Between You and Me Page 26

  Asa pressed his work-worn hands flat on the table. “Let us pray,” he said in his gruff voice.

  Jonah regarded the prisoners with a steady gaze. Hannah hugged herself around the middle as she did the same. Over the years, they had learned to look their parents’ murderers in the eye. Caleb had to wonder what that cost them, what it took out of their souls.

  Asa cleared his throat. “May the Lord awaken in us a hunger and thirst for righteousness. Teach us to act according to the will of God . . .” The familiar words seemed edged by darkness, delivered in Asa’s flat, severe tones. The inmates were quiet, probably not listening. Probably wondering when they could eat their treats from the vending machine.

  After Asa finished, Anthony eyed Jonah’s arm. “’Sup with that?” he asked.

  “I had an accident,” Jonah said. “My arm got cut off.”

  “Sucks for you.”

  “Yah.”

  “My parents said to come hungry tonight,” Reese told Leroy and Cheryl. “That’s all I know.”

  “Your parents rock,” Cheryl said. “I still have impure thoughts about the chocolate silk pie they served last time we came to dinner.” Since she and Leroy had become a couple, Reese had brought them to her parents’ place a few times.

  Although she remembered every moment of the night she’d gone to her folks’ with Caleb, it seemed like a dream now. Or as if it had happened to someone else.

  In the moments following the attack, neither had spoken of the incident. There was nothing to say. Even the police hadn’t wanted to hear about it. Reese had been trying to explain to the dispatcher what had happened when Caleb had gently taken the phone from her hand and said, “Everything is fine. There’s no emergency.” And then he’d hung up.

  She had tried the police again that night, certain they needed to take action. When it was clear to the overworked guy on the phone that no one had been hurt, no property damaged, and no suspects present, he had invited her to file a report, but didn’t encourage it.

  “Let it go,” Caleb had said. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

  Back at her apartment, she’d cleaned his abrasions. “I’m so sorry that happened. And so grateful you knew how to handle yourself.”

  “I didn’t know. I just reacted.”

  “Well, those thugs are in a lot worse shape than you.”

  “Are they?”

  “I heard breaking bones.” She saw the torment in his eyes. The Amish were famous for being pacifists, for turning the other cheek. Turning away from a fight. But Caleb had not hesitated. Given what had happened to his brother and sister-in-law, his distrust of English ways made sense. So did the rage with which he’d fought back.

  Caleb’s voice had been quiet and firm, though filled with regret, when he’d told her, “I’m taking Jonah home.”

  The outside world had brought heartbreak to his family. She knew she would never convince him that the world wasn’t always horrible. Her assurances would surely ring hollow after the attack.

  After Caleb and Jonah had left the city, everything had gone back to business as usual—friends who were in the medical field, the endless chase for the right residency placement, untold hours of studying and hospital work.

  Except that nothing had felt like business as usual since then.

  “I don’t know what’s on the menu,” she told Cheryl, “but the lack of information makes me nervous, especially when it’s an invitation from my parents. Especially on the evening before the Match.”

  “Are you nervous?” Leroy asked.

  She smiled a greeting at the doorman of her parents’ place. “Nervous about the most important step in my career so far? Nervous about getting the brass ring I’ve been reaching for since I was in utero? Nah.”

  “All right,” he said, stepping aside to let her and Cheryl precede him into the elevator. “Dumb question. You should be totally confident, though. You’re one of the best med students I’ve ever met.”

  Her stomach churned as the luxurious elevator whisked them up to the penthouse. The all-important process of finding a residency was finally at its end. The decision was out of her hands now. Letting her nerves get the better of her would not change anything. Except . . .

  “I did something,” she said faintly.

  Leroy frowned. “What?” He must have recognized the queasy expression on her face, because he grabbed her by the shoulders. “Reese, what did you do?”

  “Breathe,” said Cheryl, a respiratory specialist.

  “It was—”

  “Surprise!”

  As the elevator doors whisked open, a group of people were clustered in the foyer to welcome Reese. In the middle of everyone were her parents, beaming with pride. Surrounding them were both sets of grandparents along with various aunts and uncles, a few cousins, colleagues of the Powells, and some of the other students in her program. Her parents’ lawyer, Domenico Falco, was present as well, a silver fox in a bespoke suit.

  “Whoa,” Reese said, pressing her hand to her chest. In spite of everything, she felt a genuine rush of pleasure. “Surprise is right. Mom, Dad, you got me. Totally.”

  A live band on the veranda started playing “Let’s Get It Started.”

  “Nice,” Leroy said, and swung Cheryl into his arms as everyone moved outside and started dancing.

  Reese stepped back and beamed at her parents. “You guys are crazy, you know that? This is all way too much.” She greeted her grandparents with genuine pleasure. Their love and pride filled her with affection for her family. She could practically feel the excitement emanating from them. She’d screwed up. She was sure of it. They were going to hate what she had done.

  “It’s not too much,” her mother pointed out. “No one has worked harder for this residency placement than you have. We’ve all seen it, Reese.”

  “We couldn’t be prouder,” said her father. “Come on, baby girl. Dance with me.”

  On the way to the veranda, warmed by propane heaters and lit with colorful tiki torches, Reese managed to slam a tequila shot, served in a laboratory beaker. “You know I hate surprise parties,” she said.

  “That’s why we put this together. Because you weren’t expecting it.”

  “Hang on a sec,” she said before they joined the dancing. “I need another shot.” But as the fiery tequila slid down her throat, she knew it wouldn’t be enough to quiet her nerves.

  In the middle of the dancing, Trent Withers, a cardiothoracic resident she’d worked with on a past rotation, stole her away from her father. “You come from a family of rock stars, don’t you?” he asked.

  Trent was all teeth, perfect veneered teeth. The moment the rotation had ended, he’d started asking her out. On the surface, he was the ideal match for her—a gifted physician with a fine educational pedigree and a bright future.

  “You know,” he said, as he pulled her into a close embrace, “I always wanted to go out with you. And I always knew you would say yes one of these days.”

  “Trent—”

  “I don’t think that anymore,” he said.

  She tried to be polite as she leaned away from him. “Okay, then . . .”

  “It’s not going to happen one of these days,” he concluded.

  She breathed a sigh of relief.

  “It’s going to happen tonight,” he said.

  Oh, brother.

  “I like your confidence,” she said, wondering if his teeth really were veneered or naturally perfect. “But it’s still a no, Trent. You’re a good doctor and teacher, but outside the hospital, we’re not a match.”

  He laughed and held her more firmly. He didn’t grip hard enough to alarm her . . . yet the suggestion was there. “I have a different diagnosis.”

  “Dude, you’re putting me on the spot,” she said. “See, right now, I have to decide whether to pretend this is all good fun for me, or to knee you in the groin and cause drama at this super-special party my parents are throwing for me on the eve of Match Day. And just so
you know, I’m not going to pick option one.”

  He lowered his hand to her butt. “I know you, Powell. You’re not going to fuck with your mommy and daddy on their big night.”

  “I was thirteen when I earned my self-defense badge in Girl Scouts,” she said, keeping a pleasant, social smile on her face as she pressed closer, maneuvering him toward one of the tiki torches. “You could take my word for it that I still remember my moves. Or you could call my bluff and find out for yourself.”

  “You’re cute, Powell,” he said, giving her butt a squeeze.

  At the same moment, she pressed him back toward the tiki torch. “And your pants are on fire, Dr. Withers. Literally.”

  He yelped and jumped away, swatting at his pants. No one but Reese heard him over the music. She quickly walked away and told someone from the catering staff one of the guests might need some water.

  “Having fun?” her mother asked, handing her another drink.

  “So much fun,” Reese said.

  Domenico, the lawyer, handed her a multipage document. “Your folks had me draw this up. It’s a partnership agreement with their practice. Congratulations, young lady.”

  Oh boy, she thought. “Oh boy,” she said. “I don’t know what to say. Isn’t this about seven years premature?”

  “We have another surprise for you.” Her mother brought her over to a seating area to join her father.

  “You guys,” Reese said. “Stop it.”

  Her father handed her a large, flat envelope. Reese set down her drink and opened it to find a glossy trifold brochure for a high-rise called the Lofts. She frowned. “What’s this?”

  “Unit 4B. Say hello to your new home.”

  “What?” Reese felt nauseated. “This is a complex in Baltimore. What the hell makes you think I’ll end up in Baltimore?”

  “Because that’s where your top residency match is,” her father said. “Look, it’s got secure parking, a Whole Foods in the complex, and—”

  “Jesus Christ, there’s no way you guys can know where I’ll match tomorrow.” Then she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Or is there? Please say you haven’t heard anything.”

  “Of course not. The Match is strictly monitored. But we know you, sweetheart. You deserve this. The sale isn’t final yet, but it’s all in place. It’ll be one thing you won’t have to worry about when you move. We haven’t signed the papers yet—”

  “Don’t sign the papers,” Reese blurted out.

  “Why not?” her mother asked. “We looked at all the options, and this is by far the best—”

  “I’m sure it’s absolutely perfect.” Reese wished she could be as thrilled as her parents looked, but instead, she wanted to curl up and die. These people had organized her entire life for her, and she should be grateful. Yet her parents’ hopes and expectations felt like a heavy weight. She had always been their trophy daughter, the one whose achievements added luster to their reputation. And like a trophy, she was hollow inside.

  “Trust me, it is,” her father said. “Honey, it’s impossible to find a better place than this.”

  “You’re probably right. And if you want it for an investment, I wouldn’t blame you, because it looks spectacular. But don’t get it on my behalf.” She took a breath and looked at their eager, proud, loving faces. “I won’t be living there. I won’t match at Hopkins.”

  “Nonsense. Of course you will. It’s exactly what the Match is all about—putting the right candidates in the right residency programs.”

  “I understand that, Mom. But . . . I did something,” she said quietly.

  “You certainly did,” said her mother. “We couldn’t be prouder.”

  Reese stared at the glossy brochure until the images blurred. “Please listen. Mom, Dad, I couldn’t ask for a better family. A better education. A better anything. All of this—everything you’re done for me—is amazing. But I need for you to listen. Please.” She wished she hadn’t thrown back those tequila shots, because now they were coming up to haunt her.

  “You’re white as a sheet,” said her father.

  “It’s a lot to take in, I know,” said her mother.

  “I changed my rank order list,” she told them, blurting out the news all at once.

  They looked at each other, then at her. “You changed . . .”

  “My ranking. At the very last minute in February, just before the certification deadline, I picked a different program for my top residency match.”

  “What?” Her mother leaned forward, grabbed her hands. “Hopkins isn’t your number one pick?”

  “No. I chose something else. And I’m hoping like hell I get it.”

  “And you’re telling us this now?” Her father rubbed his jaw as if she’d hit him there.

  She took another deep breath. Cautioned herself not to go into defensive mode. She tried to distance herself from the burble of music and laughter out on the terrace. She tried to quiet the noise in her head. “I wanted to make my decision without any input. I didn’t want to be talked out of it. That doesn’t mean I failed to give it plenty of thought. It came down to deciding how I want to spend not just the next three years, but the rest of my career. And what I want is to work in rural medicine. My top rank is a regional medical center in New Hope.”

  For a few moments, her parents said nothing. She gave them time to absorb what she’d just said. The expected questions swirled around her in a fog. She had no answer other than “This is what I want.”

  She gave her mother’s hands a squeeze and let go. “During third year, I went to a rural health retreat in West Virginia to observe what a family physician in a rural setting—”

  “You hated that rotation,” her mother interrupted. “I remember you saying how much you hated it.”

  “No, I said it was hard, not that I hated it. In fact, the hard parts were the ones I liked best, the ones that made me feel like the doctor I want to be. One minute, you’re delivering a baby, and the next, treating the infant’s great-grandparents. It was incredibly challenging, but I’m not afraid of a challenge.”

  “Believe me, you’re going to be challenged in the program at Hopkins,” her father said.

  “Of course I would be. Dad, I know what I’m passing up. I know.”

  “I can’t believe you never said anything to us.”

  “I’m sorry. All my life, I’ve depended on you for . . . God, for everything. And you’ve been fantastic. I owe you everything. Then last fall, I came face-to-face with a truth I kept trying to bury for a long time—I realized I didn’t want the life I’ve been aiming for all these years.”

  “Reese, we can see you’re upset,” her father said. “Why didn’t you talk to us about this? We could have helped you clarify your goals.”

  “That’s just it—you’ve been doing that all my life. And it’s been wonderful. You’ve been wonderful. But the pediatric surgery specialty—that’s your dream. Not mine. I didn’t even know what my dream was, because I kept it hidden. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

  “You should know that it’s not about disappointing us,” her mother objected. “We simply want a wonderful practice and a wonderful life for you.”

  “Thank you. If the match comes through tomorrow, that’s exactly what I’ll have. And if I’m wrong, then I’ll only have myself to blame.” Her heart skipped a beat. “I don’t think I’m wrong. There are just four places in the program, but I really do think I’ll match.”

  “I’ve never even heard of that regional . . . whatever,” her mother said, looking mystified. “And New Hope? Isn’t that some village in the Poconos? Whose program is it? Who is the director?”

  “There are two preceptors—Penelope Lake and Mose Shrock. I’ve met with them, and I want to learn from them.”

  Her father set his jaw in a grim line. “You haven’t thought this through. I want you to talk to my buddy Paul Medford. He’s the best career counselor I know. He’ll help you get to the bottom of your motivation and figure out what’s r
eally driving you.”

  “I know what my motivation is,” she said.

  “Does it have big shoulders and speak with an Amish accent?” her mother asked.

  Reese gasped. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “I want you to be honest with us—and with yourself. Do you really want to practice in the back of beyond, or is this your way of rebelling against us?”

  “I know what I’m signing up for,” Reese said, hating the quaver she heard in her own voice. “I found something I love, and I’m not going to stupidly let it get away.”

  “Sweetheart, we just don’t want to see you get hurt. We don’t want you throwing away your talents and your first-class education on working at a walk-in clinic.”

  “Dad, that’s not fair. Not only that—it’s insulting.”

  “My mind is still blown,” her mother said, reaching for a glass. “The program at Hopkins is your ticket to a life in medicine most people only dream about.”

  “I guess I’m not most people. I hate that I’ve let you down, and I love you for caring so much, but I won’t change my mind. If I match with the New Hope residency, it will be exactly what I want.”

  “And if you don’t match?”

  “I’ll go with the next one on my rank order list.”

  Her parents exchanged a glance. “Then we’d better hope you don’t match with the country doc program.”

  15

  Caleb peeled off his shirt and gave a whoop as he ran down the hill to the swimming hole. He flung himself off the edge of the bank and plunged into the deep eddy of clear water. The creek was cold, but it felt wonderful on the sweltering June day.

  He shot to the surface and shook the water from his eyes. Jonah and his buddy Samuel stood teetering on the bank, their skinny bodies silhouetted against the summer sky.

  “Come on in,” Caleb called, his voice echoing against the steep sides of the eddy. He paddled backward, treading water. “You’ll forget you were ever sweating like a pair of rented mules.”

  Jonah and Samuel looked at each other, then shucked their breeches and jumped together, their limbs splayed like falling starfish. They hit the water willy-nilly, creating a fount of diamond droplets. Then both came up laughing.