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The Love Operation

Page 32

by Melissa R. Collings

Mom and Maggie are huddled waist deep in the water, arms looped together like twins. They’re laughing—giddy about keeping their hair dry. I try to edge in, but Maggie waves me off. “You wouldn’t understand, Cordelia. You’ve got White-people hair.”

They crack up. I smile, too, like I always did—like I wasn’t stung.

And then I turn, splash back toward Dad.

It wasn’t the moment I meant to revisit, but it’s the one my brain delivers.

Only . . . I’m not in it. This memory isn’t immersive. It’s just a memory.

I squeeze my eyes shut, shifting my focus. Okay. Maybe something else. My summer in Europe.

Nothing.

A sharp buzz of panic begins to build behind my breastbone. I squeeze my eyes tighter and force myself back to the Chiari procedure—the memory that always plays like a movie.

It’s fuzzy. Dim. The details scatter when I reach for them.

And just like that, I know.

It’s gone.

I feel stupid for how much I miss it. I didn’t even have it for long, but I’d already started building a new version of myself around it. Like I’d found a door to a better brain—and now it’s locked.

I fumble for my phone, fingers trembling.

Me: It’s gone. I can’t do it anymore.

Delenn doesn’t answer right away.

The loss is even louder in the silence, but as the door to the bathroom opens and someone’s shoes squeak across the floor, a little mole of excitement burrows up through the dirt of my disappointment.

We can do it again.

I stand and adjust my coat.

I need to see Delenn, but first, I have to make it through clinic.

Then I’ll get it back. I have to.

Chapter 7

“Working” Late

Isaac: Are you avoiding me?

He sent the text message after the parking lot incident this morning, but I waited to open it until clinic was over. Now I’ve finished charting, and I feel like I can’t avoid it anymore. He still has a say in whether I become chief.

Me: Of course not.

Isaac: So you weren’t running away from me this morning?

Me: You were in the parking lot?

Isaac: I never said I was in the parking lot.

Damn.

Isaac: Dr. Wren, we need to talk. Do you have a minute now? And don’t insult me by telling me you aren’t here. I see your car in the parking lot.