Page 45 of Home Between Homes

“Okay, I will tell you. But first, answer me one more question, Noah.Whyare you reluctant to apply to Dorian’s clinic? You wouldn’t be so upset if it wasn’t a viable option.”

“I already have another job lined up.”

“Oh, I see.” He nodded knowingly. His eyes narrowed. “Okay. Let me summarize what I’ve gathered: You already have a job that seemed like a good solution at the time. It’s not your dream job, but it’s a safe choice, maybe because it’s close to the people you love. Now you’ve found out about the possibility of working as a veterinarian here, the dream job, but it’s in a place like Seastone, a boring little town where opportunities are rare and far away from friends and family. Does that sound right?”

It was a little more complicated and basically the other way around, but close enough, so I nodded.

“Okay. So let me tell you first, I can’t decide anything for you. Nor can anyone else. That we’re alive to make our own decisions is the greatest privilege we humans have. But I can tell youthis...” Mr. McCormac leaned a little closer. He cleared his throat, raised his palm in front of him, clenched it into a fist, and then opened his hand again as if to release the air he had justencased. “In your case, the decision has nothing to do with the job.”

My head snapped forward. “Huh?” He couldn’t be serious.

Mr. McCormac chuckled at my reaction. “Before you jump down an old man’s throat, let me explain this thought.” He patted the couch next to him to indicate that I should sit down.

We had come this far. I might as well hear him out.I sighed, walked over, and sat down.

He cleared his throat. ”Even though we are sometimes led to believe otherwise, a job itself is only a means to an end. What’s important in life are the things we love and cherish: our relationships, our integrity, our freedom, our soul, and our body. Taking care of thesepillars,as you might call them, so that we can enjoy ourselves for as long as possible is the hardest task we face in life. Every big decision we make should be in order to maintain them.” He glanced at his wife, who was busy in the kitchen, peeling potatoes and whistling to a song on the radio. “You can have the best job in the world, which means nothing if it separates you from the people you love. Just as the most delicious sweets aren’t worth it if they destroy your health. Sure, personal growth is essential—and picking the right education and job falls under that category—but as far as I can tell, you’ve got that covered either way.” He turned back to me. “If you don’t know what to choose, ask yourself what is trulyimportantto you, what you genuinelylove, and what makes life worth livingfor you. That should be the basis of every decision you make. If you want a healthy body, eat healthy food, even if it’s maybe a little less tasty. If you care about someone, take the job that allows you to be with that person, even if it comes with a grain of salt. When you see most things for what they are, a means to an end, it becomes easier to choose.” He winked at me and pushed himself up with a groan. “I hope this has helped you in someway, but I must find a proper place to sit now.” He walked into the kitchen and dropped into the nearest chair.

Mrs. McCormac was still at the counter, peeling potatoes as if they hadn’t gotten back only an hour ago. She looked at her husband. “What is it, dear?”

“I’m never getting on a plane again.”

“You said the same thing to me last year.” She put down the potato peeler and walked over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. “It’ll be better tomorrow.”

While his explanation was a little too simple for my situation, it still made a lot of sense.

My decisionwasn’tabout the job. Itwasn’tabout my debt. Itwasabout my health and the relationship I had built with Jack.

If I left now, I could still burn out. There was no guarantee that the FDA job would be good for me and my mental health. But if I stayed, I would have Jack. He alone was worth fighting for. He was worth the risk. If he wasn’t, it wouldn’t feel so wrong to leave now. I wouldn’t have to find solutions to all the problems we might face before they even arise. Because if I stay, we can look for them together.Why couldn’t I have seen this before?

Mrs. McCormac patted her husband on the shoulder and then walked over to me. “I want to thank you for a job well done, too.”

“Can I ask you a favor?” I said. I had to take the last straw to make things right again. “Do you have Jack’s phone number? I misplaced the business card he gave me.”

“Oh, sure,” she replied, pointing to the pinboard above their landline. “It’s right there.”

I spotted it in the lower right corner, just below a postcard with pictures of the Maldives. It had been there all along, right in front of my nose.

I took out my phone and snapped a picture. “Thank you,” I said to her. “For the number and the chance you gave me.”

She smiled at me. My eyes wandered to Mr. McCormac, waving at me from the kitchen table and then to Maggie, sitting next to him, enjoying a few strokes.

“Well, it’s time to go,” I said, holding up the envelope as if to say that now that I had my money, I didn’t want to hang around any longer.

All three of them escorted me to the porch to say goodbye. “If you’re ever in town again, stop by for tea,” Mr. McCormac said as he shook my hand.

I patted Maggie one last time. Her head was down, and she wouldn’t even look at me, but as soon as I walked away, she broke free from Mrs. McCormac’s grip and followed me through the snow to my car. When Mr. McCormac came running, she refused to go back in, and only when I walked back with her did she listen. We said goodbye for the third time, and I left their house alone.

As soon as I got behind the wheel, I pulled out my phone, saved Jack’s number in my contacts, and called him. My legs and chest were shaking. It rang three times before I finally heard his voice.

“Hey,” he said.

A million thoughts raced through my mind. The things we had experienced, the conversation with Mr. McCormac, and how my heart was beating faster just imagining his face. It was so overwhelming that instead of speaking, tears rolled down my chin. I opened my mouth five times, trying to form a sentence, but all I could get out were sobs.

Jack listened patiently, and when I calmed down a bit, he sniffled as well. “Take your time. I swear I won’t hang up.”

“I didn’t call just to cry into the phone. Promise.” A laugh mixed with my sobs. “I’m sorry.”

“Believe me, I understand.”

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