The Fall (3 page)

“Not like
that
. I mean, not yet. We’re good together. He’s so worth it and treats me so well.” It was the first time I had actually admitted it to myself. “Rose, we are so close to our dream and I almost screwed it up.” I exhaled in relief.

“The hell you did. Listen, Dallas, I really like Josh and I would’ve been thrilled to be an aunt. So while I’m relieved for you, I’m a bit disappointed, as well. We’ve already given a ton of time and energy to our careers and they will be even more demanding when we open our practice. So enjoy your personal life too or before you know it we will be rich old maids with nothing to look forward to,” she warned. I raised my brow in response. “Says the girl who hasn’t dated in years.”

“I’m still in med school. There’s my excuse,” she offered quickly, dropping the subject and turning to walk out of the bathroom.

“Oh, no you don’t.” I tugged her arm, stopping her retreat so she was forced to face me. “You can’t keep hiding behind your books or school, either, Rose. David doesn’t deserve your faithfulness. It’s time you broke the seal.” David was Rose’s first and only love. She had dated him all through her first four years of college. Personally, I couldn’t stand him and told her every chance I got. It was no big surprise to me when he let her down in the worst way. Still, it was horrible watching her go through the break up.

“Drop it, Dallas. I’m fine,” she muttered, refusing to meet my eyes.

“He dates you for four years, doesn’t bother to put a ring on it, and then cheats and marries six months later. Yeah, I’ll drop it. I’m pretty sure your vagina’s mourning period was over long ago.”

“You are such a dude, Dallas,” she said, shaking her head back and forth with a grin.

“No, I think like one. It’s much easier, I promise,” I reminded her. “Come on, let’s quit this feelings fest. I’m starving.”

We hurried downstairs to find my parents in their usual kitchen standoff. They were both in their sixties and acted absolutely nothing like the little old people they were becoming. I think that was what I loved about them most.

“Seth, stop it, damn you! This is a pan seared fish, not flambé!” My mother shrieked as she shook her head at my father who was standing at the stove. She held out her hand for the spatula, which he refused to give. “Laura, I have got this! Go set the table or something.”

She glared at his back as she continued. “
I
bought the shit to make it. I planned this dinner. Our babies probably desperately need a home cooked meal and you are burning it!”

“Baby, I love you, but would you please shut the hell up?” He chuckled, digging the spatula in the pan as he tried desperately to hide the fact that he couldn’t separate the burnt fish from it enough to turn it over.

“Damn stubborn ass man, I swear I have never—” She spotted me at the foot of the stairs. “Dallas, come here, baby. Tell your father the fish is burnt!”

“Hey, Daddy.” I smiled at him as I walked over to glance over his shoulder at the fish he had so clearly burnt. “It’s okay, really. I like my fish extra crispy.”

“Hey, angel.” He greeted me with his usual bear hug then kissed my cheek. I had to rip myself out of his hug the way I always did. My mother grabbed a couple of casserole dishes, set them on the table, and ushered for us to sit.

“Anything new going on with you two?” she questioned, looking between Rose and me.

“Five minutes ago I thought I was pregnant with Josh’s baby,” I blurted out as my father dropped the spatula on the kitchen floor, his mouth open in shock.

Great, Dallas, you have officially lost it.

My mother laughed loudly at my father’s reaction. “Seth, she’s almost twenty-eight years old. I’m pretty sure that ship sailed years ago.” My mother chuckled as she gave me the dirty eye for being so forthcoming.

“Yeah, well, I thought you’d be more upset that I might have had a baby out of wed lock,” I muttered carefully, still silently cursing my mouth.

It never failed. Whenever I was nervous about
anything
, I was instantly sarcastic about the situation. It had proved to be a nightmarish flaw over the years and was no less mortifying now. If all else failed, my brain was convinced sarcasm and denial were my best defense.

“When the hell did you or Rose ever do
anything
conventionally?” my father pointed out as he picked the spatula up and walked to the sink to rinse it.

“So true,” my mother said, eyeing me with a smile. “As a matter of fact, your father and I placed a bet a year ago on which one of you would get pregnant first.” My mother nodded at me and my jaw dropped. “So you picked me, Mom?” I snapped, offended.

“And I was close, wasn’t I?” she said with a wink and smiled at my father.

“You chose me, Daddy!” Rose shrieked, now equally as irritated.

“Girls, please you are both plenty old enough to have kids,” my mother piped happily.

“What the hell is wrong with you people?” Rose said, eyeing us all. “That’s not the way of things. It goes love, marriage, children,” she huffed, scolding us all.

“Ah,” my mother said, eyeing my father. “So you’ll set the example for us all. Well, that’s a relief,” my mother added, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she added a few casserole dishes to the table and gestured again for us to sit.

“Maybe I will,” Rose said smartly, refusing to meet my mother’s eyes. My mother was the complete definition of a liberal. She hated what the world considered ‘the norm’. She encouraged us at all times to live out loud, and resist conformity when it was a bad idea. My father, on the other hand, was a conservative man. They made for an interesting parenting combination, leaving Rose and I to muddle through their conflicting advice our entire lives. Still, somehow...it worked. I grinned between the two of them and could see the wheels turning at the idea of a grandchild. They would have been thrilled,
both
of them.

“Can we change the subject?” I begged, bored with the conversation. “Disaster averted.”

“Babies are not a disaster. They are an absolute blessing,” my mother said, grabbing my hand. Lowering my head as my mother said grace, I ignored the tugging feeling threatening me.

You have come too far, Dallas.

My mother spoke her next words with one eye open. “And Lord, if possible, I would love to be a grandmother sometime this century. Amen.”

“I’m sure Dad will win the bet, Mom,” I added, circling my fork around my burnt fish. “I have no interest in
any
of that.”

“Don’t you dare put that burden on me,” Rose choked out through a sip of her water. “I don’t need that right now, either.”

“Lightning will strike for you one day, Dallas. You, too, Rose,” my father assured us.

“Lord, Dad, what are you harping about now?” my brother Paul said, waltzing into the kitchen all smiles with his wife Hilary by his side as he took turns hugging each of us. We all stood to exchange greetings to a shy Hilary who gave us all warm smiles. She was 5’1” and one hundred pounds soaking wet with hazel eyes and classic features. She had worked hard to chip away at Paul’s resolve to never settle down. But according to Paul, it took him ten minutes to fall in love with her.

“Your sisters just indirectly told us we would never be grandparents. For now, your bet is safe.”

Paul smirked as he looked straight at me.

“Great, you too? Who did you bet on Paul?” I asked, knowing I was the one he had wagered on.

“I had to weigh in, Dallas. I practically raised you with them.” Paul was twelve years older than I was and fourteen older than Rose. He had done it all for us and with us. As far as big brothers went, Rose and I had been incredibly lucky. My brother was the spitting image of my father with strawberry blonde hair, striking jade green eyes, and fair skin. Their likeness was unmistakable.

“How’s business, son?” My father addressed my brother as he took a seat, eyeing the fish with distaste before opting to load his plate with sides.

“Great, Dad, but could you please come back a day this week and stomp Jose’s ass? He won’t listen to me again.”

“It’s all yours, my boy. He is the best foreman in the state of Texas, but he’s a mean old bastard. You will just have to figure out a way.”

“Seriously, Dad, I will fire him before I deal with him much longer,” he said, forking some potatoes.

“No you won’t. You are too smart,” my father mused.

They gave each other a grin. My dad was immensely proud of his son for taking over his construction company. My father had been the best architect in Dallas and still dabbled in designing buildings, but had given his son the other half of the business when he retired. He now used all his free time to drive my mother insane. I watched my dad take my mother’s hand, as he often did without noticing, but she did. She looked down at their hands and smiled at him while he surveyed the table.

“Why don’t you harp on Paul about having kids?” I nudged my brother next to me. “He is old as dirt, married and hasn’t produced a Whitaker heir yet.”

Hilary instantly froze, a wave of unease crossing her features. Paul gave me a weary look before spurting out, “All good things,” and taking her hand to squeeze it tightly then whispering softly into her ear. I seemed to be the only one to notice the exchange and made a point to ask him about it later.

“Mark my words. Lightning will strike you, dear daughters. There is no stopping it,” my father said confidently, eliciting a round of groans from me and my siblings.

After dinner, I watched my mother tie her hair up in her famous no nonsense bun before clearing the table to start the dishes. Standing behind her, my father plucked her perfectly tucked hair so it fell down around her shoulders. She looked back at him with annoyance until he swept her hair away from her neck and kissed it while he wrapped his arms around her, taking a dish from her hands and washing it for her. She smiled and leaned into him as he did the dishes with his arms around her. I heard him whisper to her, “I love you, baby.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I heard Rose whisper next to me, just as mesmerized by my parents as I was.

“I can’t even be sarcastic about them, Rose. How in the hell do you get it that good?”

“I don’t know, Dallas, but I want it too,” she whispered in a daze, watching them closely and with envy, the way she had her whole life. I knew that feeling because I had done the same.

I hugged my family goodbye with a promise to call my mother more often. I got in my car with a heavy heart, a familiar pain I had grown used to weighing upon it. Long ago, there had been a time that I was sure I had found the same love my parents shared. A time when I was so naïve that I believed that fairytale had a place in every person’s life. A time when I would have welcomed a baby with open arms and coveted being a mother. It took years to finally convince myself that although what my parents had was genuine, they were the ones who were naïve to think it could happen to everyone. I didn’t have the heart to tell my baby sister it was a myth. I would just have to be there for her when she found out for herself.

Dallas

• Now
  

Help. Help.

The whirring continued around me as I opened my mouth, unable to get the words out. My screams were soundless, my pleas for help lost on the torrent of wind. The clouds circled me with the promise that trouble was coming. I watched the silent lightning strike the ground once...twice.... And then strikes littered the sky as the wind whipped around me, warning me that they were coming.

I watched in sheer terror as the cloud directly in front of me began to stretch and sink slowly toward the ground.

I awoke paralyzed with fear instead of relieved at a good night’s sleep. Calming myself with deep breaths, I brought my heartbeat down enough to throw my drenched covers off of me.

Damn dream, always fear. I knew where this one stemmed from.

I had damn near ruined my career because of casual sex and would make it a point to get seen today so that it would never happen again. The constant nagging of my bladder let me know it wasn’t going away. I stared at my reflection. I had to start taking better care of myself. My light green eyes had deep purple half-moons underneath them. My skin was pale from lack of sun, and in mid-June in Texas, that was a bad sign. I was working longer hours than I should, and though it spoke volumes to my colleagues, it was clear I was pushing too hard. I took a scalding shower and made it a point to put on some makeup and a formfitting dress under my lab coat. I brushed my long brown hair and resigned to get a cut soon. I favored my mother and had her prominent sleek nose, large eyes, and full lips. Pleased with the effort I had put into my appearance, I grabbed the keys to my small condo and headed out.

Today was my day to give all possible prognoses and I had studied all the charts of the new patients. It was important that I delivered my findings as a confident doctor who had graduated first in her class. Not the over worked, over sexed mess that I was becoming.

Aside from the constant need to use the bathroom, I muddled through a majority of the rooms with success. My answers seemed to please the majority of the residents, as well as the impossible governing doctor. I finished with Mr. Carson, which I thought was cruel and unusual punishment. He was in this teaching hospital to receive the best, most cutting edge and affordable care for his condition; still I had a horrible time repeating his worsening condition.

“Lance Carson, forty-six years young, stage four inoperable brain tumor.”

“Treatment, Dr. Whitaker?”

I quickly looked to Dr. Pierce, ridding myself of the burden of studying Mr. Carson’s reaction.

“Meds to keep him comfortable,” I said in a low, defeated voice. I had no desire to drag this case out.

“Lost cause, Dr. Whitaker?” This time I had no choice but to look at Mr. Carson, who was clearly unaffected by the whole conversation. I, however, was furious about his question being in poor taste and glared at Dr. Pierce, challenging him.

“No such thing, sir,” I snapped, clearly having lost my mind. Gauging his reaction, I realized that, yep, this was going to be bad.

“Excuse me?” I saw the entire fleet of med students stiffen at his incredulous tone and imaginatively bent over and kissed my ass goodbye. Well, if I was going to go all Captain Destructo today, I might as well go all in. I lifted my chin for a standoff.

“There is no such thing as a lost cause in my opinion, sir. Death is the only definite. Everything else we can fight,” I said confidently.

“Are you hoping for a medical miracle, Dr. Whitaker?” I looked to the source of the person speaking and saw it was a smiling Lance Carson. “Come on, Dr. Whitaker, let’s hear your opinion,” Lance requested, leading me deeper into the hole I was quickly digging myself into.

Shut the hell up, Dallas!

I saw a mini me in the corner of my mind, holding the shovel and waving, and I flipped the apparition off. I watched every white coat in the room lean a little further in to hear the end of my short career.

I hesitated with my answer, now completely avoiding Peirce’s murderous stare.

“Okay...It’s the art of
practicing
medicine, Mr. Carson. There are plenty of facts and a ton of theories. We have to keep practicing to make theory a fact in all sciences.”

“Answer me without a bunch of philosophical bullshit, Dr. Whitaker,” Lance said, his stare heavy on me.

I heard a med student chuckle and glared in his direction for a split second before continuing.

Floor is all yours now, idiot. Eight years of college and you were a doctor for ten minutes.

I continued, anyway, my insides churning. “They have been trying to cure this disease for far too many years and I am telling you there is only one. The only cure for cancer is to fight and survive. There are more advanced treatments available every day. Dr. Pierce thinks you can’t survive the fight. I say you can. I say we can shrink it enough to operate and get it out and keep you fighting. You will be very, very sick. This is very close to a lethal dose, but it may work. They want to keep you comfortable while you die. I want you to fight death.”

“Dr. Whitaker! Don’t you think if I thought that was an option I would have suggested it?” I heard Pierce growl my name and turned to him.

“It is an option, sir. An option you didn’t suggest because of the risk of losing what time he has left. Mr. Carson wanted my honest opinion. Well, now you have it,” I said, addressing Mr. Carson while sweat gathered on my forehead.

“I am his doctor and mine is the opinion that matters,” Pierce said, dismissing me, my whole spiel circling the drain.

“I asked her, Todd Pierce. Don’t pull that shit with her when I asked her,” Mr. Carson barked.

I looked between the two and quickly realized this was a debate I wanted no part of. They were obviously good friends and I immediately saw the small amount of sadness in Pierce’s eyes that he let show. “False hope breaks hearts, Lance. You know that.”

“Hope is all you have when you are dying,” Mr. Carson shot back.

“This could kill you the first day,” Dr. Pierce said in a low, rushed tone.

“And it could save me, couldn’t it, Dr. Whitaker?”

“It could,” I answered quickly “I could give you the probability and—”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I just want to fight. It’s pretty much die or die anyway at this point. You told me to fight and I’m listening.”

“You won’t survive,” Pierce said emphatically, his words coming out harsh.

“I wasn’t going to, anyway,” Mr. Carson shot back, meeting him with an equal measure of tenacity. “So, Dr. Whitaker, when do we start the fight?”

“Today,” I said, watching my tone carefully so there wasn’t a trace of victory in it. I was walking a very fine line.

“Good,” Lance said enthusiastically, looking to me as he nodded. “Give me the treatment, order it now. And, Peirce, not a word to her about this entire conversation. This was my decision.”

“I won’t say a word to her about it, Lance. You have mine. Go on, Whitaker.” Pierce sighed on an exhale, not meeting my eyes.

“Yes, sir.” I turned on my heels and gave the orders.

I did a small strut down the hall and quickly felt my nerves get to me and went back to my new second home to empty my bladder. I knew I hadn’t suggested the treatment to Lance Carson just to one up Pierce. I prayed then it would work. I brushed off the sickness with my new excitement still fresh and walked to my tiny closet sized office. I picked up the phone immediately to dial Josh and tell him about my small victory, but decided to text Rose instead. Josh never took a real interest in my career. He didn’t understand my passion for my field. While he was somewhat supportive, it was a lacking factor in our relationship. One that I was sure would only wear on our connection as time progressed. In one of the few fights we’d had, he’d gone so far to mention that he was tired of my endless rants about work and that I needed to find a hobby or a new outlet.

I hadn’t looked at him the same since.

I was writing up charts when Dr. Peirce poked his head in.

“So are you pregnant, Dr. Whitaker?”

“No.”

I looked up to see him leaning in the doorframe. I could tell in his formative years that he had been one hell of a lady killer. He had salt and pepper hair and his eyes were a beautiful rich brown. He was a handsome older man, though I couldn’t stand more than a few hours at a time with his brash personality. I saw a trace of a small smile grace his lips.

“Good for you.” He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me stunned. In the last two days, he had shown concern for my wellbeing. And I was even more taken aback that he had kept his word to Mr. Carson by not handing my ass to me. I knew then he’d probably taken to my idea to treat his friend. I had spent the last thirteen months under his watch and was finally seeing a small hint of humanity in him.

It seemed to be the collective thought amongst most doctors to shed our human skins at the hospital. Those who thought we were simply cold-hearted, money seeking machines were sadly mistaken. In the long run, it was easier to be a doctor if you thought of yourself as an uninvolved part of a well-oiled machine. Things would always get a little gray at times, but getting involved with patients led to nothing but an aching heart and the inevitable need to flee the career itself. Keeping your emotions in check was vital to a long career. Or so I was taught.

I willed myself to finish my charts as my fatigue set in early. I looked at the clock and realized I was ten minutes late for my OB appointment.

Your health first, Dallas
.

“Okay, I’m going,” I said to my subconscious ranting in my head. I quickly made it to the right floor and saw the room was packed with pregnancy. I caught the eye of a woman who looked like she was having triplets and saw the devastation in her face. I said a silent prayer of thank you and walked to the receptionist.

“Dallas Whitaker checking in for my one-thirty.”

I filled out the paperwork, handed it over, then took a seat for the full thirty seconds they made me wait and quickly scrambled to my feet when my name was called. I scanned the tiny room they placed me in and was met by my new doctor as he opened the door reading what I assumed was my chart and looked up. I blinked and so did he as we both froze in place.

No fucking way.

“Dallas.”

The room shrank by half its size and I was suddenly in need of air. There was no air. A thousand emotions ran through me as I pushed out my usual greeting.

“Dean! Dean Martin!” I laughed as I threw my arms around him. He chuckled at my usual poking at his name.

“Dally.” He lifted me off the floor in a long hug then stood back, taking in my appearance. “How long has it been?”

“Seven years, and there is no way you are looking at my vagina. I need to be reassigned.” I laughed through my request, as did he.

“I have seen it all, baby.” He took his stethoscope off his neck and arrogantly circled it through the air like a lasso.

“Very funny. Last time I checked, you were getting married,” I said randomly.

My mini me took a gun out and shot me.

That seemed to sober him completely. “Yeah.” He lifted an eyebrow at me and I quickly soaked him in. He had on a black three-piece suit and a blood red tie underneath his jacket. He was a full foot taller than I was and had the most ridiculous set of perfect white teeth that shone in contrast with his naturally olive skin and crystal blue eyes. His black hair was combed back, not a hair out of place, and I could see he was perfectly fit.