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And you’re not getting any younger.
I keep that last part to myself. I have at least a little bit of sense.
My mom is almost seventy and still running her family practice in town. She has a few nurses and physician’s assistants working there as well, but she’s the only doctor. And it’s a heavy load to carry.
“When are you going to retire?” I ask, already expecting the answer to be “when I die.”
“When someone takes over the practice.” She gives me a pointed look.
I stiffen. “Mom…”
“I know, I know.” She holds up her hands in surrender. “I’m not going to push you into anything. But I just want you to thinkabout it. You’re smart, you’re capable, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You could do a lot of good here.”
I shake my head, trying to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach at the thought of staying here forever. “I appreciate the sentiment, Mom. Really, I do. I already have a job, though. And San Antonio is my home.”
“And they let you take nearly a month off work.” She gives me a suspicious look, and I know she knows that I haven’t shared the whole story with her.
I shift uncomfortably, not wanting to bring up the reason behind my sudden leave of absence. But my mom isn’t easily deterred.
“Is everything all right, honey?” she asks, concern etched on her features.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what’s to come. “I needed some time off to deal with some personal stuff.”
“What kind of personal stuff?” she presses, her eyes searching mine.
I hesitate, unsure if I’m ready to share. My mom has such high expectations, and many times in my life I’ve felt like I don’t get to be weak.
“Is it about Dan?” she asks. “Breakups are always hard.”
I blink. That’s right. Dan.
Funny. I’ve barely thought about him since arriving back home.
“No, it’s not Dan.” I smile, though it feels so unnatural. “Don’t worry about it.”
She looks hurt. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
This is new. The mother I grew up with was always too busy taking care of other people to stop and listen to my problems for more than a few minutes.
It’s not that she didn’t care. Being in the same field now myself, I see that she was just laser-focused. Like me.
But now it seems like she’s backpedaling, trying to be Mom of the Year or something.
I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. Talking about Josh and my newfound attraction to him isn’t something I’m ready to share with anyone, especially not my mom.
“Okay, well, just know that I’m here if you need me.” She gives my arm a reassuring squeeze before heading towards the kitchen.
I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the thoughts of Josh. It’s ridiculous to be so drawn to someone who insults me at every turn. But every time I see him, I can’t help but feel a pull towards him.
I glance at my phone and see that it’s almost six. I need to leave for the committee meeting soon. The committee meeting being run by Josh.
I groan inwardly, not looking forward to spending the evening with him. But I can’t deny that there’s a part of me that’s excited to see him again. It’s like a sick game of cat and mouse, and I’m not sure if I’m the cat or the mouse.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I grab my keys and head out the door. The drive to the community center is short, but it feels like an eternity as my mind races with thoughts of Josh.
When I arrive, I take a deep breath and steel myself for what’s to come. As I make my way to the conference room, I hear Josh’s voice coming from inside, and my heart skips a beat.
I push the door open and find him standing at the head of the table, people surrounding him, looking every bit as arrogant as the boy who insulted me at the Truth or Dare game in high school.
