Page 163 of Just One Look
“Oh,” she said. “Because of course you do. You know, for somebody who’s just about as messed-up as me, you’re incredibly functional.”
He laughed. “I could say the same about you. Reckon we’re two functional messes. A matched set, eh. Only fit for each other.”
She couldn’t stop smiling, and yet she wanted to cry. “So, no, I don’t think it was PTSD, or not mostly. It was you.” Her hand was on his face now. “I thought, if this job is my dream come true, why does it feel so bad? Why do I feel like my heart is breaking? And I just … it’s you, and it’s more than you. I came here because I wanted a life. Because Ineededa life. The days go by, and surgery isn’t enough anymore, and here … I’ve started to have a life. A real life. How could I leave it behind? How could I leaveyoubehind? I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t get off the floor and get on the plane, and then I thought of something else. When I told you about the job, did I ask you what you thought?”
“No,” he said. “You didn’t.”
“See,” she said, “I could’ve sworn I did.”
She felt him smiling, even though she couldn’t see it. “To be fair,” he said, “I’m not sure how well I listened. I heard you leaving, and maybe I …”
“Maybe you slammed the door,” she said, “before you had a chance to see me turning around.”
“Yeh,” he said. “Like that. But I have to tell you something, too. My neck may really be buggered this time. Nils thinks so, though he won’t say it outright. You may not be getting a rugby player.”
She lay still, and he said, a different note in his voice, “That’s bad, eh.”
“No,” she said. “I just didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Right, I don’t know what to say, so I’ll just talk. What will you do instead, if that happens?”
“I have a diploma in physiotherapy. Licensed, too.”
“But …”
“Yeh. I don’t really fancy it, not for a lifetime. There’s something else as well.”
She got herself over him so she could see him and asked, “What?”
“Rhys—the coach—asked me, a month or so back, if I’d thought about coaching. I’ve been running some of the young boys around a bit, the forwards. Bit of a bossy fella, probably, but that’s just being an 8.”
“A decision-making position,” she said. “Deciding. Communicating. Being sure of yourself.”
“Well, yeh. How do you know?”
“Nils. Do you think Nils wants to be named our fairy godfather?”
Luka laughed. “Imagine his horror at the thought. Anyway. I could try coaching, maybe, if I’m done. I think there may be a reason Rhys asked me, and anyway, it’s … it’s in my blood, rugby. It’s my one best thing, the same way surgery is for you. It saved me, and it’s … it’s mine. And I can’t give it up without a fight.”
“Then you shouldn’t.” Of this, she was sure. “You should try. I’ve been held back by fear my whole life. Maybe I can’t help but feel it, but I don’t have to let it stop me anymore. And I don’t think it should stop you, either. Let’s try. Let’s jump out of the plane. Metaphorically speaking,” she hurried to add. “I’m not skydiving, so don’t ask. Baby steps.”
He smiled, but his eyes were serious when he said, “If it doesn’t work, I’ll do the physio, maybe join a practice that works with people in sport, and take up adventure racing for the missing pain factor, but I need to try first. I could be a grumpy bugger, though, if it’s not working. IfI’mnot working. I’m used to working. I don’t know how not to. In that, I reckon we’re the same.”
“No,” she said. “You won’t be grumpy. You could go quiet on me, though, and make me think that you’re mad at me, and I’ll have to remember that you love me and ask you what the problem is. And you’ll have to actually tell me. Goals, like you said. Communication goals this time.”
“Also,” he said, “coaching is travel, the same way playing is. You could think it’s too much.”
“Or,” she said, “I could think that for once, I’m not having to apologize for my job and my life and my whole self, because you get it. But …”
“Yeh,” he said. “It’s also moving around the country, most likely. Maybe even around the world once or twice. If that doesn’t work for you, it’s the physio. Most people don’t get one career they love. I’ve had one, and maybe one’s enough.”
“Luka.” She laid her head on his chest, felt his hand come down to stroke over her hair. “No, one’s not enough. And here’s the thing I realized. Being eminent isn’t about where I am or how much money I make or how much the hospital makes off me. It’s about what I do. Nobody can make me a great surgeon. Only I can do that, and I have a portable profession. I’m a board-certified neurosurgeon with excellent credentials, and I’m pretty sure I could get a job anywhere that had a rugby team, at least in New Zealand and Australia and the U.K., so if you can live with those restrictions, we’ll be good. At least I hope I can do that, because it turns out I quit my job here, and now I want it back. I’ve never been flaky in my life, but I think I just earned my badge. Let’s hope they’re the forgiving sort, or we could both be unemployed.”
“You’d follow me,” he said. “Really?”
She laughed, now. She shouldn’t. It should still feel risky and tentative and not at all sure, and she could feel her father’s cold rage and disbelief all the way across an ocean and a continent, but it didn’t matter. Her body wasn’t curled up anymore around her pain. Her body was curved into his, his was curved into hers, and they could share their pain. Couldn’t they? She thought so. She was going to believe.
She’d hung back, always. She’dheldback. She’d been that mouse, hiding in the corner. Now, she was coming out into the room. She was going to believe.
“Why wouldn’t I follow you?” she asked. “Why wouldn’t I want to do the job I love, practice in different places and see the world and swim in the ocean and be with the man I love, too? It’s not nearly as much money as Emory was offering, but I’m—”
