Page 36 of Conspiracies and Chemistry

“He never brings his guns to protests,” I assured him. “He knows he could end up in jail for this. No need to add a weapons charge to it.”

With perfect timing, two police cars pulled into the parking lot, their lights flashing. Some of the protesters groaned, but under his beard, my dad’s jaw turned to steel.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver said. “I didn’t know it was your dad.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s not the first time I’ve bailed him out. It won’t be the last.”

The protesters had spotted the police cars too, and their shouts increased in both volume and desperation.

Oliver leaned closer to whisper, “Go inside. I’ll handle this.” His breath stirred the shorter hairs near my face that had escaped my ponytail, and I shivered.

“We’ll handle it together,” I said, still holding his wrist. I wish I could say I immediately released it, but I needed the reassurance of his strong, steady pulse.

“Together,” he echoed.

I dropped his hand then. It was too much to gaze into those innocent blue eyes of his, clear and open as the summer sky. Maybe he was as trustworthy as he seemed. He’d seen a secret I kept from my closest friends, yet he still offered to stand beside me.

So we talked to the police officers together. We stood side by side as some of the protesters clambered into their trucks and drove off Discovery Diagnostics’ private property. People like my dad, for whom the cause was supremely personal, continued to shout their slogans until the officers took them into custody. Dad shouted through the police cruiser’s window, his eyes wild and his expression savage, as they drove him away.

A chilly breeze tossed the hem of my lab coat as the news van’s taillights receded down the street.

“You okay?” Oliver asked. We were the only ones left in the parking lot.

“This isn’t the first time. Actually, it’s the first time he’s protested at my place of employment. But he’s protested hundreds of times.” I glanced back at the building, where a couple of people watched us through the windows. “He…he started after my mom died of cancer.”

“I’m so sorry.” He stepped forward and reached out a hand like he’d take mine.

I stepped back. “It was over thirty years ago. My memories of her are so faded I’m not sure what I actually remember and what Dad told me about her.”

“You were so young,” he said.

“So was she. Younger than I am now.” I stared off into the trees that lined the back of the building. I’d made some poor choices that I regretted, choices that had narrowed my life for too long. But at least I’d had those years. Those choices.

He looked toward the distant line of live oaks. “My grandmother died of cancer too, though she was a lot older. Still, I miss her, and I wish we’d had more time together. It’s why I do this.” He waved at the building.

My lips twisted into a wry smile. “Same. I like to think I’ve finally made a choice she’d be proud of.”

His hands twitched, but this time he didn’t reach out. “She’d be proud of you regardless.”

“Yeah, right.”

I clocked the exact moment he remembered my worst choice. A steel door slammed shut behind his eyes, cooling the blue to slate.

“Come on,” I said, “let’s get back to work.” And I forced my feet to propel my weary body back to the office.

“So,” my dad said as he pulled his pickup into my motor court and shone the headlights on the front door, “same time next year?”

“Dad.” I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. “You can’t do this again.”

“What?” His eyes crinkled as he chuckled. “I can’t come see my daughter?”

I turned to face him. “No. You can’t. Not if you’re going to bring your conspiracy comrades to myjob.”

“You can’t be serious about working there. That Oliver is a liar, and he’s convinced you with a fantasy that you can make a difference. You can’t. Not with the government and the men in black and big pharma?—”

“Stop.” I waited until he closed his mouth, until he met my gaze. “I believe in this work. I believe in the company. I believe inhim.And I believe I can help them change the world, one patient at a time.”

He snorted. “I raised you to question everyone and everything.”

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