Page 109 of Ten Day Affair
I stand in the kitchen doorway, listening to the sound fade into morning traffic. Another person moving on. Another piece of my life here is coming to an end.
I slideinto the wicker chair across from Arden at our usual spot at Blue Water Café. The umbrella casts a perfect shade over our table, and the harbor stretches out beyond the railing. She already has an iced tea waiting for me, condensation beading on the glass.
"You're a mind reader."
"I'm a crisis manager. Reading situations is literally my job."
"Oh, right."
She pushes the glass toward me. "So, have you made any earth-shattering life decisions since yesterday?"
"I'm actively avoiding making any real decisions today." I take a long sip, the cold tea cutting through the humid afternoon air.
"That's not a sustainable strategy, Sam."
A pelican dives into the water near the dock, emerging with something silver wriggling in its beak. Life goes on, even when you're falling apart.
"I know Grady's the better fit," I say without looking at her.
"Then what's holding you back?"
The question hangs between us like the salt-heavy air. A server weaves between tables, carrying plates that smell like fried grouper and key lime pie. Normal people doing normal things.
"MUSC has perks. Great location, excellent program, the beach."
"Stop. You're listing features like you're buying a car. What do you want?" Arden leans forward, removing any opportunity for me to blow off her difficult questions.
"MUSC feels too much like what I'm leaving behind. Too perfect. Too polished. Too familiar."
"And Grady?"
Grady scares me in the right ways.The thought hits me before I can filter it.
"Grady scares me, too, but I'm not sure why," I admit.
Arden's eyebrows shoot up. "Explain that."
"It's the opposite of everything I've known. Downtown Atlanta, a Level I trauma center, serves patients who can't afford to shop for the perfect doctor. It's messy and loud and?—"
"And not Good Samaritan."
"I think you nailed it, Ar."
"You are still you outside of all this." She gestures toward the harbor, the expensive sailboats, the world we grew up in.
The truth sits heavy in my chest. "I don't know who I am outside of Palm Beach. Outside of being Samuel and Evelyn Taylor's daughter. Outside of carrying on some legacy I never chose."
"So find out."
"What if I'm terrible at it? What if I can't handle the pressure without all the safety nets?"
"Then you fall, and you get back up. That’s what you do."
A breeze picks up, rustling the palm fronds overhead. The pelican has found another fish.
"How long’s it been since you heard from Cole?"
The question takes my breath away, but I try to hide it. "Two weeks"
