Page 80 of Where She Belongs
The IRS meeting goes better than expected, the months of preparation paying off as I navigate complex questions about service area definitions, community benefit metrics, and financial sustainability models. When the committee chair mentions that my application is “among the most thorough and well-documented” they’ve seen, I feel a momentary flicker of professional satisfaction.
But it quickly fades as I think of Andrea, who should be sharing this moment with me. She’s the inspiration behind my clinic, from its inception to its integration of community health concepts, the very same concepts that have brought me to D.C. for this meeting. And it’s her late night analysis of my application on our last evening together in Hawaii that got me the approval after previous attempts.
As I gather my materials after the committee leaves, Daniel approaches, his expression carefully neutral. “That went well,” he says. “The chair practically guaranteed approval.”
“Thanks to Andrea’s input,” I say, unable to keep her name from my thoughts or my words.
Daniel nods, understanding in his eyes. “The jet will be ready at Dulles tomorrow morning. Eight AM, if that works.”
“That works,” I agree, grateful for his support. “The sooner I can get back, the better.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, heart leaping when I see my father’s name on the display. I almost ignore it—our relationship has been strained since I refused to join his medical practice after residency—but some lingering sense of filial duty makes me answer.
“Papa,” I greet him, switching to the hallway for privacy. “I’m just finishing a meeting.”
“Gabriel,” he says, his voice carrying that familiar blend of authority and disappointment. “You need to come by the house tonight. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
I close my eyes, immediately understanding what this is about. “I’m in DC, Papa. IRS meeting for the clinic.”
“Back tomorrow, then,” he says, undeterred. “Carolina will still be visiting through the weekend. Her father speaks very highly of her nursing career.”
The matchmaking attempt is so transparent, so mistimed, that I almost laugh. “Papa, I’m seeing someone.”
“That divorced doctor?” His dismissal is evident even through the phone. “Gabriel, be reasonable. She’s what, ten years older than you? Already raised her child? What can she offer you that a younger woman can’t?”
The casual cruelty of his assessment ignites a protective anger that surprises me with its intensity. “Her name is Andrea, and you know who she is. She’s the one who filled in at the clinic when I got into my accident, in case you’ve forgotten. And she offers everything that matters to me—intelligence, compassion, a shared commitment to medicine. She’s the most remarkable woman I’ve ever known.”
“She’s also forty-three,” my father counters, as if this single fact overrides all others. “A man in his prime should be with someone who can give him children, mijo, build a future.”
“If I want children, there are many ways to have them,” I reply, keeping my voice steady despite the rush of anger. “And my future is mine to build, with whoever I choose.”
“You’re making a mistake,” he insists. “Throwing away your chance at a traditional family, and for what? Some midlife rebellion?”
“What I feel for Andrea isn’t rebellion,” I say, the words coming from a place of absolute certainty. “It’s the most real thing I’ve ever felt, Papa. And if you can’t respect that, if you can’t respect her, then we have nothing more to discuss.”
The silence that follows tells me I’ve crossed a line we’ve been approaching for years—finally prioritizing my own judgment over his approval. When he speaks again, his voice carries a new note of caution.
“You’re sure about this woman?”
“Completely,” I say without hesitation. “And her age has nothing to do with her worth. Think about that before you try to set me up with anyone else.”
I end the call before he can respond, surprised by my own boldness but not regretting it. For years I’ve sought his approval, tried to balance my independence with his expectations. But when it comes to Andrea, there’s no room for compromise, no desire to seek his blessing.
Because I know what I want, who I want. Whatever medical news Andrea is facing, whatever fears it’s triggered, I’ll be there when she’s ready to talk. Not to change her mind, not to demand explanations, but to listen. To understand.
To show her through presence what words alone cannot convey.
That I’m not going anywhere. That whatever she’s facing, we can face it together.
Daniel finds me still standing in the hallway, lost in thought. “Everything okay?”
I nod, pocketing my phone. “Just my father, trying to set me up with someone more ‘appropriate’ than Andrea.”
Daniel’s eyebrow raises slightly. “And what did you tell him?”
“That who I choose to love is my decision, not his,” I say, the words feeling right as they leave my mouth. “That Andrea’s age has nothing to do with her worth.”
“Well said,” Daniel approves, clapping me on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s grab dinner, celebrate the meeting’s success, and get you back to New Mexico tomorrow.”
