“No worries. I was just wrapping up when you came in.”
“You heard me?”
“Oh yeah. I hear everything.”
My stomach flutters. Not everything, I hope.
“Was that a patient?”
Van nods. “Yeah, I had a message that he wanted to talk to me. He came to me six months ago with some serious anger issues, but after a few rough meetings, he decided he’d rather be happy, so he’s been doing the hard work to get better.”
I sit next to Van. “That must be hard, dealing with so much as a young person.”
“It is. He’s been through a lot with his family life, but he’s in a stable place now.”
“I bet it’s rewarding for you.”
“Definitely. It makes the hard days worth it.”
“I remember those times at the hospital. The moments when you truly improved someone’s life, or stopped their pain, or even just gave them some hope made it easier to get through the days when that didn’t happen.”
He squeezes my hand. “Do you miss it?”
“Yes and no. Sometimes I miss the fast-paced energy of it, and I had some great colleagues, but most days I was running ragged and barely had any time to spend with people before I was pushed to the next patient. And, of course, I saw a lot of suffering. Some of it I couldn’t do anything about.”
“Relatable.”
“I can imagine. I know you have to maintain confidentiality and everything, but if you ever need to talk through something, you can trust me.”
He searches my eyes for a moment before smiling. “I know. Thank you.”
I rise from the couch. “I’ll just change and then we can grab some lunch.”
“Perfect.”
I walk back to my bedroom thinking about all my favorite places to eat that he’s never been to, but I land on a place wewent too many times to count—an old diner near campus that makes the greasiest burgers and the best pie. I wonder if he’d like the trip down memory lane.
After throwing on a graphic tee and running my fingers through my hair to loosen the gel, I return to the living room where Van is hunched over his phone, intently studying the screen.
“Everything okay?”
He looks up and closes out his phone screen. “Yeah. I was looking at pictures of my work building. It’s bad.”
“At least no one was there.”
“For sure.” He stands, smiling. “Ready?”
“Yes, but hear me out.”
“Okay?”
“Wanna go to Dani’s Diner?”
His face lights up. “It’s still there?”
“Yep. Even had a small renovation about five or six years ago. It’s still kind of a dump, but it’s a clean dump.”
“Hell yeah, I’m in.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders as we walk to the garage. “I know I’ll pay for it later. I’m not in my twenties anymore.”
