Page 38 of Maybe in Another Life

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say.

“She makes forty thousand a year plus benefits.”

I look at him.

“When we fire her, we’re going to be looking for someone who can answer phones, schedule appointments, and be the face of the office.”

“Oh,” I say. He’s offering me a job.

“If you tell me when you think you could take over, I’ll keep her around for a few weeks. Make sure the job is available for you.”

“Really?” I ask him.

He nods. “Wouldn’t think twice about it. You deserve somebody looking out for you.”

I am touched. “Wow,” I say. “Thank you.”

“When they ask how much you want to be paid, say forty-five. You’ll probably get forty-two or forty-three. Full benefits. Vacation time. The whole kit and kaboodle.”

“I’m not really trained for working in a doctor’s office,” I say.

He shakes his head. “You’re bright. You’ll get it quickly.”

Tina and Gabby come out of the kitchen with tinfoil-wrapped cinnamon rolls and Tupperware full of leftovers. Mark comes out of the bathroom.

“Shall we?” Gabby says, heading for the door. She gives me some of the leftovers to carry and opens the front door.

Barker comes running toward us and paws me. I push him down. Mark jumps away from him as if he’s on fire.

“You can heat those up in the microwave,” Tina says. “Or in the oven at three-fifty.”

“And let me know,” Carl says, “about what we talked about.”

Thethank youthat comes out of my mouth is directed at both of them, but it cannot possibly carry all the emotion I have behind it.

I say it again. “Thank you. Really.”

“Anytime,” Tina says as she gives me a hug good-bye.

I hug Carl as Tina hugs Gabby and Mark. A few more seconds of good-byes, including a heartfelt one from Gabby to Barker, and we are out the door.

Mark gets into the driver’s seat. Gabby takes the passenger seat. I lie down in the back.

“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks.

“I’m fine,” Mark says before he realizes she means me. He lets the moment pass.

“I’m good,” I say. I mean it. Truly.

When I left the Hudsons’ to go to college, it never occurred to me that I could come back.

I kept telling people, “My family is in London, my family is in London,” but I should have said, “I also have family in Los Angeles. They live on a quiet, tree-lined street in a Craftsman-style house in Pasadena.”

My family left at around nine tonight only after I insisted that they sleep at their hotel. They wanted to stay the night, but the truth is, there isn’t anything for anyone to do but sit beside me and stare. And sometimes I need my own space. I need to not have to put on a brave face for a little while. Now I am alone in the peace and quiet. I can hear the hum of electricity, the faint beeping of other patients’ machines.

People have been bringing me books left and right. They offer them up as a way to pass the time. Books and flowers. Flowers and books.

I pick up a book from the stack Gabby has made, and I start to read. The book is slow to start, very descriptive. Slow and descriptive would be fine on a normal day, on a day when I’m not trying to quiet my own voice, but that won’t work for me right now. So I put it down and pick up another one. I go down the stack until I find a voice quick and thrilling enough to quiet my own.

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