Open Heart: Second Year {On Halt}

Chapter 27- Psyche

"Allô? Lola, si tard le soir?" her tone sounded sleep-laden. You could never separate French from Mia's lines because she had inpoured herself into their culture so much that I often wondered if US was the place she actually wanted to live. I learnt the language from her as well, but I didn't speak it anymore. It came out as stress-syllable sometimes, less frequent than intern year of course.

"No French, Aunt Mia. Drive back to home. Wait, are you busy? I can call later if—"

"No, no." She quickly perked up, "Tell me. I wanted to hear you voice anyways."

"Is everything alright? You sound a bit off." It was easy to catch any change in her voice—her mood because Aunt Mia was like this amazing bundle of calmness and rhapsody concealed into a beautiful blonde, strikingly similar to my polar opposite mother.

"Do I?" she made a noise of distress, "Sorry."

I wiped a trail of water which had crept to my face from hair, "You don't have to say that word. Tell me what happened. It goes both ways, you promised."

A sighed escaped from the line, "It has been a bad day for me today. We..." pause, "We lost a little girl to pleuropulmonary blastoma...she was being treated for a year now and I had just managed to get approval of hospital board for a grant on stem cell therapy but..." she sniffled, "She died today."

It has been a terrible day for her today as well. Mia loves children...

"Oh...I am so sorry." I gently said, "Were you close?"

"Everyone here was her friend. She was a firecracker, so much spunk. So much energy...so my life and yet, I failed." Her voice shook, "I failed her and her family."

"You didn't fail, Aunt Mia. You gave her hope which is more than anything. Sometimes it's difficult for us to accept the truth because it's a virtue we cannot control. But we can control how we perceive it, can't we?"

"My, aren't you a poetic naturalist now?" she gave a mirthless laugh, "Edenbrook has been good on you, it seems. All except well...everything before."

I stared at my wall where Evelyn's portrait of mine was hung, "Do you want to talk about it? About the girl?"

"No. Not now at least. It's too soon and I've lost fair share of patients in my career to that disorder. Each time I think it will be easier...it never is. Sometimes I think I am too malleable to handle it and sometimes, I think it's because I have capacity of embracing empathy unlike...some people." Her tone spun bitter. I understood whom she was speaking about.

"Mom called me. Many times."

Pause for other end before, "Are you going? If you don't want to, then I understand." Pause again, "You have my support."

Finally, my legs hurt from strain and I flopped down on my bed, keeping a thick towel over pillow to avoid getting it wet. Mia would always support me, never a doubt there. She had no children of her own and for all; I was the niece, daughter of her sister whom she loved more than anything. Her support had been one of essential abutment which got me through two med schools at same time. And her advice was what I needed. More like— her voice was what I wanted to hear.

"I will go. But I don't know when. I've been given a self-conducted four day leave but it's not about going to San Diego and seeing my dying father. It's about...meeting him. That face...those eyes...him everywhere." I shook my head, "I don't know if I'm strong enough to last a minute in his presence without breaking into a mess."

"He did not break you, Charlotte. How many times do I have to remind you? You are still standing, earning a name at such young age." She sternly said, "If my sister has ever learnt something better with that bastard then it was you. These people? These men out there who call themselves lifesavers during their work and lifetakers with their families? I might sound a cold hard bitch but I don't care if my brother-in-law succumbs to his cancer. His crimes are beyond salvation."