Page 17 of Right Place, Right Time (Second Chances)
“Kate…the kind of people who judge someone by what’s on the outside aren’t the kind of people I care to be around. So no, I don’t care that they treat me differently because I don’t care about them. I look the way I want to look, the way I like, anyone who has a problem with that can just get over themselves.”
Well, when he puts it that way…
“I appreciate that you’re all set and ready to defend my honor, but there are better things you could use your energy on.”
My breath catches as my mind immediately goes to a naughty place. Yes…there are better things I can use my energy on. Him being one of them. “Like what?” I ask, looking up into his eyes, which appear heated for just a moment…such a brief moment that I’m not even sure I saw it clearly.
He drops his hands from my shoulders and nudges me to start walking again. “Like finishing school.” Dammit. Soooo not where I was hoping he’d go with that. “You really want to be a doctor?”
We walk across the street to the park, him holding my hand as we cross as per usual. I go straight for the swings, needing to feel free as a bird to have this conversation. Instead of having to pump my legs to get some height, Jay steps behind me and pushes.
“In junior high, I was given two options. I call them ‘The Dumont Paths to Success, Tracks One and Two.’ Track One: med school. Track Two: law school. My parents both suck,” I say, surprising myself. While I’ve thought that for quite some time, I’ve never voiced it out loud before, and certainly not in front of someone else. I’ve been trained to keep up appearances and never let my guard down.
“Sounds like it. You didn’t have a choice in the matter?”
“Sure I did. I got to pick whether I wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer,” I tell him dryly. “Anyway…my parents both suck, but my dad is a little softer than my mom. So I picked med school, because I didn’t want to turn out like her.” Cold and uncaring, I think but don’t dare say. “Maybe I should have gone to law school. Maybe having a protégé would have softened her up.” Maybe she would have felt something towards me other than indifference.
“Do you like it?” he asks, repeating my earlier question to him.
“I’m good at it,” I answer, shrugging as best I can while holding onto the swing.
“You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’d be good at anything you put your mind to. I asked if you like it. Does it make you happy?”
My shoulders slump, and I lean my head against the chain. He slows the swing down and pulls me to a stop.
“Hey…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You’re not prying,” I tell him, staring down at my sandal covered feet. They’re filthy from the dirt and dust in the park. “You asked me a simple question. Do I like what I study?”
“Do you?”
I let out a sigh and shrug. I focus all of that energy he was talking about earlier on not tearing up. No one has ever really asked me how I feel about it all, or what I want. The guidance counselors in high school had admired my drive and ambition and just assumed I was on the path I wanted to be on.
“I like the idea of being a healer, and I know it’s something I’d be good at. I know I’ll have a career where I’ll be saving lives, and I think that will be fulfilling.”
“But…,” he says, interrupting my practiced response.
“But what?”
“Where’s your passion? When you figure out the one thing you want to do for the rest of your life, you’ve got to feel passionate about it. You sound like you could take it or leave it.”
“Teaching,” I whisper.
“What?”
“I love to teach. I tutored in high school…it was my most favorite thing to do.”
“So why not teach?”
I shake my head. He doesn’t get it. No one does. “My parents would never allow that.”
“Why are you letting them dictate your future?” he says, irritation in his voice.
“Because they’re paying for it,” I snap at him.
“Kate…can’t you get loans or something? Don’t you want to do what you’re passionate about? This is the rest of your life we’re talking about. Do you really want to be doing something you just feel ‘okay’ about for the rest of your life?”
“You don’t understand,” I say, standing up from the swing and stepping around him.
“Then make me,” he demands.
I turn to face him. “I told my parents I was interested in teaching, and they made me quit tutoring. Said it was giving me the wrong ideas.”
“So do it without them.”
“I can’t. They’d completely disown me, Jay. I know that sounds petty because I’m an adult, and I already live on the other side of the country, but they foot the bill on my entire life. And they’d pull it all out from under me if I didn’t do what they wanted. My apartment, my car, my tuition…everything.”
“Okay,” he says, putting his arms around me and pulling me into his chest as a few tears break free. “It’s okay. Never mind all that.” I take a deep breath and breathe him in. He smells like leather and fresh air and maybe a little grease. Nothing at all like some of the other boys I’ve dated over the years. They’d smelled like the fragrance counter at Dillard’s.
