“I don’t think I know them.”
“The kids are Dr. Hung’s old patients. We transferred them to you when he left.”
I check the time.
“Who’s still here?”
“It’s Thursday, so it’s Dr. Osbourne’s late day. She has patients for another hour.”
“Ok, I’m going to finish up a file and then head out.”
“Doing anything fun?”
“Going home to study with some friends and eat a chicken pot pie.”
“That doesn’t sound fun at all.”
“That’s the story of my life, Penny.”
I’m part of a group of medical residents who are studying for the state boards in our respective specialities. Sometimes we meet virtually and other times we meet at each other’s apartments. Tonight they’re coming over to my place. I never had the group over before because Troy was usually here and he was the type that needed my attention when we were in the house together. I suppose now that I look back, that was another sign. He needed my undivided attention when we were together, and I wasn’t capable of giving him that. I don’t think anyone with a life of her own is.
Once I arrive home, I scratch Mitten’s chin, disrobe, and throw on my favorite sweats. The gang will be here in an hour, so I have little time to warm up some cheap frozen appetizers. I toss a couple boxes of egg rolls in the oven and go through my mail. There’s a letter in the pile without a stamp addressed to me. It’s Troy’s handwriting.
He’s been in the apartment.
Fuck.
I look around to see if anything is out of place. Has he been inside here before? Maybe I should call the landlord in the morning and change the locks like Jason suggested.
Dear Adrienne,
I have spent our time apart reflecting on our relationship and my behavior. We have some issues, but I don’t think they are impossible for us to overcome. I made a mistake. A big one. But I know you are not the type of person to write someone completely off because of one mistake. If you are ready to talk things through, then I’d love it if you would call me. I’m so sorry, Adrienne, and please know that I still love you. I hope you love me too.
Regards,
Troy
There is also another piece of paper inside the envelope. It’s a trifold brochure of a banquet hall that he once mentioned in passing that he wanted us to consider for our wedding reception. This is insanity. He can’t possibly think that there is any chance in hell that I’m marrying him. I put the letter and brochure back in the envelope and stuff it in my junk drawer in the kitchen. I’ll deal with this later. Right now I have to get in study mode.
My study pals Owen, Paige and Keisha and I are seated cross-legged on my living room floor with our students materials spread out across the floor when the doorbell rings and my anxiety ratchets up a notch. After the letter I just read, I’m not sure what kinds of shenanigans Troy could be up to. Would he just pop by like this, wanting to talk things through?
“Is someone else coming over?” Owen asks with a concerned look on his face.
“No, I don’t know who it is.”
Owen is kind of the patriarch of the group and keeps us on point. We’ve been friends ever since medical school, and he’s kind of like a big brother to me. He monitors me as I answer the door, which makes me feel a little less nervous.
I look through the peephole and notice there’s a delivery man holding an enormous bouquet of flowers in his hands.
“Who is it?” Owen asks.
“Flowers,” I say.
I answer the door and sign for the flowers.
“Hold on a second, y’all.”
The group goes back to snacking on egg rolls as I read the card attached to the flowers, which reads:Tacos or Steak?
