The Infrared Chronicles

January 6, 2017: Ford

            Author's note: Today's chapter is dedicated to the victims of the Fort Lauderdale Airport shooting, and to their families. You are in my prayers.

There was a shooting at an airport today. That's crazy. To say it sucks would be an understatement.

I know plenty of people who are afraid to fly. Some of them are afraid of heights in general, some of them are afraid of crashing, and some don't know what it is they're afraid of. But I don't know anyone who's afraid to go to the airport. Some of the realest danger happens where you don't expect it to. You go to say goodbye and send your loved ones away. You can send them next door, or you can send them to France, and there's no guarantee that you'll see them again in this lifetime.

I was lucky today. Or blessed. Fortunate. Whatever. I went to the airport in Madison, and I landed in Houston, and I had Nancy waiting for me.

"Happy birthday, Ford!" she said as soon as I got into her car.

"Thanks." I half-grinned as we entered the Houston traffic. I turned on my phone and saw a few texts I'd missed during my flight. One was from my friend Jacob, who'd already asked about the interview I did yesterday. I'd told him that it went well.

Great, his text said. Now go get laid and enjoy your birthday. I laughed out loud when I read it.

"What?" Nancy asked.

"It's nothing." The irony wouldn't have been lost on her, but she might not have found it as funny as I did.

We went to her apartment, which is just a little off-campus. She heated up dinner, which she'd already cooked: steak and mashed potatoes.

"Tell me all about your interview," she said. "If it was worth us spending our last Christmas break apart, it must have been good."

"Nancy, it was amazing. The hospital is beautiful. I got to meet some of the residents that already work there, and they had great things to say."

"And they seemed to like you?" She smiled.

"Yeah. They said my recommendation letters were impressive. They've got benefits for residents. Not to mention Milwaukee. It's beautiful. I can see it being our—" I stopped suddenly.

"What's that?" she said.

I'd almost slipped and said "our home."

"Um, I can...see it being a nice place to live."

"I'm so proud of you!" she replied, not seeming to notice my embarrassment. "Soon you're going to be a neurosurgeon."

"In seven years!"

"Okay, sort of soon." She started to clear our dishes. "Do you want to stay tonight? Remla won't be back until Sunday." Remla is Nancy's roommate.

I paused, raising my eyebrows.

"Are you serious?" I asked.

"Ford." She rolled her eyes and smiled, coming to sit beside me again. "I didn't mean 'stay tonight' like that." She kissed my cheek.

"What did you mean, then?" I asked.

"I meant stay. In my apartment. As in 'not leave'. But with your clothes on."

"You know that's not what I want," I told her, not unkindly.

She gave me a sideways look.

"Not 'til we're married," I said. "I know. But how likely is that to happen?"

"What?" She looked horrified. "Likely? Are we going to roll some dice?"

"You know what I mean."

"Why would you say something like that?"

"I'm not saying that we'll break up or something. I'm just saying that marriage is a big decision. But I love you. From my standpoint, it's an option. Aren't you thinking about it, too?"

"Yes."

"So, with that in mind, can we make an exception to the rule?"

She sighed, looking exhausted.

"Ford, I'm not offering you sex tonight. I'm offering to let you stay. If you don't want to, then don't."

There was a small silence.

"It's all right," I said. "I'll stay. I want to."

She smiled at me.

Now she's asleep, and I'm next to her in her bed. I can't help but think about the future. About next Monday, when my break will be over, and I'll start my neurology clerkship. About this summer, when I'll graduate and start my residency. And about myself in a few years, finishing residency and being a full-fledged surgeon. The question is, where will Nancy be? I always thought that she and I wouldn't last beyond my graduation, but now I'm not so sure.