Page 41 of Paging Dr. Hart
“Hey.” I drop into the seat next to her. “I haven’t seen you in forever. How’s it going?” I’ve been so busy dealing with my mom’s illness and trying to stay caught up at school that I’m losing touch with Shelly.
“Shitty.” There’s a resigned hopelessness in her voice. “How about you?”
“Same.”
“I think we might get evicted. There’s no money left.”
“I’m worried about that, too,” I sympathize. “Our apartment manager is patient, but she won’t wait forever if I can’t make the rent.” It gives me no relief to realize that Shelly and I are dealing with the same problems. Moms that can’t or won’t work and unending debt. It’s too much for a 17-year-old to handle.
“I need money,” I admit.
She examines me carefully. “How serious are you about wanting to make money?”
“I’m dead serious. We can’t move out of that apartment. My mom’s not strong enough to look for a new place.” Even the overcast sky seems lower today. It’s claustrophobic. The weight of the clouds presses down on my head.
Shelly glances around, like she wants to make sure no one can hear. In a whispery voice, she says, “I’ve got an idea.”
36
Present, Columbus, Ohio
Not talking to Ethan doesn’t make me feel any better. I robotically move through my day, going through the motions. When I interact with the staff, I’m cool and remote. At lunch, I eat by myself rather than at the table where Melanie and a large group of residents sit. Back to my default ice queen status. Glumly, I imagine placing a crown of icicles and thorns on my head.
The only thing that makes the day bearable is knowing that tomorrow I’ll leave this place. It’s time to go to the big annual American College of Advanced Radiology conference in Orlando, Florida. This year, the conference organizers have requestedmeas a guest speaker. It’s rare for a resident to be asked to give a lecture, so I remind myself to double check that the renal tumor staging is accurate this time. I can’t make a mistake. No Ethan will be around to correct…or embarrass me.
The best part about the conference is that it includes free Disney theme park tickets. Lectures end every day at 3:00 p.m., leaving plenty of time to check out the parks in the evening. Ever since I was a child watching cartoon movies and snuggling on the couch with my mom, I’ve dreamed of going to Disney World. Before, I couldn’t afford it, but now I can go because the Medical Education Department pays for the conference entrance fees.
All I need to pay for is the airfare and hotel. I lucked out and found a cheap flight. The hotel room was a splurge, even with the discounted conference room rate, but it was worth it because it saved me from having to rent a car. It’s the hotel where the conference is being held and has hourly buses leaving to take guests to the parks. I had hoped I would get the Resident of theMonth award with its $1,000 bonus, but they haven’t announced the winner yet. I’ll have to pinch pennies and cover the cost on my own.
The timing couldn’t be more perfect. Now I won’t have to worry about seeing Ethan for an entire week.
•••
“Flight 1312, please prepare for boarding.” The airline agent’s voice crackles through the speaker directly above my head. I sigh with relief. My flight is on time. I shouldn’t worry since my presentation isn’t until the middle of the week, but I don’t want to miss a single day in the amusement parks.
The straps of my backpack dig into my shoulders as I board the plane. I shift it, adjusting the heavy bag. It’s weighed down by my laptop and several romance books. The flight is packed. Angry babies wail as I walk by, their tight-lipped parents trying desperately to calm them. When I finally locate my seat, I’m disappointed to find it’s on the aisle. Longingly, I gaze at the empty window seat. I hoped to sit there so I could watch take-off and landing.
I’ve only been on an airplane once before, when I moved from Las Vegas to Ohio. I still remember when the plane broke through the clouds. The way those gauzy wisps tore apart and then recoalesced. Too bad the human heart can’t be punctured and then repatched so easily.
A thin man in a shabby black suit sits in the middle. I offer him my most friendly smile as I settle in next to him. He doesn’t return the gesture. In fact, the man scowls at me.
Geez, Middle Man. What’s your problem?
Ignoring him, I bring out my latest romance book. I’ve been looking forward to a couple of hours of uninterrupted reading. Hopefully, focusing on other people’s love lives will keep my mind off Ethan.
When I’ve read about five pages, a body jostles against my legs as the passenger with the window seat attempts to climb over me. A heavy foot stomps on my toes. I let out a yip of pain, looking up angrily to see warm amber eyes staring down at me.
“I’m sorry,” says Ethan. “Did I step on you?”
My mouth gapes open.
What the hell?
Ethan takes his place by the window. His ridiculously long legs don’t fit the tight space, so his knees end up jammed against the seatback in front of him. It doesn’t look comfortable, but I refuse to feel sympathy for him.
I lean forward, bending around Middle Man, and hiss loudly, “What are you doing here?”
Middle Man’s head snaps toward me as he frowns with confusion and disapproval. “Do you two know each other?”
