcastic, slightly desperate sound.
"Joe…" There was an incredible urge to demand that he skip to the point, but Mimi resisted.
"She convinced a doctor to let me shadow him today. I was really looking forward to it."
"Well, that's good, right?" So what's the problem? Mimi's eyebrows went taut, pressing down as a reluctant smile passed Joe's face.
"It was. But..." Joe's arms tightened around her body, and Mimi tried to squish in even closer. Although she wanted him to speak, she was making shushing noises, forgetting her goals in favor of soothing him.
"Things were going really well," he continued. He removed his glasses, set them aside, and sheltered his face in her neck. "But then- Then- All of the lights went crazy. There were all of these alarms- The problem was in the next room- We got there first."
Oh, no... Mimi finally thought she knew where this was going. For once, she wasn't pleased to hear a juicy story.
"There was a woman in the bed. She had some kind of heart condition, I don't know, I think someone told me the details? I don't know. But she..." He swallowed, and Mimi felt his Adam's apple press into her shoulder.
"She was so young," he whispered. He sounded shocked, frightened, maybe even a little angry. "The doctor and the nurses tried. They did everything they could. But I was just standing there-"
Mimi covered his mouth. "No, no, no, sweetie. It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself."
"I'm not. I know it's not." He pulled back enough to look at her, and Mimi kissed him lightly, trying to determine if contact would help. When he ended the kiss, she accepted it and tried to prepare herself for more. "It wasn't anyone's fault, but standing there while she died..."
"I'm sorry." Mimi couldn't stomach the thought of watching someone pass away. She had never even been to a funeral, had never seen a corpse. "Are you alright? Can I do anything for you?" Joe didn't respond, and Mimi discovered that she was unable to stop talking. "Maybe you can talk to your dad? I'm sure he's been through it, too."
He inhaled against her neck, working his way up the most prominent muscle. "That's a good idea. I'll do that later, after I've regained balance."
"Joe... After today, do you still want to be a doctor?" Mimi bit her lip when the words fully registered. Was that too much? But he seems so sad…
The answer was immediate. "Yes. For everyone one person that we can't help, there are a hundred that we can. It's not an easy road, and neither is being with a doctor. But that's what I'm going to do."
Mimi hesitated, unsure of how to answer. She felt a little small all of a sudden. Her day had consisted of learning different ways to strut down a runway, how to twirl at the end, how to always keep her balance, and which expressions to make in what settings. Those activities seemed trifling next to the challenges Joe was taking on in the name of helping others.
Stop that. You're doing what you love, and Joe's doing what he loves. If his load is heavier, then that's just a chance to do something for him. "Can I do anything for you?" she asked, slipping her hands under his button-down.
A shaky breath escaped him as he leaned back. "I, I- Would it be strange to-"
"Shh, of course not, baby. People need other people when they hurt." This time, when she kissed him, he melted into it, deferring to her lead, seeking comfort. As Mimi slipped her camisole over her head, she leaned in and said, "And I'll give you all I've got."
Author's Notes:
Gopher work: This is slang for a person who runs errands for superiors. Interns and volunteers often end up acting as gophers, making coffee runs, delivering things, and so on.
Okay, so the rest of October is going to focus on editing. I have a LOT of material to prep and post for Growing Up with You. I'm hoping that, by the end of October, I'll have the next eight or so updates edited and ready to go, so that I can post while I write 50,000 words of Seeking Resonance during Nanowrimo.
Whew! Wish me luck!
