Take What You Want (13 page)

He should have brought the damn things with him yesterday when they’d gone fishing, but he’d lost his nerve and left them in the car. After a tense ride out to the campsite, during which Josh had assiduously managed to avoid talking about how Ellen had shown up in their driveway at the crack of dawn, they’d headed to the lake. For hours, he’d sat there, fishing pole in hand, avoiding talking about his plans for school.

But he hadn’t been able to avoid his thoughts. Thoughts about Ellen, about that god-awful look on her face when he’d told her that he knew her secret. About how it had felt to kiss her one last time with at least slightly fewer lies of omission between them.

Thoughts about school and his life. About his future.

From the moment Ellen had said she wanted more, they’d all become intertwined, anyway.

He patted his pocket and turned away from the car. The campsite was pretty much broken down. He helped his dad pick up the last few things and douse the fire, then headed back to the car to grab their poles. They hauled what they’d need down the path to where their boat was docked, and before long, they were out there in the middle of that smooth, blue water.

He gave himself over to the ritual of baiting and casting and waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

His dad was uncharacteristically silent. Before it was even lunch, he cracked open the cooler and passed Josh a beer. Josh took it without hesitation, popped the top and took a long draw. It wasn’t as cold as they’d been the day before, but it was all right.

Finally, his dad cleared his throat. When he spoke, it was with an emotional edge to his voice Josh barely recognized. He turned to Josh and set his beer down, then looked away. “Can’t help thinking this could be the last year we do this.”

God, Josh was a shit son. It hadn’t even occurred to him. All the unusual silences they’d shared all weekend suddenly came into focus, and his own throat got tight, his chest filling with something heavy. No matter what happened, life was going to change, and soon. It was scary. And exciting.

And he wanted so badly for his dad to be happy with his decision.

“Been meaning to talk to you about that,” Josh croaked. “About next year.”

His father’s tone evened out, his calm returning as they came around to what he probably thought was familiar territory. He reached out and patted Josh’s knee. “Don’t worry, son. I know you’ll hear back soon.”

“Actually…” Josh wiped a sudden sweat from his brow and looked out over the water. “Actually, I have heard.”

“What?” His dad started, turning so abruptly the motion echoed in the rocking of the boat. “You— When?”

“A while ago. Listen, Dad, could you calm down?”

His dad’s face fell, but his eyes lit with fire. “If they didn’t… We’ll fight it. I still have some connections, you know. Your old man’s not completely useless.”

The last words echoed, and Josh blinked. When he looked up again, he saw something completely different from what he’d seen just a minute ago. His dad looked…
old
. And disappointed.

But not in Josh.

Maybe nothing was what it seemed.

“Dad.” With more confidence than he ever mustered in these situations, he forced a smile and rapped his fingertips against the side of the boat, his reassurance burning in his chest. “Of course you’re not useless. Just listen for a minute, okay?”

His dad dry-washed his face and planted his elbows on his knees. Josh was just working up the courage to say the words he’d rehearsed so many times, but his dad straightened and held his hand up. “Just know…whatever happened.” He swallowed hard and put his hand on the wheel of his rod. “Your mother and I are so proud of you. We’ll figure something out.”

Josh’s heart leaped, but he tried to force it back down into place. “Just remember you said that,” he muttered under his breath. Sitting forward in his chair, he reached into the gap in his jacket and ran his fingers over the edges of the papers there for luck. At the last second, he decided not to pull them out, though. Instead, he faced his dad.

He heard Ellen’s voice in his ear, reminding him that this was
his
life, and that he had to do what he thought was right.

Without another second’s hesitation, he blurted out, “I don’t want to go to medical school, Dad.”

A hundred emotions passed across his father’s features, and for a brief second, Josh cursed himself for doing this here, out in the middle of nowhere. He couldn’t have waited until they were close to emergency responders?

What was his dad’s cholesterol again?

“You—you don’t—”

“Breathe, Dad. Breathe. And hear me out.”

His dad’s voice rose in volume and pitch, and his face grew steadily redder. “Hear you out?”

“Just listen.” Josh closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over the past year. And medicine just isn’t where my heart is. I don’t want to be looking at blood and guts for the rest of my life or telling people they’re going to die.”

“It’s not all that.”

Josh barreled on. “Even the healing part of it. I don’t want to be beholden to insurance companies and lawyers.” He looked at his father meaningfully. “Or be forced out just because I did what I thought was right.”

It was probably just as well his dad’s face had gotten so red. That way, when the blood drained from his cheeks, it left him looking normal instead of ashen. “Josh, don’t. It’s not about that.”

“I know.” He sighed. “But it’s enough of it. My heart’s not in it. I don’t know if it ever was.”

For a minute, his father didn’t respond except to lean back into his seat, hand over his eyes. “So that’s it? You’ve made your decision?”

“I have.”

He moved his hand and peered at Josh with eyes that looked even older and more exhausted. “And do you have a plan for what you intend to do instead?”

Josh’s pulse picked up again. “I do, actually.”

His dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me it doesn’t involve traipsing around Europe or some other such nonsense.”

As tempting as that was, Josh shook his head. “No.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out the packet of letters. He peeled the top one off and held his breath as he handed it over.

His dad didn’t speak as he read. Josh sat there, ready to go out of his skin as he waited, until finally his dad lifted his eyes. “Chemistry?”

“Yup.”

His brows furrowed slightly, but otherwise, his expression was maddeningly neutral. “You’re going to use your degree.”

“That’s the plan.”

“And this is…” he looked down at the paper and then at Josh, “…a doctoral program. So you’ll still be a doctor at the end of it.”

“Well, a professor, if things work out right.”

For a long, long moment, his father studied him. Finally, one side of his mouth twisted up into a smile. “And how long, precisely, have you been defecating in your pants, worrying about telling me this?”

Josh’s whole body deflated as relief seeped in. “A while. Like, months.”

His dad chuckled and palmed the back of his neck. “And what, exactly, did you think I would do?”

“I don’t know. If you let me live, disinheritance, maybe?”

A more serious expression crept across his father’s face. “Of course you don’t have to be a doctor, Josh.”

“But you—”

“I live my own life. And I saw your gifts. It’s a wonderful career. One I think you would have been outstanding at. But my dreams…” His eyes darkened, but he shook it off, smiling more weakly, but still smiling. “My dreams are my own. And yours are yours.”

Josh let out a hard exhale and dropped his head. “That’s what Ellen told me you’d say.”

“Did she have something to do with this?”

“No. And yes. She helped me work up the courage to tell you, and not to drag my heels on it.”

“Ah. So that’s what all that was about at dinner.”

“Yeah. We had a long talk about that after.”

His father stared off across the water. “A woman who pushes you to follow your own dreams is quite a woman.”

“Ellen’s that and more.” Josh paused, letting his own gaze drift. “She’s not really a waitress, you know.”

His dad raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Well, she is,” Josh admitted. “But she’s also a student. She’s in half my classes.”

That eyebrow rose higher. “But you needed us to pretend you didn’t go there.”

Josh waved his hand dismissively. “It’s a long story. Anyway, she’s pre-med, too.” He paused. “I can’t say that anymore, can I? That I’m pre-med?” He shook his head at himself. “Anyway, she is pre-med. And I think she’s going to med school in Boston.”

His dad tapped the re-folded letter against his knee. “That makes MIT pretty convenient.”

“Very.”

“You’re serious about her, then?”

Josh just nodded. It was too complicated to go into all the ins and outs or to voice his still-lingering fears.

After telling his dad the truth, he was itching to tell her, too. And he was starting to think her promise that it wouldn’t matter might just be real, after all.

His dad laughed. “Your mom thought so.”

“She’s perceptive.”

After a second’s hesitation, his dad added, “She thought you might not be so keen on Harvard Med, either.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Has been begging me to tone it down for months now.” He smirked. “I told her if you didn’t like it, you’d tell me so yourself. Just took you a little longer than I thought it would.” He passed the letter back over. “You’ve got to be yourself, Josh. Stand up for what you want. Live your own life. Give the people in it the chance to surprise you.”

Josh’s face grew warm. “I know.”

“We love you, no matter what. And we’re so proud of you. You know that too, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Josh met his father’s eyes and saw the truth there, the fire in his gaze. “Yeah, I do.”

Deep down, he’d known his parents’ feelings wouldn’t change. He just had to trust in it.

Now he just had to trust in Ellen, too.

Ellen stood just beyond the security line at the airport, a sign in her hand and a smile on her face. Strictly speaking, neither was necessary. The airport in this town was one big swath of asphalt with seven “gates” all leading out onto the same tarmac, and she was one of maybe a dozen people waiting. Her friends would have a hard time
not
finding her. But it had been too much fun making the sign with all of their last names, and the distraction had helped.

As for the smile, her friends probably expected her to be mopey and resentful. Considering they’d abandoned her for the Caribbean for the week, they wouldn’t begrudge her a frown. She was glad to have them back, though. And their return wasn’t the only thing she had to be happy about.

She’d tried not to dwell too much on Josh or their week together. She’d tried not to get her hopes up. But it was impossible. With the air a little clearer between them, his promise to return to her soon still bright in her heart, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him all night—about how he’d looked at her and touched her and taught her how to let herself be touched. And more, she’d thought about how he’d made her feel. Beautiful and capable and strong. Like she could tell him anything. Like she could be herself.

Like she
liked
herself.

Motion behind the security line drew her thoughts back to the present. She rose up onto tiptoes, craning her neck. Finally, three oh-so-welcome faces emerged, and Ellen’s smile grew even wider. She lifted her sign up overhead and could tell the instant her friends spotted it. One of them pointed, and then as a unit they squealed and picked up their pace.

Ellen bounced as she waited for them to make it past the TSA agents. As soon as they were clear, she threw herself at Nicole and then Maria. “You’re all so tan! Did you have an amazing time?”

“The best.” Her friend Carly held up a bag before hugging her, too. “We brought you stuff.”

Old Ellen would have demurred and said they didn’t have to. New Ellen rubbed her hands together. “Awesome.”

As a unit, they made their way to the baggage claim. As they waited for the creaky carousel to jolt to life, they regaled her about beaches and margaritas and cabana boys. More than once, when any one of them got too excited, another would give a scolding look, and then all three would glance at Ellen sympathetically. Ellen waved them off. “Please. I want every detail.”

She did, too. And she was itching to give them every single one of her own.

Three hours later, Ellen sat on the floor of her apartment, her second glass of wine in her hand, eyes on the TV. One of the girls had hooked her camera up to it, and they’d been showing her their vacation photos. At long last, the image of a beautiful beach and smiling faces faded to black.

“Is that it?” Ellen asked.

Maria frowned. “I guess so.”

“About time.” Carly spread her legs out in front of her. “I can’t believe you took seven hundred pictures.”