Those eyes.
He was quieter. “I want the same for you.”
She kissed him, holding onto the back of his head because he might go away at any time.
He wanted a life of happiness for her. A lifetime of happiness. That was the kindest wish anyone had ever made for her. If Ben had said anything remotely like that, he would have gotten into her pants instantly.
And that was the thing, wasn’t it? Here was Hank, absolutely sincere. Not even considering getting into her pants at this moment.
Erin said, “So, where do we go from here?”
“Always ask for what you want, and always do what makes you happy. That’s a start.”
“You’ve said that.”
“And also, I need you to reserve December twenty-second for me. The whole day.”
“The whole day? What are we doing?”
“It’s a surprise. A Christmas prezzie. An experiential gift.”
Two car doors slammed, and Erin emerged from behind the shed.
Gloria yelled, “Come on, you wanker! Let’s get a move on. Sorry, Erin. I didn’t mean you were a wanker.”
Hank ran around the shed. “Nope, she is!”
And they were off, again.
Mitchell and Claire had departed before breakfast, complaining about the double bed. For years, Claire had implored her parents to buy a house big enough for everyone to spread out.
Clad in bathrobes, Erin and her grandparents devoured sausage and pancakes drowned in syrup.
“Let’s relocate you from the pullout sofa to the guest bedroom,” Grampa said. “We can do anything you want, all summer.”
“Swimming!” Ten-year-old Erin tore off her bathrobe to reveal a velour swimsuit.
“Is that it? Are we going to swim all summer?”
“Boating!”
“Don’t get him started,” Tea said.
Grampa laughed. “I had an idea. What if we have a midnight paddle into the middle of the lake and go stargazing?”
“Yes!” Erin said.
Grandma Tea said, “I’ve added it to the list. What else?”
“Hiking! Music! Ice cream! Daddy Frank’s!”
“Should we take the boat to Daddy Frank’s today?” Grampa asked.
“Swimming!” Erin said.
“You are a fish, my sweet granddaughter. Give us a minute to get dressed.”
Grandma Tea whipped off her bathrobe to reveal her own swimsuit. “Time waits for no man. Let’s go, Fish.”
“I have been outsmarted,” Grampa said as his two girls ran to the dock’s edge and dove in.
SEVENTY
Sunday afternoon, something tugged the edges of Erin’s brain.
Choosing Columbia had been a combination of things, really: she was a legacy candidate, their acceptance rate was two percent higher than Harvard and Yale, and it was still on the East Coast. Columbia had a great swim team, but not so great that she couldn’t get on it.
For years, her laser-focus on Columbia had forced her into AP classes, orchestra, and varsity swimming. She would parlay her every effort into an Ivy League acceptance letter, and parlay that undergraduate experience into a good med school, so she could parlay that into a six-figure salary and respected position in a teaching hospital.
But why?
Great medical school, great job, great life.
But she didn’t want that life. She really, really didn’t. She didn’t want to spend eight more years in school, so she could spend eight more years locked in hospital residencies, fellowships, and whatever else it took to succeed. She didn’t even like biology.
Erin: Li, do you think I’d be a good doctor?
Litha: Of course! You are a beast.
Erin: Right. This is a real question.
Erin: Would I be a good doctor?
Litha: Yes. You will stop at nothing to succeed.
Litha: (I can’t tell what mood you’re in. Is that the right answer?)
Erin: Do you think I’d be a happy doctor?
Litha: What, exactly, is going on down there?
Erin: Crisis, I think.
Erin: I don’t think I want to be a doctor.
Litha: Biology and anatomy would be steep hurdles for you.
Erin: Right?
Erin: WTF was I thinking?
Litha: Probably that you could do anything you put your mind to.
Litha: And you could.
Litha: But should you?
Erin: I’m thinking no.
Litha: I’d love to dwell in existential crisis with you.
Litha: But Teddy’s parents are out of town.
Litha: So we have the house to ourselves.
Litha: So bye.
Erin: Make him wear a raincoat.
Litha: Shhhhhhhhh.
Erin loved knowing her friend was happy. And she loved how well Lalitha knew her. Erin hated biology, and would undoubtedly hate another anatomy class, to say nothing of needles, catheters, and bodily fluids.
“I don’t want to be a doctor.” Admitting it aloud gave it power.
“Did you say something, love?” Felicity poked her head into the girls’ room.
Erin stared at her but couldn’t focus.
“I was going to ask you to tea, but your mind is leagues away. You look like you’re in crisis.”
Erin was in crisis. “I am trying to determine the essence of a person.”
Timidly, Felicity sat on the edge of Erin’s bed. “That’s quite deep, eh?”
They said nothing for a few minutes.
“Is this about Hank?”
Erin guffawed. Hank certainly had led her here, but this wasn’t about him at all. “No, it’s about me. I have been spending so much of my life working toward the Ivy League—looking good on paper—that I hardly know who I am anymore. I need to sort through what everyone else wants from me, and what people expect of me, to figure out what I want. At this point,
