Page 106 of A False Start
But now I just get to be Nadia Dalca. The girl who wants to be a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine.
I’ve been asked out a couple of times, and I’ve kindly declined. I don’t even have to think about it. Are Griffin and I torturing ourselves and each other by taking this self-imposed time-out? Absolutely. But I know in my heart I needed this. I told him I didn’t expect him to wait for me, which is true. But I try not to think about that.
Not waiting for him just feels wrong.
And I know in my bones that we aren’t done.
Especially when I get home from my last exam and find another baby pink envelope waiting for me. This time I race up to my condo to open it in the privacy of my space. I plop myself down onto my bed and really savor opening this envelope.
I realize that I don’t know how many of the wildflower themed notes he might send. He might stop one day. He might move on. Heshouldmove on. I would never expect him to sit around twiddling his thumbs, waiting for me.
But the insecure girl inside of me desperately wants him to be okay with waiting for me.
I drag it out of the envelope. This time I’m met with spiky red and yellow flowers at the top of tall green stalks.
Paintbrush
Hummingbirds depend on these alpine wildflowers. The nectar sustains them as they migrate. These flowers keep them going, keep them moving forward in their lives without even trying. Just by being themselves. These flowers are the reason the hummingbirds survive. Reminds me of you.
My eyes burn, but I don’t cry. Because his message isn’t lost on me. I’m what’s keeping him going, and that motivates me more than anything he could have told me. Blinking rapidly, I put everything back in the envelope and tuck it into my bedside table with the rest of his notes. Then I go to my desk, crack my books, and get to studying. I focus on the task before me, but still...
I miss him.
* * *
My brotherand Mira took off for a tropical vacation over Christmas. Hawaii. They begged me to come with them, but the thought of taking that particular vacation with their little family and without Griffin felt like more than I could bear. I’ve waited this long to take that vacation. When I do it, I want it to be perfect. As perfect as that day in the field.
Plus, one of my professors offered a student placement at their prestigious vet clinic in the city over the holidays. And by prestigious, I mean working overnight shifts, so the other vets and techs get their holidays off. No one wanted it—surprise, surprise—except me.
My memories of Christmas growing up aren’t warm and fuzzy, so I guess I’ll work my ass off and run myself into the ground in celebration. At least it’ll look good on my resume. And it seemed like the perfect way to pass the time between term one and term two.
On Christmas Eve, I sit at the emergency vet clinic, taking care of other people’s furry family members surrounded by employees I don’t know. It’s my doing, but I miss my family and friends something fierce. I miss my horse. I’ve gone back on the weekends to see him and cashed in on my riding lessons from Violet and Billie. I’m getting pretty good.
When I go back, I avoid town and hole up on my brother’s farm, not wanting to run into anyone. I spend hours grooming Cowboy to a perfect gloss, dreaming of the day I’ll be able to ride him. I massage him. I cuddle him. I tell him all my most embarrassing secrets.
If Cowboy were here right now, I’d tell him I was secretly hoping Griffin would reach out to me for Christmas. I told Griffin a clean break, but I thought he might send me a text message or something.Something.
According to Violet, who has reached out to me more than ever since I left, Griffin will be picking Cowboy up and taking him to his place to start his training in the new year. I’ve learned so much about rehabilitating racehorses since Griffin bought him for me, and I can see myself doing this over and over again with other horses in the future. Ones who need a second shot at life—a fresh start.
Kindred spirits.
I’m at the front desk watching the clock on the wall move toward midnight. The ticking sound is almost hypnotic in the otherwise quiet clinic. All the staff has warned me Christmas is a real shit show. And that starts in the middle of the night usually with people’s pets who have eaten something they shouldn’t have.
So, I soak up the peace while I can, watching Christmas Eve melt into Christmas Day. At a few minutes past midnight, the front door jangles and a tired-looking man walks through.
He holds up a pale pink envelope and says, “Is Nadia Dalca here?”
I point at my chest, right where my heart is rushing uncontrollably. “That’s me.”
He smiles briefly and drops the envelope down on the countertop between us. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” I say, unable to pull my attention from the best gift I could have asked for.
When I open the envelope, I see small blue and purple almost spherical petals growing along a tall stem in a spear-like shape. I recognize them from the field at Griffin’s house.
Arctic Lupin
These wildflowers produce a neurotoxin called Sparteine. In the afternoon, they produce nearly five times the concentration they do at night. It’s a defensive tactic against the grazing patterns of the snowshoe hare. Smart as fuck. Reminds me of you.
