Page 70 of Paging Dr. Hart
Ah, that’s what has been making him so unusually quiet.
“How old were you when that happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” he says softly.
I wait for the depressed feeling I often get when I think back to that time, but it doesn’t happen. I’m calm, like maybe I can have this conversation and come out on the other side and still be okay. It’s a new thought that grief doesn’t have to be my only companion.
“I had just turned 18.” I lift my gaze to his, taking comfort in his now-familiar features.
The line between his eyebrows deepens. “Who took care of you? I think you said you don’t really have family.”
“A neighbor, Mr. Chen, who was close to my mother and me, took me in. He was like family to us. Legally, I was an adult and didn’t need a guardian, but emotionally I was a wreck. He watched over me. If I hadn’t had him…well, I don’t want to think of what would have happened.”
I let out a deep sigh. “Mr. Chen was great, but he was old. He got really sick less than a year after losing my mom. That was a turning point for me. I had stopped caring about anything by then. Didn’t care about school or my future anymore. Mr. Chen made me promise to try again. He had been a doctor in Taiwan. Right before he died, I swore I would continue his legacy and go to medical school.”
I remember it, first one coffin going into the ground, then eight months later another coffin, another funeral. More sadness that made me feel like I was there with them, buried six feet deep. Like I’d never see the light again.
Ethan stops walking and stares at me, his face filled with quiet sympathy.“How did you survive it? I hate how you had to go through that, especially alone. If I had known you back then, I could have helped.”
Right there, in the middle of the walkway, with people flowing around us like water parting for two boulders, Ethan pulls me roughly to his chest. He hugs me tight. At first, my hands hang at my sides. I’m overwhelmed by his close proximity and by memories from my past. How different things could have been for me if I had known Ethan back then. How things could have been better if Shelly had stayed by my side. But Shelly had abandoned me. I’m worried that eventually everyone else, including Ethan, will leave me too.
This realization hits hard. I’ve spent the past decade of my life pushing everyone away, so I wouldn’t have to experience that kind of pain again. With tears pricking the backs of my eyes, my hands come alive and wrap around him, returning the hug.
Muffled against his firm chest, I murmur, “I wish I had known you back then, too.”
He pulls away and looks at me tenderly while I swallow my tears. Even though I’m working hard to let Ethan in, I still don’t like to cry in front of him.
“Man, I’m not doing a very good job of giving Tiffany the most fun day of her life so far, am I?” He frowns. “I ask you about sad stuff and dredge up memories you might not want to face.”
“It’s okay.” Seeing his doubtful expression, I repeat. “Really, it’s okay. I’m glad you asked. Most people don’t know what to say when someone you love dies so they stay silent, but that doesn’t help. I’m glad we talked.”
“Then I’m glad too.”
59
The Test Track ride leaves my hair tangled and my eyes stinging. It was fast and jarring, and I loved it. “What did you think?” I ask Ethan as we walk off the ride. I’m practically skipping, so invigorated by the experience.
“It was awesome. I can’t believe those cars go 60 miles per hour.” Ethan looks around as the walkway splits in three directions in front of us. Not sure which way to go, he asks, “What’s next?”
I consult my mental map. Epcot has two main sections—a front section that is mostly rides and a back section called the World Showcase. The World Showcase surrounds a large lake and has 11 different pavilions that each feature a different country. The architecture of each pavilion matches its country, and in each one there’s native food and shopping. I suggest we go there. Ethan nods in agreement.
We walk through the first couple of countries, stopping to window shop and people watch. When we get to the Germany pavilion, Ethan asks to get lunch. It’s getting late, so I agree. A quick-service restaurant advertises authentic bratwurst. The spicy sausage is delicious, on a fresh-baked bun with house-made chips.
Not wanting to take the time to sit down and eat, we munch as we walk. There’s a chill in the late fall air. Dry leaves and a few stray pieces of dropped popcorn skitter by our feet, stirred by the breeze. A shiver runs through me as a particularly strong gust sends my hair flying.
Without a word, Ethan takes off his coat and places it over my shoulders. The jacket is still warm from his body. I shove my arms into the sleeves, liking how they’re too long and hang over my hands, keeping my fingers toasty. Hoping Ethan won’t notice, I turn my nose to the collar and inhale his cleanscent. It’s comforting, the now familiar blend of soap, laundry, and mint. I settle deeper into the jacket with a contented sigh.
Ethan’s watching me, a tiny smile lighting up his face. “You’re different now from how you were when I first met you. It’s like you’re lighter, sunnier. Like you’ve bloomed.”
I think about how he’s right and wonder if he realizes how much he has to do with my transformation. It’s from spending time with him that I’m learning to trust and be happy again. I want to grab that joy and keep it with me, but what if I’m not always able to hold onto it? Would he reject me then? Leave me like I’ve been left before?
“Do you like me better this way?” I ask tentatively.
Without hesitation, he answers, “I like youallways, happy and sad. I like all the Tiffany’s past, present, and future. I’ll take them all.”
His words turn a key deep in my heart, opening doors that have been locked for far too long.
A kiosk on the edge of the Italian pavilion catches Ethan’s attention. It’s a small brown building with a tile roof. A sign on the side advertises gelato and cannoli.
Ethan eyes it hungrily. “Should we stop?”
