Jessica Sankiewicz - If Only We

“It will be in a minute.” We walk downstairs into the basement, which looks more like a gaming room. There's a group of boys playing a football video game in front of a big-screen television. A couple of girls sit on the floor watching their boyfriends play. On the other side is a serious game of table tennis and an even more serious poker game. “Here we are,” he says, looking at a couch. He lets go of my elbow and we sit down. He glances back at the stairs. “Yes, this is much better.”

“What happened?”

He shakes his head. “I’m trying to avoid Heidi.”

Did he say what I think he said? Wait, if he's avoiding Heidi, why would he have been kissing her last time? There is only one thing different: me.

My skin tingles in delight.

“Why do you want to avoid her?” I ask.

He covers his face for a second with his hand. “She's been relentless in attempting to win me back. She told one of her friends she was going to corner me tonight. I saw her coming around the side of the house. I'll be hiding for the rest of the night.”

I frown. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I brought this on myself for even dating her to begin with.” He sighs and shakes his head. “Moving on. So, tell me…what's up with the nursing?”

How do I explain this without sounding crazy? “I've spent all my life working toward that goal. It's like a trophy my mom placed on a pedestal. It has been sitting there all these years, waiting for me to pick it up. Now that I'm standing right in front of it I feel...overwhelmed. I don't know if it's the obligation or if it's me.”

“And that scares you, doesn’t it?”

“Definitely.”

He stares at the wall for a second, thoughtful, then brings his attention back to me. “Let me ask you this: If nursing wasn’t on the table, what else do you think you would want to do?”

I blink a couple times. I have never been asked what I want, nor have I thought about it. “Um...well…” I look down at my hands. “I’m not sure. I never imagined doing anything else. I was never allowed to imagine doing anything else. I just did what was expected and left it at that.”

“I see. How does your dad feel?”

“He never objected to it. Then again, he never promoted it either.” The whole time I stayed with him, he didn’t mention nursing. “Maybe he wanted me to think about what else was out there. If that were the case, it would've been nice if he would have just said so. Maybe he was afraid of upsetting my mom.” That would make two of us then.

Chevy leans forward. “Here’s what I think. You need to determine what it is you want out of life. I got lucky that the career my dad has is something I enjoy doing too. You need to figure out what you enjoy and find a career to suit who you are, whether it is what your mom wants or not.”

I sigh. “I know you’re right, but I don’t want to disappoint my mom.”

“I don’t think it’s possible for you to disappoint her.”

I smile and chuckle. “Easy for you to say.” Looking him in the eye, I say, “Thanks. I appreciate the advice.”

“Anytime.” He points a finger at me. “Just remember what this means.”

“And what’s that?” I ask, tilting my head with a smile.

“Next time it will be my turn.” He takes a swig from his drink. In the middle of his sip, his eye catches something that makes him stop. “Uh-oh.”

I turn my head to find Heidi standing at the bottom of the stairs. Her bleach-blonde hair matches the hot pink bikini top over her white short shorts. I remember the nice sandy blonde color she used to have at the beginning of high school. She was actually a very sweet girl growing up. Then she started to hang with the cheerleading girls and everything changed.

I frown. Why did she have to come down here? Before either of us can hide, she spots Chevy and begins to saunter over with a sway in her hips.

Chevy is obviously very bothered with her presence. He pleads in a whisper, “Please, help me get away from her.”

My heart swells with hope. “No problem.” I bite my lip. How can we get away from her? “I have an idea. Finish your drink.” I drink the rest of mine and he does likewise.

Heidi sits right next to Chevy as if she belongs there. “Hey you,” she says sweetly. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Chevy forces a smile. “Hey.”

She looks suspiciously at me. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Just stuff,” I say. “We were just about to go refill our drinks.”

She frowns dramatically. “But Chevy, I was hoping that we could, you know, talk.” She slings her arm around his shoulder.

When she uses the word “talk” it doesn't sound like she wants to just talk. She's only been here for less than a minute and this has already gone too far. Chevy wants me to save him. Time to go to Plan B.

With a deep breath, I take his hand in mine. His eyes widen. I give Heidi a sweet smile. “Actually, we were planning on heading upstairs to find a more private place to, you know, talk.” I raise my eyebrows at Chevy.

He nods with a smirk, now on the same page as me. “That’s right. Come on, Adrienne.” We stand up and walk away, still holding hands. I glance back at her just in time to catch the dirtiest look I have ever been given. I hold in a laugh.

He keeps holding my hand until we reach the kitchen. When he lets go, he wraps his arms around me and spins me around. I can’t help but giggle. “Thank you!” he says with a laugh. He places me back on my feet. “You’re a genius. Although, she may spread rumors about the two of us.”

I don’t mind. I wonder if he does. “She probably would have anyway, just seeing us talking.”

“That’s true. In any case, I owe you one big time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. You can start with freshening my drink.” I hand over my cup.

He says, “For you, anything.” My heart flutters.

And doesn’t stop.

River’s Bend Nursing Home sits slightly off a country road just outside of town. Ornamental pear trees line the drive until you reach the parking lot. The building itself has the appearance of a house, only much larger. The evergreen bushes that surround the perimeter are trimmed weekly. Each window has a flower box filled with different types—marigolds, pansies, geraniums, or whatever is available. The place has a quaint appeal to it, making it feel more like a home than a nursing home. It is a beacon of hope for those who stay and a comfort to those who visit.

So, why am I hesitating to go inside?

My mom left a note for me on the counter by the toaster this morning. It said, “I cannot express how proud I am of you, Adrienne. Have a wonderful first day! I love you, Mom.”

I close my eyes and sigh. I want to believe what Chevy said last night, about me not being able to disappoint my mom. Considering her dramatic reaction to my choice to not do this the first time, I can’t help but doubt it. I get out of my car and walk in through the double doors.

The receptionist, who is all smiles, sees me. “You must be Adrienne.” I nod. “I’m Denise. Just keep walking down this hall, and take a left. There’s a sign in front of the room you need to go in.”

I nod again and say, “Thank you,” as I head down the hall. This isn’t the first time I’ve been here. There were a couple family members who lived here years ago. The appearance on the inside hasn’t changed—the pale orange walls and wooden-framed artwork remains as I remember it.

So, could somebody please tell me why my stomach is starting to do flip-flops?

I pass an older woman in a wheelchair. She is sitting in front of her room staring into space. A nurse comes out of the room and pushes her back in. I keep walking. The sterile smell hits me suddenly, despite being inside for at least a minute. It starts to consume every breath I take in. I hear the sound of monitors and machines beep and pulse, drifting in and out of some rooms. With every step I take, my stomach continues to flip.

By the time I reach the end of the hall, I begin to feel dizzy. I stop and put a clammy hand on the wall to steady myself. A wave of nausea comes over me. I've been here before—it's unmistakable.

I'm going to faint.

My heart is racing. I need to calm down but I don’t know how.

I hear footsteps come closer, followed by a concerned voice. “Adrienne? Are you okay?” I glance up and see Aunt Faith. She has her brown hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Her brows furrow as she comes closer. “Oh sweetie,” she says, touching my forehead. “You look like you’re about to pass out.” I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. “Here,” she says, taking my arm and slinging it over her shoulder. “Let’s get you somewhere you can sit down.”

“Okay,” I squeak out.

She leads me off to what appears to be a break room. She sits me down at the table, pours a glass of water, and sits down next to me. “Drink some. It will make you feel better.”

I reluctantly drink a little. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She pauses, pressing her lips together. “What happened? Did you skip breakfast?” I shake my head. “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t know. I was fine until I got here. Then I started to feel dizzy and my heart was racing as I came down the hall.”

“I see.” She leans back in her chair. “Adrienne, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you really want to be a nurse?”

I stiffen. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m asking because I believe you just had a panic attack.”

My eyes widen. I've been panicking off and on since I started to relive the summer. I chalked it up to just that. What if it’s not? “But I have to be a nurse.”

She shakes her head. “No, you don’t. Not if you don’t want to be.”

“You of all people should understand why I have to be a nurse.”

She sighs and leans back in her chair. “You’re right. I do understand. But I didn’t ask your mom if you should be a nurse. I asked you. Do you want to be a nurse?”

I think about it for a moment. Do I want to be a nurse? I envision myself as a nurse, like the one I saw pushing the woman in the wheelchair. Try as I might, I can’t see it. How is this possible? “I don’t know if I do anymore, and if I don’t know it probably means deep down that I don’t.” I groan. “Why is this happening now? After all these years of working toward this goal, how could I not want it anymore?” I put my head in my hands. “This is just awful. Especially after all the strings you pulled for me to be able to do this.”

I feel her hand on my shoulder. “Look. Don’t worry about that. Everyone goes through this. I didn’t become a nurse’s aide until I wanted to be one. Maybe it will be the same for you. Maybe two years from now you'll want it. Or maybe you'll never want it. This job isn’t for just anyone, you know. It’s the kind of dirty, hands-on job a lot of people shy away from.”

I think about the smells encasing me only a moment ago. I consider the things I would have to clean up. It causes me to shudder and the nausea flickers again. “What should I do? My mom is expecting me to do this. I told her I wanted this. I’m supposed to be going to college in the fall.” What will happen when she finds out?

She tilts my chin up, looking me in the eye. “The way I see it, you have two choices: stay or go. Either stay and carry on like this never happened, or you go and figure out a new plan.”

That simple, huh? Stay or go. I would hate to give it up after all this time. As much as I want to make my mom happy, I don’t want this. The thought of leaving it all behind both thrills and frightens me. The possibilities are endless, but what will I tell my mom? I already know how she will react. Unless…

Unless restarting had nothing to do with pleasing my mom—maybe it wasn’t my destiny to do this. And if it wasn’t my destiny, then there's something else out there. Something else that I need to search out. I can’t search it out if I stay here.

“What are you going to do?” Faith asks me.

There is only one answer. “Go.”

* * *

I drive to Lyndsay’s house. I figure it will be the safest place to hide out until I need to tell my mom. If I go home now, what if Maurice comes home early? The chance of this is slim, but still. He would tell my mom and she'll know something is up. That wouldn't be a good start to the conversation I need to have. As far as that conversation goes, what do I say? I can’t be straightforward and say straight out of the gate that I'm not going to be a nurse. Perhaps if I start with the panic attack, she'll go easy on me.