I laughed at myself as I thought that. It seemed impossible anyone would capture my heart like Nick. But Nick was gone, and so I had to hope that somewhere out there was another person who could come close and would pass through the tiny town of Goldrush Lake.
Over the weekend, Eli left the store in the middle of the day so we could take Dad to see our mother’s grave. We cleaned the grass and leaves off of it, and put her favorite flowers, lilacs on it. We shared memories of our time with her, and Dad told us stories about their courtship.
“You know, she left me once,” he said, sitting in the fold-up outdoor chair Eli brought, while Eli and I sat on a blanket on the grass.
“Why?” I asked.
“She worried I’d be bored with small-town life. I had a bit of wanderlust back then. I wanted the big lights big city. To travel. Not unlike you, Mia.” He sighed. “She broke off with me and told me to get out of town and live my dream.”
“What happened?” Eli asked.
“I left.”
“What!” Eli and I said together.
My father had a bittersweet smile. “I did it mostly to be contrary. I was sure she wanted me to tell her she was wrong, and beg her to keep me.” He shook his head. “What nutty things we do sometimes to the people we love. I was a psychologist by then. I should have known better.”
“So, how’d you get back together?” I asked.
“Time apart made us both see what we had. Plus, instead of the big city, I went to a small town in Colorado, not unlike Goldrush Lake. I worked in a small group home for teens there.”
“Did she beg you to come back?” Eli asked.
“No. Your mother was a proud woman. But she did tell me that I was a jerk for not following my dream. I might as well have stayed home if I was going to be a small town shrink.”
I laughed. “Did you come back then?”
“I told her I’d come back only if she married me.” He laughed. “She wasn’t expecting that.”
“She said yes and you lived happily …" A wave of sadness filled me as I realized there was no happily ever after for my parents.
“We did. I won’t lie, I’d have liked more time with your mom. But we packed in more love and happiness than most people do. Sometimes I look at people and think about how much time they’re wasting being bitter or avoiding life. I have regrets in life, but not around your mom. From the moment we got back together, she always knew I loved her deeply, fully.” He pressed his hand over his mouth, kissed it, and then blew it to my mother’s gravestone.
I looked at Eli, and he knew, like I did, that Dad was telling us we were wasting time. I wondered what Nick would do if I called him and told him I loved him. Then again, maybe I’d be more loving if I gave him his space to find himself and get his head right. Of course, maybe he’d be happy to know I was thinking of him. Cripes. I was thinking myself in circles.
“I guess that means I’m asking Dana Ramsey out,” Eli said.
“What?” both my father and I asked.
Eli grinned. “I’ve been avoiding it, even though we flirt every day when I go to her coffee shop.”
“I didn’t know you had a thing for Dana Ramsey,” I said.
“Since sixth grade.” He laughed and it was the first time in a long time I’d seen Eli so relaxed.
“Wait, you were a Lothario in high school, and you’re saying you never asked the one girl you really liked out?”
“That’s right.” He pointed to himself. “Coward. What about you Mia, what fear do you have that’s held you back?”
I took a deep breath. “Telling Nick that I love him.”
33
Nick
Turns out being away and with my family didn’t keep the nightmares at bay. If anything, it was worse. Not only did I have Ms. Mason and Jane Parker accusing me of murder, but Mia appeared too. Not accusing me. No, she was still and silent. Dead. My anger and heartbreak tore from my mouth, waking my parents. Of course, after that, there was no way I could avoid my mother’s insistence I see a counselor.
“Why are you so adamant that you don’t have PTSD?” the therapist asked me a day later when I appeased my mother and went.
“Because I’m not a soldier. I’m not in battle or experience violence.”
“Some ER doctors view the emergency room like a battleground,” he argued.
“In a big city maybe, but not in a small town. Most of our patients are victims of accidents or poor health, not violence.”
The middle-aged man that reminded me some of Jim, nodded. “A common misconception about PTSD is that only people involved in war or experience violence are impacted. The truth is that the cause of it is extreme stress that in essence rewires the brain. An extremely frightening experience, such as being threatened with a gun or knife, can lead to symptoms.”
So, he knew about that. Had my mother told him?
“Or prolonged stress. Emergency room doctors have to contend with the unknown every day. They have to make life and death decisions. One wrong decision, one miscalculation, and a life is lost.”
I felt nauseous as the memory of Ms. Mason came back to me. Somewhere in her case was a bad decision or miscalculation.
“The fact is, from what you describe … the nightmares, the feeling of being on edge, fear, racing heart, all that are symptoms of PTSD. But, regardless of what it’s called, if it’s impacting your ability
