Page 57 of The Do-Over
But of course she knew exactly how he could claim it. In his mind, they had shared the most recent part of their lives. In his mind, they had told each other everything up to what had happened just yesterday.
For her, nearly two decades had gone by. Thousands of things had happened that felt much more relevant than the things they’d shared all those years ago. But for him, those moments weren’t distant at all.
And yet, even as she thought it, she realized there wassome familiarity to what he was telling her. She didn’t remember pressing him to drink water. Not as such. But she did remember a proprietary feeling of concern when she’d seen him exhausted and sweaty after his games. She remembered wanting to make sure that he was all right.
It was impossible to remember that feeling without feeling it again, at least in part. It was as if he had taken her right back to that place.
And the way he was looking at her—God. It made her feel young again.
“So tell me more,” Rob pressed.
She looked at him. “What more is there?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m the one who’s missed out on seventeen years of your life. You know what’s important. I don’t.”
“Not much has happened, really,” she said. “I’ve been living here. Working.”
“What kind of work? I mean, I know nursing, but—”
“Elder care,” she said. “My patients tend to be people who are living at home and trying to remain independent, and I’m supporting that for them. Some of them have relatives living in, or they’ve moved in with their children. Some are on their own.”
“That must be hard,” Rob said. “Watching people get old, I mean. Watching them lose their ability to function.”
Thea remembered, suddenly, that Rob hadn’t come home for his father’s funeral. She hadn’t thought much about it, either at the time or since, but she remembered now that it had been a minor scandal. Everyone in Deer Ridge had expected him to make an appearance, and when he hadn’t, the golden boy’s image had momentarily been tarnished. He’d recovered his good standing when he had received his next medal, of course. But there had been a short interval during which people had sighed and shaken their heads when his name was brought up.
Maybe this is why he didn’t come home. Maybe he has a fear of aging.
It wasn’t very impressive, she had to admit—letting your own fear of aging get in the way of showing up for your own father’s funeral. But it was something she had encountered before, and she could empathize with it. She had plenty of patients who couldn’t handle the evidence of human mortality, couldn’t cope with the slow decline of the people they loved. It was disappointing, but it was very common.
I won’t judge him for it, if that’s what it is. It’s his business. His and his family’s.
Instead, she answered what he’d said. “It’s hard,” she said. “But I like knowing that their lives are better because I’m there. I like knowing that I’m making a difference for them. Do you know what I mean?”
He hesitated. “I feel like I do,” he said. “Isn’t that strange?”
“You are a doctor.”
“Yes, but I don’t remember that.”
“You may not remember it, but at some level, I’m sure you have memories of the satisfaction that work has given you. You’re glad to be in the medical profession, and you’re glad to help people, just like me.”
“And you think that’s what’s going on? I’m just remembering that feeling?”
“I’d be willing to bet that you are, yeah,” Thea said.
He smiled. “Is that your professional opinion?”
Thea laughed. “I’m not an expert in memory loss. I’m not sure I can have a professional opinion on this subject.”
“Maybe not,” he agreed. “It’s just so…I don’t know. It’s so cool to see you as a nurse! I’m really glad we had the chance to spend this time together, Thea, even though the circumstances are suboptimal.”
Thea grinned. “Suboptimal?”
“Okay, terrible,” he amended. “But that Bradley guy I called made it sound like I was going to be staying in a hotel. He seemed really surprised that I was with you.” He hesitated. “Did we have any plans to see each other while I was in town? I can’t believe we wouldn’t have arranged to get dinner or something.”
Thea was abruptly uncomfortable. “I told you, we’re not in each other’s lives anymore,” she said.
“But you knew that I was coming back. You knew about that award.”
