Conditional Love

19. Family

Alyssa

I sigh and lean my head against the cold wall behind me. Michael seemed to shrug the whole situation off, but I still feel horrible. I apologized profusely on the entire car ride to the hospital, but it doesn't feel like I've made any difference.

I absentmindedly twist the strings of my hoodie. I can't remember the last time I wore one of these, but I'm way too hungover to think about looking cute right now.

The waiting area is quiet besides the tapping of the receptionist's fingers against her keyboard. People walk by in the hall, mainly doctors and nurses rushing from patient to patient.

I suddenly spot Michael's dad as he walks by with a nurse. "Hi Mr. Adachi," I call and wave.

He stops and gives me a small smile. "Oh, hello Alyssa." He whispers something to the nurse who quickly nods and heads off without him. "What are you doing here?"

"Michael is getting his cast off." I asked Michael if he wanted me to be in the room with him, but he was very firmly against it. Excuse me for trying to be supportive.

He raises his eyebrows. "Wow time sure flies, eh? That means it's already been..." he trails off as he seems to struggle to do the mental math.

"Just about two months," I quickly finish for him.

"Right," he says. "I guess I lost track of time, I didn't realize how long it had been since I last spoke to him."

I do my best to be polite and hide my surprise. Two months? My family and I chat at least once a week.

"Did he mention his sisters' birthday party next week?" he asks. "You're welcome to come along if you'd like, we'd love to have you there."

I try to hide my confusion and quickly shake my head. "Oh, no he hasn't mentioned it, but thank you very much for the invitation."

I don't think Michael has told me anything about his sisters.

It looks like he'll have to now.

-----

I glance over at Michael when I pull up to a red light. "How does it feel?"

Michael examines his arm slowly. Fortunately, the doctor said that it healed nicely. "Sort of strange, I'm still getting used to being able to feel things with it."

"I'm sure it'll feel normal soon enough," I say. Even I'm having a hard time getting used to it. He pretty much didn't need any help getting into the car and strapping his seatbelt.

Michael nods and absentmindedly stares out the window. There's not much to look at, besides traffic lights and street lamps. The evening rush hour has slowed everything down to a crawl.

Inside the car is just as dull. Michael doesn't like to listen to any music while driving – not even audio books or podcasts. This rule apparently extends to me when we're in the car together.

Michael clears his throat. "About this afternoon," he mumbles, "I thought about what you said-"

"I'm really sorry, Michael," I apologize again. "Please don't be mad."

He shakes his head. "No, I think you're right," he says quietly. "I know I take life too seriously sometimes, and it makes me seem like I don't care about anything."

He never seems to take a break or want to have fun. He's always either studying, in meetings, or working on articles. He's probably the most pragmatic person I know. It also makes him stubborn and closed off, but I decide it's a bad time to bring it up.