Page 21 of Baby Heal the Pain

“I checked your pupils and made you drink water every couple of hours. You went through a few bottles. You don’t remember?” I wasn’t terribly worried, since Dr. Inez had said Red might have memory loss for a few days, but we’d had some moments of connection today. It would be a shame if Red never remembered them.

“Now that you mention it, I do remember a few things.”

She didn’t elaborate and I didn’t ask. We spent dinner getting to know each other, at least as much as we could. We studiously avoided talk of each other’s work, focusing instead on our childhoods, educations, and time in the service. We realized I’d left the army around the time she had joined. She told me about her parents, Felix and Miriam, both also doctors, who lived in Miami. I told her more about Kerri and living in Philadelphia, where we’d grown up and lived until moving to Chicago two years ago.

“Are your parents still in Philly?” she asked.

It was an innocent question and I’d known it was coming, but even now it still caused a little stab of pain to my chest. I glanced out the back window at the almost full moon rising and the clear sky full of stars.

“If you don’t want to talk about it,” she offered.

I blinked back tears and shook my head. “It’s not that.”

She laid her hand on mine. I turned up my palm and laced my fingers with hers. “They died in a car crash my senior year of high school,” I said.

She looked surprised, like she hadn’t expected that. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Of course you should have. I want you to know about them, and about Kerri, who was in ninth grade when it happened. How amazing they were and how great she is and...”

I didn’t finish my thought and she didn’t press me. We sat in silence for a few minutes. She looked calm, like she was at peace.

“Can I ask you something?”

She hesitated. “That depends.”

“I know.” I stared at our joined hands for a minute, then met her gaze. “In the van, before you fell asleep, you looked so tired. Not just exhausted, but...” I shrugged. “Wrecked. Broken, maybe.”

Tears formed in her eyes. She had losses of her own and maybe she wasn’t ready to discuss them. I felt like a shit, because if there was a wound, I’d reopened it, and I couldn’t just ignore it now. “A boyfriend?” I asked. “Or a husband?”

“Never married,” she said. “And not that kind of break. It’s just...” She seemed to struggle to find the right words. “Have you ever been on a life trajectory and then something happens, and you realize you might have been on the wrong path all along?”

Christ, had I ever. I squeezed her fingers. “Hold that thought.” I stood and cleared our dinner dishes and trash, then held out my hand to her. I’d learned the hard way that sometimes talking about the worst parts of life were necessary to getting past them, and I was sure Red hadn’t had anyone to discuss this with in a long time, if ever. “Come, sit over here.” I led her to the sofa and sat down beside her, ready to absorb some of her pain.

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