Page 14 of Nothing to Lose: Lost Trilogy: Part 1
“That’s okay,” I assure him. “I have studying to do anyway.”
I am in my last year of college, getting ready to graduate in a few short months. In fact, the only thing I have left to do is pass my state exams. The hospital in Red Lodge where I did some of my clinicals has openings, so I’ll have a full time job right away.
“I’m not sure why you bother with that, Emily,” Steve tells me now, sort of killing my vibe. “Between your father and I, you don’t need to work. Not those kind of hours anyway.” He alludes to the tough shifts I’ll have once I am a full time nurse.
“Steve,” I smile into the phone. “This is something I’ve always wanted to do. If I don’t do it now, I will never be able to do it once I have a family, kids…”
The implication is definitely there. I am hoping to have a family with Steve. I’ve always wanted a big family, with lots of kids running around, and he seemed to be on the same page as me from the moment we became a couple.
“I know, I know,” he cuts me off, quite abruptly I might add. “Play around with that for a while if you must.” His voice takes a teasing tone, erasing the fleeting uneasiness from seconds ago.
“I am really close to being done with my final tests,” I assure him. “They told me at the hospital I can start working now. I’d have to do more menial tasks and work weird hours, but it’ll get my foot in.” I can’t disguise the excitement in my voice. “And then I’ll be an official nurse once I pass my state exams!”
There’s a bit of a pause on his end, to the point where I wonder if the call dropped.
“Does your father know about this?” Steve asks me in a brisk tone.
“Uh, yeah, I think I told him,” I shrug even though he can’t see me, unsure of where he’s going with this.
“And he’s okay with it?” Steve sounds incredulous.
My eyebrows about get lost in my hairline when they go up in surprise. “Why would my father have a problem with this?”
In fact, my father is extremely proud of me for doing this, and he tells me that every time I see him. It’s almost as if he’s showing extra excitement, for my mother as well since she is sick and mostly in her own world.
Steve sighs into the phone, the sound bothering me for some reason.
“I didn’t think a man of his stature would want his daughter starting from the bottom like that.”
“From the bottom…?” I shake my head in confusion as I stare into nothing. “How else would I turn out to be a great nurse unless I started from the bottom and learned the ropes?” What am I missing here?
“You’re right,” he finally lets it go. “Forget I said anything. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
“Definitely! Call me with all the details!” I sound a lot more enthusiastic than I feel. It’s almost as if he took the wind out of my sails with his passive aggressive comments. It bothers me that he doesn’t seem to be completely supportive of my career choice.
In the end, I decide to let it go. I’m sure he will be fine once I actually start bringing an income. Steve is in finance, and the only language he speaks is money. If it makes sense money wise, he is all on board. If it doesn’t seem to be making him a profit, he is completely removed from it.
I’ll just have to show him that this is a good investment, I think to myself. A picture of me doing an entire presentation to Steve on why I should continue with my career in nursing, complete with a slide deck, pops into my head, making me laugh.
“Oh, Steve,” I chuckle to myself, then finally pop the door to my car open to get out.
During my conversation with my boyfriend, I’ve been parked in front of my parents’ house since I thought of calling him just as I was pulling into their driveway.
I almost squeal when I run up the stairs, happy with life altogether. I just lost a little bit of weight, I have a cute outfit on, I have an amazing boyfriend, my first step in my nursing career is almost complete… Life is good.
I don’t bother with knocking at the door. Instead, I let myself in and head upstairs since I know the house is empty on the lower level.
“Hi, mom,” I greet my mother when I walk into her bedroom.
“Emily,” she gives me a faint smile. It’s barely there, and it is always the same. I can’t ever tell if she is happy to see me or not.
“How are you feeling today?” I ask as I take a seat on the small couch she has by the large window. That’s where I find her on most days.
“I’m doing well, honey,” she pats my hand gently. “How are you?”
She always tells me the same things every time I see her. And with each visit, I see her getting weaker. My mother’s battle with lupus has been mostly one sided for quite a while now. She went through phases where she’d rather suffer in silence than seek treatment, and that took a toll on her body.
“I’m okay, mom,” I assure her in a soft voice. I’ve always been scared of talking too loud while around her. I was never told to be quiet, but it was just the vibe surrounding her very being.
