Page 87 of Finding Jack
“No problem.” Shep did his best to chase my feet around the kitchen, but I was too used to it from my own dogs growing up to mind. Fifteen minutes later I had omelets plated for both of us, and Shep was crunching on the puppy mix Sean set out for him.
“So you and Jack,” he said, causing me to choke on the sip of coffee I’d just taken.
“Excuse me?”
“What’s going on with you two?”
“Nothing. We’re friends. Did he say something different?”
Sean took a drink of his own coffee and eyed me over the rim of his mug. “Not exactly. But I know him well enough to read between the lines. And here’s what I think. Based on what I hear from him, and what I hear from Ranée, you and Jack have spent a lot of time trying to convince yourselves of this friend thing, both of you are failing, and it’s totally obvious to the two other people paying attention, so you should probably figure stuff out.”
I didn’t bother denying it. There was no point. Instead I took a bite of my omelet and refused to meet Sean’s eyes.
“He thinks he’s serving a penance,” Sean said.
He had my full attention. “Who? Jack?”
He nodded. “Yes. We lost a patient that we’d both grown attached to, and everything he’s done since for the last two years has been about him trying to atone for that. But he can’t. We can’t bring her back. And the reality is that it wasn’t his fault. He did everything he could—way beyond what anyone else would have tried—and it didn’t work. But he doesn’t believe it, so he punishes himself.”
Shep finished at his bowl and walked over to plop himself on my feet and rest. Sean nudged him with his foot. “Traitor.” Shep only panted in response.
“That’s so sad.” It was true, but also inadequate to describe the way it made me hurt for Jack. I knew him well enough to know that a loss like that had probably killed him inside.
“It was horrible. That’s why I’ve been so relieved to see how Jack is coming to life. It’s because of you, if you guys can just figure out what Ranée and I already see.”
I traced the rim of my mug for a minute, considering his words. They gave me a different sadness. “There’s nothing to figure out. All I can do is be his friend, be a listening ear now that he’s started talking a little bit.”
“That’s the thing. Jack doesn’t talk to anybody about anything realever. It’s huge that he’s talking to you. And what’s more, I think you could talk him out of hiding, get him back to the real world.”
“You’re overestimating our connection. He feels valuable at the clinic. He’s not going to leave, and I’m not going to live in the Oregon wilderness. So there you go. Lost cause. Jack and I stay friends. End of story.”
“Jack hates working at the clinic.”
That startled me. “He didn’t sound like he hated it when we talked about it the other night.”
“He does. Trust me. I know him extremely well. He’s there out of a sense of a duty, but what he’s doing, a lot of other doctors could do. What he does in his specialty, it takes guts and genius that exactly one guy has. Jack. He’s talked himself into thinking he’s doing good where he is, but he could be doing even more good if he went back to oncology. I think part of him wants to. But part of him doesn’t think he can tolerate losing another patient. And he would. But he’d save some too. He forgets that because the fight is so lopsided.”
I rose and scraped the remaining half of my omelet into the garbage. I’d lost my appetite. “You seem to think I have some kind of power to save Jack. But when it comes right down to it, we’re social media friends. We’ve never even met. I don’t have the ability to change his mind about anything. And it’s not my job.” I wish it were. The strength of that desire startled me, and made me even sadder to know that it wasn’t and couldn’t be. I wanted to save him, I realized. But it wasn’t my place.
“I get that,” Sean said. “But I think Jack would change his own mind with the right motivation. He was in a massive low place when he came to Oregon, and I think he’s climbed out of it more than he’s realized. He’s restless, but he’s talked himself into believing he’s irreplaceable at the clinic because it’s the easier path right now. The thing is, he was never an easy-road kind of guy before this. It’s just not him. He’ll figure that out eventually. I think, based on the way he tries to ask me casual questions about you, that you’ve reminded him of the wider world.”
“I’m glad I helped, I guess, but what does it say that he didn’t jump at the chance to tag along on this trip here? I don’t have enough influence on him to drag him back to society when he won’t even take a weekend road trip to San Francisco.” That was a big part of the heavy feeling in my chest, I admitted. That he could have come, and he didn’t.
“I didn’t tell him I was coming, Em. You can’t blame him for that. Maybe you can’t drag him into society, but I think you should come to Oregon and drag him out of the cabin. Or the clinic. I’m trying to convince Ranée she’s long overdue for a road trip and when I do, you should come with her. You don’t have to save Jack. But I think it’d be good for him to remember that he used to have a different life, that most of it was really, really good, and that there’s a whole world of people out there that he can gel with besides me.”
I took another sip of coffee while I considered this. “Why do you feel so responsible for him?”
“Because.” He sighed. “Because I think I’m leaving soon. I want to go back to nursing full-time, and that means moving back to a city. I’m the one who connected him with the clinic job. I feel responsible for him.”
“And you’re trying to shift that responsibility to me.” I wasn’t enough, and it was too humiliating to make that point again.
He finished his last bit of omelet and rose to rinse his dish. “I’m making him sound like a head case. He’s not. I think you should come see that for yourself.”
“Sean…” His logic sucked but his heart was in the right place, so I tried to think about how to phrase my next thought gently. I couldn’t come up with anything, so I said it straight. “You’re asking me to be bait, like I’m trying to lure a depressed bear out of his cave or something.”
“What exactly do you think we do in Oregon? We don’t mess with bears.”
“You know what I mean.”
