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“What happened?” I ask him. Not mad anymore, just confused and a whole lot curious.
Why would my dad keep something like that from me for so long too? He’s always ranted about how much he can’t stand the great Dr. Mark Love, but he’s never said why.
“We were in medical school together,” Mark sighs, thumbing the crease in the photo as if he can heal the rift with his surgeon’s hands.
“Your dad and I go back way before that though, state boy’s home. But I’m not sure if you knew,” Mark says quietly
I feel my head pumping a nod.
“I knew my dad had a tough upbringing, that he was in state care,” I tell Mark who’s nodding with reflective thought.
“Not too tough,” he smiles. “Just lonely. Your dad and I were more like brothers. The closest thing to family either of us ever had, and not something I thought would ever-” he says, breaking off.
Keeping the photo in his hand, but putting the frame on the side table, Mark leads me into the living room and sits down with me on the couch.
“Your dad was going to be a surgeon too, we had our chosen fields once we both won scholarships. He was always the smarter out of the both of us,” he adds, frowning down at the photo.
I suddenly feel like maybe I don’t want to know what happened.
Seeing how much hurt is on Mark’s face, I know it’s not gonna be a story with a happy ending because it ends with the story of my life so far.
Probably with the reason my dad’s so bitter at his core, especially when it comes to Mark who I never even knew was friends with my dad until today.
“That lake,” Mark smiles. “We went there every chance we got when we weren’t in school. Used to drive up on Fridays and then back late on Sunday night so we never missed class.”
Without him having to even say anything, I know something happened at that lake.
My dad’s next biggest phobia apart from Dr. Mark Love or insurance companies is water.
Like, lake-sized bodies of water.
“I did what I had to do,” Mark says suddenly, taking a sharp breath of air in through his teeth.
“It wasn’t like I had a choice. It was either move your dad or let him drown. What was I supposed to do?” he asks the photograph like he’s talking to my dad himself.
“What do you mean?” I ask, my hand clutching at his forearm, dying to know now.
The thought of anything life-threatening involving my dad is disturbing.
But Mark explains, he was my dad’s savior more than once in this life.
“We used to do this thing… dive off a ledge that was right above where the water pooled. It was like a natural rip, really strong currents, an undertow,” he explains.
“Your dad and I were young, fit, and strong. A little stupid when it came to risks, but hey,” he says.
I feel my throat tighten as I struggle to swallow, somehow just knowing where this is all leading, even though I don’t know the details.
It’s something my dad’s certainly never spoken about but I have no reason to doubt Mark either, it’s like he’s reliving the event as he tells me.
“Your dad jumped, even after I told him not to. It was way deeper and stronger in the water than any other time we’d done this. But your dad being your dad, relished the chance to show me he was a better swimmer as well as a better brain.”
Mark’s pause is almost unbearable, and I relax my grip on him, understanding he needs to take his time if he even still wants to tell me at all.
“…So, your dad dives in anyway. I watch him go under, waiting for him to come back up but he doesn’t.”
“But he did,” I hear myself counter. “He must have.”
Mark nods slowly.
“Yeah, well… Me being me, I jumped right on in after him when he didn’t come back up,” he says gravely. “Could’ve been two bodies up there instead of two buddies.”
His serious tone registers with me, but I still don’t know why my dad would bear a grudge against this man.
I still don’t understand how-
“I found him, down there,” Mark drawls. “Blue as bathwater with his head under a log…”
I hear myself gasp, gripping Mark tighter by his arm again.
“What else was I supposed to do? I yanked him outta there. Dragged him up to the shore and resuscitated him. I did my job,” he adds defiantly.
“But?” I ask, venturing towards the unhappy part of the story.
“But nothing,” he says firmly. “Your dad would’ve died and I did what anyone would do given the chance.”
I feel a shiver run through me, not feeling like he’s told me the whole story, but knowing enough to understand how Mark saved my dad both then and now.
