Page 86 of The Devil You Know
Alyssa’s face falls. “Oh.”
I don’t know what to say. Should I apologize?
No, I shouldn’t! Ischleppedall the way over to the LIRR to pick her up. And I’m not even late, in spite of a major tripping incident this morning.
Alyssa finally holds out her hand to me. “I’m Dr. Morgan.”
I stare at her hand. I’m not entirely sure what to do. Should I pretend we’re just meeting each other for the first time, even though we worked together for two years? Finally, I say, “I know. It’s Jane. You remember me, right? Jane McGill.”
Alyssa’s eyes widen. “Oh! Jane… I didn’t realize. You look…”
I’m very glad she doesn’t finish that sentence. I genuinely don’t want to know how it ends.
I lead Alyssa to where I parked my car, and she looks nothing short of horrified by the sight of my ToyotaCamry. I’m a VA internist—did she think I was going to be driving a Mercedes? Okay, the car does have a few scratches on it, including one really long scratch that runs across both the front and back doors on the right side. Also, there’s that big dent in the front fender. And the smaller dent in the back fender. But that’s just body damage—it’s fine on the inside and that’s what counts.
Unfortunately, Alyssa doesn’t look any more impressed when she opens the passenger side door. She plucks a French fry off the seat and holds it up accusingly.
“This was on your seat,” she says as she shakes it in my face.
So? I’ve got a four-year-old child. French fries happen—you can’t stop them. To be honest, I’m astonished she only found one of them. If she looked in the back, there are probably enough French fries to feed us for a week if we somehow got trapped in the car.
I take the French fry out of Alyssa’s hand and toss it out the window when she isn’t looking. Then I start up the car, intending to speed the entire way to the VA.
The lights are not on my side. Almost immediately, we miss a light that I know will result in us having to wait for a good minute. I glance at Alyssa, who is staring out the window miserably. I feel somehow compelled to make conversation. This is a time when I wish I were more like Ben, who never feels any obligation to talk in order to fill awkward silences.
“So,” I say brightly. “How are things?”
Alyssa sighs. “Fine.”
“And how is…” Crap, I can’t remember whether Alyssa had a son or a daughter. “How is your… child?”
Nice save, Jane.
“Fine,” she says, without offering any gender-specific cues.
“They must be getting older,” I comment. Since all human beings are getting older, it’s probably a safe assumption.
“Yes, it goes fast,” she says vaguely.
The light changes and I jam my foot into the gas pedal. Alyssa grabs onto the dashboard and flashes me a dirty look. I don’t care at this point. She’s given me so many dirty looks over the years, I can’t even distinguish them from her regular looks. I’m not even certain shehasregular looks.
When we get to the VA, I lead Alyssa to the lecture hall where she’ll be teaching us all about hospice care. She hands over the flash drive containing her PowerPoint presentation, and naturally, everything goes wrong. I can’t seem to lower the screen onto which we project the computer image. Then when I sort that out, the image won’t appear on the screen. It would be so much more helpful if they got someone with actual AV knowledge to do this.
Alyssa watches me in silence interjected with tiny sighs. As people start to filter into the auditorium, she says, “I thought they were sending someone who knew how to use this equipment.”
“Idoknow,” I say through clenched teeth, despite the fact that I clearly don’t.
“Haven’t you been doing this for a year?” she says. “Why are you having so much difficulty?”
You know what I’d really like to do? I’d like to surreptitiously insert “I’m a bitch” into one of Alyssa’s slides. That would be awesome. But I feel like all the evidence would point to me as the culprit.
Alyssa sighs extra loudly, and I lift my eyes to glare at her. Honestly, I’ve had enough. She’s not the boss of me anymore. We don’t evenworktogether. I don’t have to take her bullshit anymore. I finally spoke up to Barbara, and now she’s become… well, not agoodemployee, but much less awful. I’m going to stand up to Dr. Alyssa Morgan once and for all!
“You know what, Alyssa?” I say.
She raises her eyebrows at me. That’s when I notice that there are purple circles under her ice-blue eyes. I notice the multiple strands of gray threaded into her brown hair that she hasn’t bothered to dye. I wonder what Alyssa’s life is like right now. Maybe she spent her morning consoling a kid who face-planted in the garage. Maybe worse. I have no idea.
“You need to give me another minute,” I finally mumble. “I’ll figure it out.”
