Page 37 of Love in the Lab
It’s simultaneously embarrassing and comforting. They helped me with tasks like these all the time when I was growing up. When I was seven and eight years old, getting dressed in the morning before school felt like such a burden some days, literally more intimidating than climbing a mountain. They would help me, even though I was far too old to need help putting on clothes.
When I was in middle school, they helped me keep track of my school assignments and deadlines. They didn’t do it for me, but they sat down with me after school every day to review my agenda. They guided me on how to prioritize:yes, the science assignment is more fun, but the social studies project is due sooner. Why don’t you work on the social studies project first?
In high school, they reminded me to take my medication and spent hours in the car with me while I was learning to drive. It took me a lot of practice to acclimate to all the variables I had to pay attention to at once while driving a car: monitor the mirrors, watch the road ahead, steer, press the appropriate pedals.
And now, they’re helping me organize my adult life, too. It’s the kind of support I don’t have regularly anymore. On the one hand, that’s a relief, because I’m an adult and don’t want to burden someone I love with taking care of me. On the other hand, taking care of myself all by myself is exhausting.
I remember when I was really young and would melt down from overwhelm and not know how to communicate my feelings except by knocking everything from the table onto the floor. I remember how frustrated they would get when I would not, could not get in the shower because it just felt really hard to do. I remember taking time and attention away from my younger sisters because I just needed so much. I know I could be a lot to deal with. I am a lot to deal with.
My parents and sisters understand. They’re family. They know me; they know what to expect. They love me and so don’t mindwhen I need extra support, or forget to call again, or neglect to clean up after myself.
That’s another reason I value my work at the lab so much. It’s a mutualistic relationship. The lab benefits through my time and efforts that can lead to breakthroughs in our research. I benefit through satisfaction, fulfilment, and, you know, a paycheck. But with a romantic partner, I can’t see what I have to contribute. The relationship is bound to be parasitic—like the codependent way copepods cling to the skin and gills of sharks, feeding on them—where I get all the benefits and he is only harmed.
Chapter fourteen
Molly
Sunday evening after I’ve said goodbye to my parents and they’ve gone back to their hotel for the night, I text Nicole to see if she’s free for a video call. She answers with a thumbs-up. When her face comes on the screen, she’s sitting on a dark brown couch with a dog in her lap.
“You’re at Adam’s,” I say in lieu of a greeting.
“Yeah, but we’re fine. He’s in the shower. We have a few minutes.”
I send her a teasing smile. “Mom and Dad are heading your way in the morning. Is Adam nervous about meeting them?”
“Oh, yes.” She grimaces. “It doesn’t help that he offered to let them stay in his guest room while they’re here.”
My mouth pops open. “No! Why would he do that?”
She sighs. “Because he has the extra space and didn’t want them to get a hotel room unnecessarily.”
“Wow. Adam is such a good guy. I’m not even housing them, and I’m theirdaughter.” Also, my apartment is a postage stamp, and Dad says he is well beyond the stage of crashing on somebody’s futon while traveling.
Nicole laughs. “Yeah, well. You know them better than he does.”
Of course, we’re joking. Our parents are pretty much the best. I’m cringing, though, thinking about how uncomfortable it will be for Adam to host his girlfriend’s parents whom he’s never met before. He must really love Nicole.
A pang of longing erupts in my chest. I am so happy that Nicole and Adam got together. I cheered for Adam the whole time before Nicole admitted her feelings for him, and they really are adorable together. My joy for my sister finding true love is tinged with sadness, though. Despite my bravado about how it’s better that I’m alone so I can focus on my work, I’m lonely. Witnessing how meeting Adam has changed Nicole, opening her up and softening her, I wonder if maybe there’s hope for me, too. Immediately, Jonathan’s ridiculously good-looking face springs to mind.
In the lower right corner of my phone screen, I watch my own face as it twists into a grimace.
Nicole notices, too. She sits up straighter as she peers into her phone screen. “But I’m guessing you didn’t call to talk about Mom and Dad. Everything okay?”
I tell her about fieldwork with Jonathan and the pranks we’ve been playing on each other at the lab. I share my excitement about the data model I’ve developed and the breakthrough itcould be. I explain how severely my daily routines have morphed over the last six weeks.
“So, what’s the problem?” Nicole asks. “Mol, it sounds like you’re having fun. You sound happy.”
I tug on the ends of my hair. “That’s the problem! I can’t have fun at work. At work, I need to focus on work. I can't afford to get distracted.”
“You’re doing your best work right now! You said so yourself.”
“Yes, but that’s in spite of the distractions.”
Nicole shifts in her seat, and the dog jumps down from the couch. “Maybe it’sbecauseyou’re allowing yourself to take brain breaks.”
I shake my head. No. I can’t afford Jonathan and his distractions anymore. I’m going to tell him the prank war is done.
Monday afternoon, I watch Jonathan walk to the breakroom and emerge a few minutes later with a lunchbox that he takes out into the hallway. He must be going to eat lunch on the bench outside. I grab my lunch out of the refrigerator as well and follow him downstairs. Now’s as good a time as any to talk to him about ending the prank war.
