When Love Calls (8 page)

Our annual girl’s trip was always the highlight of my year. It was one of the few times I didn’t feel like the only single chick. Once the girls got away from their kids and their husbands they started trying to relive their glory days and I was more than happy to help them. None of them ever got too crazy, but it was fun to see them flirt with men and then send them off with whatever scheme they decided to use. I’d bet them three years ago that they couldn’t go the entire trip without telling someone they were married and they’d accepted the challenge every year since. They always came up with creative ways of running off men. I’d seen them do everything from fake illness to pretending to be a couple! I honestly think it was their way of trying to make up for all the times I had to be the fifth wheel. When we got away, there were no wives or moms, just four women. Four friends.

I was painfully aware of how challenging it was for them to continue to go on these trips with me as their families grew, but I was so glad that they were still committed to our vacations. They could easily have replaced our trip with family vacations or their husbands could have protested the fact that they still even hung out with me neither of those things had happened. That meant a lot to me too. I knew I had given them every reason in the world to write me off with my crazy personal life, but they were all still right there. They were my only real family and even the thought of losing them caused tears to pool in my eyes.
Am I seriously about to cry?
I couldn’t believe my emotions were getting the best of me again.
I swear I must be suffering from a chemical imbalance. Maybe I need to have my blood checked.

I came up with a fast excuse to end lunch before I fell apart completely. “Amber, I’m not really feeling well. Would you be too upset if we went back to the house and ended the day? I know we were supposed to hang out, but I’m really feeling a little off right now.” 

“Are you sick?” Amber’s brows furrowed with concern. “We could stop and get you some medicine or something and I could just hang around a while just in case.”

“No, it’s not a physical thing, I just need some alone time. I need to sort through my thoughts and feelings. A lot of stuff is starting to surface and I just need some time to deal with it by myself. Ok?” I looked at her with pleading eyes. I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up and rolling down my face. Amber came around the table and wrapped her arms around me. I squeezed her arm briefly before turning to try and stop the flow of tears. It was useless. They trickled down in a continuous stream.

“It’ll be alright friend. Whatever it is, I’m here for you if you need me. Don’t cry.” Amber was still hugging me which made me want to bawl even more. She didn’t ask a single question about why I was crying. She knew too well that I would never let myself fall to pieces like this if I could help it. I was hurting and that was all she needed to know. “Come on hon. Let’s get you out of here.” Amber paid the check and I rode silently as she drove my car home. The tears continued to flow and I didn’t bother to wipe them away. I just let them fall until they ran down my chest and small sobs began to involuntarily escape. Amber pulled into my driveway and I trudged toward the door. My chest felt caved in and the weight of my shoulders made my walking labored. It was all I could do to get in the door without collapsing from the tremendous heaviness of my emotions. Amber followed me to the door and stopped there. I could tell from the look on her face that she was genuinely concerned and I hugged her tightly to reassure her. “Call me if you need anything,” she said. “It doesn’t matter what time... day or night.
Call me!
We’ll talk soon ok? I love you!!”

“…Love you too Amber. I’ll call you soon.” I closed the door, collapsed on the couch and let the deep sobs come. I was too tired to fight my feelings anymore. They overwhelmed me and I let them. I cried myself to sleep.

Chapter Four

It was dark by the time I woke up. I peeled myself from the sofa and as soon as I stood my head began to pound. My crying fit had left me with one hell of a headache and a case of cotton-mouth.  As I headed to the kitchen for a bottle of water, questions rolled around in my head about what had caused me to become so emotional. I had grown up with a very real fear of losing the ones I loved. It had happened enough times for me to believe it was the way things would always end for me. When my mother died my senior year of undergrad, I thought surely I wouldn’t suffer another loss. I’d lost my sister. My dad was gone and then my mom. Evidently, that loss was not enough because it wasn’t the last. The only man I had ever really loved—the  one who had been there through the most difficult time in my life—had turned out to be a verbally abusive womanizer. I had learned to deal with him calling me names, he wasn’t the first person to do that and probably wouldn’t be the last. But when I found out that of the two and a half years we’d been together, he’d been cheating nearly half that time, it was more than I could stand. Something deep within me changed that day when his “girlfriend” decided to pay him a surprise visit at his apartment and I just happened to be there. It was one of the most devastating moments in my life. I had considered him my family and poured every ounce of love I had into our relationship. His betrayal felt like a drop-kick to my heart and I had never recovered. Sure, I dated casually but if anyone tried to get too serious, I would end it or cheat before the guy could cheat on me. I had convinced myself I would never be that fool again. I’d made that decision more than ten years ago and still, here I sat with the same wounded heart and deep-seeded emotions. My attitude and actions hadn’t changed anything within me. They hadn’t mended my bruises or eased my pain. My fear of abandonment was still there and part of me knew it was the reason I worked so hard not to build attachments or to run first before I could be left behind. That was how I controlled my life and my emotions.

I took a sip of cool water and felt it trickle down into my empty stomach. I wasn’t in the mood for food and still hadn’t worked through my immense sadness. Sure, Grayson’s cheating had been an emotional blow but as I thought back further, it ran deeper. My father left when I was too small to even remember him so I couldn’t understand for the life of my how or why I could ever have missed him, but I did. My mother had refused any requests I made for details as to why he wasn’t there so all I knew was that he was gone and had never bothered to come looking for me. I was his little girl and he never cared whether I was dead or alive.
Fuck! Here come the waterworks.
I snatched a napkin from the dispenser on the kitchen table and dabbed my eyes that were now overrun with tears. I could live a dozen lifetimes and never understand how someone could have absolutely no interest in their own flesh and blood. Deep down that was what hurt the most. I wanted him to love me and to want to be with me and be proud of me. It was part of the reason I worked so hard to be everything to my cheating ex. It was what drove me to pour everything into my friendships even though my efforts weren’t always reciprocated.

Not knowing my father had changed so many things within me and it wasn’t until that very moment, there at the kitchen table, that I really put it all together. All my attempts at avoiding abandonment had put me in the exact position I didn’t want. I was alone with no family other than my three girlfriends who had all managed to build families of their own.
I can’t keep living this way. This was never what I wanted.
I hadn’t asked for the heartache that came with being abandoned by my father and cheated on by Grayson, but here, today, I had a chance to make changes and create some genuine happiness for myself.

Even though I still had a strong attraction to Mike, I decided right then that I would put him out of my mind completely and focus on what I had going with Joshua. He was kind and sensitive and we wanted the same things from life. The more I thought about it, there was no comparison between them. They were very different people and Joshua was the perfect person to start a clean slate with.

I grabbed my phone and wallet from my purse that still sat on the end table by the door. I scrolled down to Mike’s number and deleted it before finding his business card in my wallet and tossing it in the trash.
I’m really going to give this thing with Josh a shot.
Just the thought of that warmed my heart and I beamed from the inside out.

*****

I found Josh’s number in my phone and called him. To my disappointment, again it went to voicemail. “Hey Josh, it’s me, Erin.  I was just calling to... talk to you.  I wanted to let you know what an amazing time I had the other night. It made me happier than I’ve been in a long time and I’m looking forward to seeing you again soon. Alright … bye.”  I chewed my lip nervously as I hung up the phone. I felt excited and petrified and nauseous all at once. This was it. I was deliberately being vulnerable and it scared the shit out of me. I forced myself to dismiss the regret that crept in about leaving my feelings on a voicemail.
You just said the date was nice not let’s get married and make babies. Get a grip!
I chided mentally. My breath and anxiety were released in a huge sigh. Not more than three weeks ago I would have been calling right back with an excuse to never see Josh again, but I fought against that feeling. I wanted this man in my life. I wanted him to love me and wanted, one day to love him. I could already feel affection blooming through the cracked cement surrounding my heart.
If I really want a chance at love, I need to give someone a chance to give it to me.

Upstairs I found prepping for work to be a welcome distraction from the lingering angst I felt. Tonight was the first night I could clearly remember that I would be getting to bed at a decent hour. It was just ten thirty and I was physically and emotionally exhausted. As I curled my weary body beneath the covers and the pillow shrouded my head in comforting softness, the weight of the day evaporated and all that remained was quiet, peaceful slumber.

Chapter Five

When the alarm went off at six a.m. I popped right out of bed. I hit the button on the radio in the bathroom, turned the knob on the shower and hopped in. I sang along to Alicia Keys
Brand
New
Me
as I stood beneath the showerhead and the water trickled down through my hair. The song embodied how I felt at that moment. I was excited and anxious to begin the journey ahead of me and eager to make some drastic changes that would help me get what I truly wanted in life and love.  I couldn’t contain my happiness as I exited the shower. Now Robin Thicke’s
Blurred Lines
had me bustin’ a move. I was glad no one was there to see me break out in the Running Man and the Reebok. Especially since I was still stark naked! I threw my hands in the air and did a buck-naked body roll in the mirror and then burst out laughing. I felt freer than I had in a long time and I was embracing it. There would be no tears for me today. I was on a natural high and loving it.

I managed to reel in my inner go-go dancer long enough to get dressed and out of the house on time, but the car ride to work was a different story. I belted out
I’m Every Woman
as I weaved in and out of the morning traffic on the highway. It was like the radio had put together a special “girl power” mix just for me.
Maybe it’s confirmation that I’m heading in the right direction.
I thought. As I pulled into the parking lot, I felt the hospital pager pulsate in my pocket. I darted from my car toward the ER as a family was being wheeled in on gurneys. They were victims of a head-on collision from a driver who fell asleep at the wheel. He’d arrived at the hospital as well with minor injuries. The same couldn’t be said for the seven-year-old girl whose family had been hit. She was bleeding from the head and had severe bruises developing on her abdomen. In addition to her obvious head trauma, I knew she was suffering from internal bleeding.

 “There’s no time for a CT scan. Let’s get her an ultrasound, set up the O.R. and have someone contact Neuro!” The gurney sped off toward the operating room and I followed after throwing on my scrubs. I got into surgeon mode as I scrubbed in at the sink. This was the part of my job that both exhilarated and frightened me. These moments were the greatest measure of my bravery as a person and a surgeon because, despite my fear, I powered through each surgery to try and save a child’s life.

When I entered the operating room I immediately focused on finding and stopping the internal bleeding. I steadied my hand and made an incision to the right side of the little girl’s abdomen. The steady gush of blood from the incision let me know I was in the vicinity of the actual bleed. Angie suctioned the area and cleared the pooling blood to reveal the ruptured blood vessel. I clamped the vein on both sides and packed gauze around the area to keep it clear long enough for me to stitch the tear. Angie suctioned the area once more just to make sure we had securely closed the wound and there were no other open areas. Even though it looked clean, I took a deep breath as I released the clamps and waited. I watched the monitor and the girl’s heart rate and blood pressure stabilized. I released the air I’d been holding and began stitching closed the incision. Once I closed up, I prepped to leave the operating room to scrub up again before making my rounds. The neurosurgeon arrived as I was leaving. “Her vitals are stable Dr. Eikos so you should be able to take her up for scanning. I think the internal injuries were the worst of it. Good work today everyone.” I turned and acknowledged my surgery team then headed out the door.

*****

Kara, an eight-year-old girl suffering from kidney failure, had been admitted a week ago due to blood poisoning. The dialysis was barely having any effect on the condition and her parents seemed to be at the hospital day and night waiting to hear about a donor or some other medical options.  Despite her condition, Kara was a spirited child whose quick-whit and timely sarcasm amused the hospital staff. She was one of my favorite patients to visit. Since this wasn’t Kara’s first hospital stay, she and I had bonded quite a bit over conversations about fashion and soccer, which Kara played when she was well. There was something about her that reminded me of my little sister and that drew me in. Today’s check-up was different. Kara was listless and her color was muted and dull. “Hey Dr. Porter,” she said barely above a whisper. “I’m not feeling too hot today.  My parents have been fussing over me all day touching my forehead and having the nurses come in and check me. I told them I just feel tired, but they don’t believe me.  Would you please tell them that it’s ok and some days I just feel tired? I heard I’ve moved up a few places on the donor list.  Well, nobody actually
told
me, because you know no one talks to the sick kid, but I heard another doctor telling my mom in the hall. I think it’s funny that they think because I’m sick I’m going deaf! I hear a lot and I see a lot but mostly, I can always tell what’s going on by the looks on people’s faces. Today everybody looks worried and I don’t like it.”