“I didn’t realize it was so hard for you to share what’s on your mind.”
“Nothing is on my mind,” I snapped, flailing my hands in a way that made my words much less convincing. “It’s fine. Really. I just had a little thing with Brie this morning.”
“Because I checked in on her?”
“No, it had nothing to do with you. Just…family stuff.”
Henry stayed quiet for a minute as we continued around the trail. Eventually, he said, “You could tell me about it.”
“I promise, it wouldn’t interest you.”
He pointed to the water, saying, “Back to the pond with you. Go.”
“What?”
“If you’re going to be a silly goose, you belong in the pond.”
I did my best to respond, but all I managed was a loud, bleating snort that had too much in common with the honk of a goose. With both hands covering my face, I bent at the waist, laughing so hard that tears streamed down my cheeks. Henry looped an arm around my waist as he laughed with me.
“You called me a silly goose,” I managed through wheezes and hiccups.
“And I’ll do it again,” he said, tucking my head under his chin and holding me to his chest. “I’ve told you my ugly stories. You can tell me yours.”
We stayed there for a moment, locked tight together while serious runners and moms with jogging strollers breezed past. I really didn’t want to let him go though I was certain that had more to do with the emotional devastation of fighting with my sister about our fucked-up family than anything else. I was fragile and empty right now. Of course I didn’t want to let go. I needed someone to keep me from floating away into nothing.
“I know I can,” I said, though the truth was that I didn’t know how to trust anyone aside from Meri with my stories. And the only reason I trusted Meri was because she’d trusted me with a whole lot of secrets first. “But it’s really not a big deal.”
Henry shook his head and pressed his thumb to the space between my brows. “When you’re upset about something, your forehead crinkles right here. It’s different from when you’re focused or annoyed. I see that over here.” He tapped a finger tothe corner of my mouth. “You pop a sweet little dimple when you’re trying to set someone on fire with your eyes.”
“What you’re saying is it’s time for Botox.”
“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking about your bloodlust.” He traced my lips, adding, “You don’t have to tell me a damn thing. But you can. All right?”
I pressed my lips together as I sucked in a breath in another desperate, thrashing attempt at keeping my emotions contained. I stared at the pond as my nose tingled and tears threatened to spill from the corners of my eyes.
We continued down the path while I pulled myself together and, when I was certain my voice wouldn’t crack, I reached for Henry’s hand—all the way, not just half measure bumping and brushing against each other, but a true, proper grip, palm to palm. “Yeah,” I said. “All right.”
Sixteen
Henry
Transplant Surgery Rotation:
Day 3, Week 8
“And I don’t know,man, I just started thinkin’ about when we were younger and everything was, well, fuck, it was simple. I probably sound like a dumb old tool who woke up some morning and realized the good old days were in the rearview. I don’t know. We used to have some fun times, didn’t we? We had a whole lotta fun. Back when we thought we were all grown up. We didn’t know a damn thing, did we? Not that I know much more these days.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear to see how much longer remained on this voicemail from Mason. Looked like I had another two minutes to go. He’d left it while I was in the OR with Dr. Hirano this morning, fixing a blood flow issue on a kidney we transplanted last week. Based on the timing, Mason had probably called on the drive home from his typical weekend trip, yet those outings usually gassed up his energy and optimism.I couldn’t remember him ever coming off an expedition and sounding so down.
“Hazlette.” Fingers snapped in my direction and I jerked my head up from my lunch. Dr. Salas stood in the doorway to the resident work room, hands on her hips. “Let’s go.”
With regret, I abandoned the tacos al pastor, courtesy of Cami, and followed Salas down the hall. She leaned against the wall near the elevators, her focus on her phone.
She didn’t say anything while we traveled up several floors, still busy with her phone, which opened the door for me to wonder what the hell was wrong with Mason these days. I hadn’t heard anything more on Florrie’s request that he leave the wilderness expedition gig behind for something with a traditional schedule. With the time difference and both of us working all hours, we hadn’t touched base beyond a few basic texts every few days confirming we were alive.
Was I allowed to say,Hey, is this marriage sucking out your soul? Because you know you can end it, right?
I was probablyallowedto say it though that didn’t mean I should. There was honesty and then there was the kind of brutal, emotionally decapitating honesty that ended a lifelong friendship.
