Page 80 of Wish I Were Here
“I can’t imagine it any other way. I’ve always worked hard, gotten straight As, and had full scholarships to college.” But as I say the words, something heavy settles in my chest.Make the changes and get it back to me by the end of the week.I know I can do it, I always have, by pulling all-nighters, sleeping at the library, doing whatever it takes.
But even with Dr. Gupta’s approval, I can’t quite muster the enthusiasm like I used to. All day yesterday, when I was holed up in my apartment working on the paper, I just kept thinking about everyone at the community center. The fundraiser is only a week away, and they need everyone to pitch in.
“It sounds like you take after me.” Melanie gives me an appreciative smile.
I sit back in my seat and take in my mother. Even after she spent an entire weekend in the ER, her hair is perfectly styled, makeup light and understated, and she’s changed into a pair of dark trousers and a neatly pressed blue blouse. She mentioned on the phone that she was on her way to her office to do paperwork for her faculty position. And then will she be back at the hospital in the morning?
A couple of weeks ago, it wouldn’t have sounded very different from my life. But now I can’t help but wonder:What about friends? Or dating?
“Melanie, can I ask you something? How do you do it all? Don’t you sometimes get…” I lift a shoulder. “Tired?”
She tilts her head, thinking it over. “Well, it can be difficult to catch up on sleep after overnight shifts in the ER. I make sure to take power naps in the break room whenever possible.”
I trace a finger on the wood pattern on the table. “I don’t mean lack of sleep. I mean, don’t you get tired of the pace? The workload?”
Melanie shrugs. “I enjoy working hard.”
“And what about a social life? Do you—date? I assume you don’t have any other children.”
“No. When you have children, you give up your whole life.” She lifts her hands apologetically. “No offense, of course.”
I shrug. She said essentially the same thing the other day.
“I date occasionally. But to be honest, it’s hard to meet men who can handle being with a woman like me.” Melanie leans her chin on her palm and looks across the table at me. “Women like us. You and I are similar, Catherine. I could see that right away. We’re smart, we’re driven, and we have the opportunity to make it to the very pinnacle of our respective fields.” To my great surprise, she reaches across the table and touches my arm. “We have to be careful of the men we let into our lives. They may seem like fun at first, and you may even think you’re in love. But you have to ask yourself if they’re truly the kind of person who can help you reach your goals. The wrong person will derail your career if you let him.”
I sit back, letting her words sink in. She was in love with Dad once. I can hardly imagine it now. Dad withhis buoyant laugh and his juggling clubs and his circus friends. And Melanie off to present at another symposium. They would never have worked out. She would havehatedArtSpace. Don’t even get me started on Burning Man. And then, I can picture Dad telling embarrassing stories about Melanie at the hospital Christmas party, and Melanie’s face growing redder and redder.
It would have been a disaster.
Melanie’s voice cuts into my thoughts. “Don’t you agree, Catherine? That our careers should come first?”
Oh.She’s not just talking about Dad. She’s talking about Luca, too. It was clear she was wary of him at her apartment the other night, and now I understand why.
How many times over the past week was I struck by how alike Dad and Luca are? Yes, it’s their charm and their ability to connect with people. But it’s also their chronic lateness. Their casual attitudes toward work. Their general chaos. Would being with Luca derail my career and my plans? It’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. But then he gives me that smile… not the wide, charming one he shares with everyone else. The one that’s more subtle, and lifts slightly on the left. The one that’s just for me. The smile he flashes right before he’s about to say something to make me laugh, or after he kisses me, or when I’m worrying over something and he wants to let me know he’s there for me.
But am I just caught up in the fun and excitement of him, like Melanie suggested? Am I flattered that the popular boy likes me? With my mother sitting there like Future Catherine who’s come back in time to show methe right path, it’s hard not to wonder. And hard to ignore how close I’ve already come to letting distractions cost me my job.
With an uneasy nod, I change the subject, steering the conversation to Melanie’s job at the ER and her presentation topic for the symposium. Then I talk a bit about my work—my research paper, my syllabi—but I haven’t started the job yet, so there isn’t much to say. When there’s a lag in the conversation, I remember that Idohave something interesting going on in my life.
“I’ve been helping to plan a fundraiser for our local community center.” I wrap my hands around my coffee mug. “Developers are trying to buy the building, so we’re working on raising enough money to save it.”
“Very interesting. How did you get involved with that?”
“An older woman in my building, Mrs. Goodwin, asked me to help. The center serves hundreds of older adults a day, giving them a place to go and spend time with other people.” My voice picks up speed. “Did you know that loneliness is as bad for your health as smoking?”
“Interesting,” Melanie repeats. “It sounds like a worthy cause, and perhaps you can use it as community service on your CV.”
“Oh, I guess.” The thought hadn’t crossed my mind. “The fundraiser is next Saturday. Maybe…” I rub my hands on my pants. “Maybe you’d like to come?” I realize how much I want her to say yes. I hope Melanie will be a part of my life, and this fundraiser is important to me.
It occurs to me that Dad will be there, too. But it’s beenthirty years. And if this relationship with my mother continues, they’ll need to be in the same room together at some point.
“Sure. Send me the details.”
I can’t believe how well this is going. “I will.”
After coffee with Melanie, I walk into the lobby of the DeGreco to find Luca sitting at the front desk, flipping through his phone. Mrs. Goodwin must have headed over to the community center to order everyone around in preparation for the fundraiser.
Luca’s head pops up, and a smile spreads across his face. “Hey, how did it go with Melanie?”
