LETTING GO
A tumbler of
scotch-on-the-rocks sits atop the piano. The condensation is
collecting at its base and will surely leave one of those indelible
rings the Minwax people are always warning about. He knows that if
she were here, she’d squeak in that little dismayed way she has and
slide the first coaster she could get her hands on under it. But she’s not here.
And while that condensation ring on the glossy black varnish is
nothing more than a small man’s way of saying, “Ha. I don’t
need you,” it’s the only way he has at the moment, so he’ll
take it. Even though he knows with certainty that she will never see
the ring, and wouldn’t give a damn anyway, anymore. Greg takes another
swallow from the glass, savoring it, trying to make it last. It’s
the only one he’ll be having that night, dosed as he is on pain
meds. He may be a doctor, but he’s not stupid. Idly, he plays a
few bars of Silver Bells, ending with a flourish. It’s hard to be alone
during the holidays. It’s even harder to be alone all by yourself
during the holidays. At least, that’s what Oprah said on her show
yesterday, which leads Greg to the conclusion that Oprah has never
really been alone in her life. Because in reality, it’s hard to be
alone all of the time. Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, 4th
of July, the 24th of March, the 17th of
September – each and every one of the three hundred and sixty five
days of the year sucks when you have no-one but yourself to look at. According to Oprah, he
had to let go of it if he was ever going to “heal”. Again, this
led Greg to believe that Oprah had either never let go of anything in
her life, or maybe just never held on to anything in the first place.
Who in the history of mankind has ever been able to just “let it
go”? He hasn’t been able
to, if he’d even tried. It’s just not something he does –
letting things go. He can remember conversations he had with Wilson
a year ago verbatim; he can remember that Cameron wore her hair down
three weeks ago, Thursday. He remembers insults, he remembers
grudges. He remembers favors. And he can remember that flash of
something he saw in her eyes today was the same flash he’d
seen in them when they’d first met all those years ago. Theirs wasn’t the
typical boy-meets-girl story. That would imply some grand, sappy,
sugary romance, and quite frankly the idea was too clichéd for
either of them to tolerate. It’s enough to say that they were
friends, once. Very dear, very close friends. And then gradually,
they weren’t. And Greg hates it. He
hates still remembering about her idiotic coaster fetish. He hates
waking up in the morning and still expecting to trip over one of her
shoes. He hates how he has to stop himself from following her out of
the hospital when the workday is done. He hates the remorse he
feels each and every time he very efficiently snaps her proffered
olive branches down the middle. He hates that he can’t stop from
caring. In his rare moments of
reflective optimism, Greg imagines that all they would have to do to
mend things between them would be to utter a simple, sincere, “I’m
sorry.” But there’s a helluva lot of wounded pride between them,
and the chances of either one of them owning up to their role in the
breakdown are slim to none. Nevertheless, after
Greg downs the last of the scotch, he picks up the phone and dials a
number he’s never let go, either. It rings one and a half times
before he decides she’s not home, and hangs up. It’s not
cowardice, he tells himself. It’s common sense. She’s not
there, so he’ll have to try the old “Actions speak louder than
words” routine. He’d come in earlier to the Clinic tomorrow.
Hell, he might even try to come in on time. Across town in a tidy,
warmly lit apartment, a telephone rang. Lisa Cuddy sets down her
Kung Pao chicken to answer it, but hears nothing but the buzzing dial
tone. Frowning slightly, she returns to her take-out and the hokey
Christmas movie being shown on the Hallmark channel. It isn’t until much
later that she scrolls through the numbers on her caller ID and finds
a ‘G House’ at the top of the list, right above her mother. If
she is surprised she doesn’t show it.
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