The Best Medicine

Chapter 14



“ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS, Mom?”

My mother was standing on a carpeted pedestal in a champagne-colored chiffon dress, eyeing herself in a gilded three-way mirror. As promised, I’d driven to Ann Arbor so we could spend the weekend together and go wedding dress shopping. This was the fifteenth or sixteenth gown she’d tried on. We’d been in this bridal salon for so long I think the shop had changed owners since we’d arrived.

She turned to see the reflection of her backside. “What? Do you think the color is bad on me? I rather like it.”

“No, the color is fine. I like that one. I’m talking about the wedding. Maybe the reason you can’t choose a dress is because you’re not sure you want to go through with this.”

Her breath expelled in a huff, and she faced me, hands on her hips. “Evelyn Marjorie Rhoades, the only reason I’m having trouble is because I’ve lost a few pounds since the last time I tried on dresses. Honestly, I had no idea you’d be so resistant to your father and me reconciling. I thought you’d be pleased.”

I was being a terrible maid of honor, tossing doubt her way every chance I got. But I couldn’t help it. This was my last-ditch effort to prevent her from making a big mistake.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m still having trouble figuring this whole situation out. I mean, I’m happy if you’re happy, but I’m worried too.”

“Why? That’s silly. Your father and I are both certain this is the right thing to do.”

“See? That right there worries me. Usually when you start a sentence with ‘your father and I,’ it ends with ‘and then we nearly killed each other.’”

My mother chuckled, and I realized how very happy she looked. She looked younger and brighter. That perpetual crease of tension was missing from her forehead. It was as if she’d had work done, but I knew she hadn’t. She would have come to me for that.

“I know it’s a little strange, darling. But the truth is, we’ve changed. He’s not the same man he was ten years ago. And I’m not the same woman. We’ve relaxed.” She stepped down from her perch and came to sit next to me on the pink satin sofa in the changing room.

“Evie, I’m ready to retire. I want to take time to enjoy my life for a little while. All I’ve done for the past forty years is work. Now I see you doing the exact same thing, setting up a life full of professional achievements but having no one to share them with. That’s why I’m pushing you to find someone special. It’s not good to be alone all the time. It makes us brittle.”

I looked down as she patted my hand. Hers appeared more delicate now, with veins showing under the surface. But I knew they were still strong, still talented, still resilient. My mother was a brilliant surgeon. Those hands had saved countless lives, and the idea of her retiring was as incomprehensible to me as her being abducted by aliens.

“Retiring, huh? Is Dad retiring too?”

“He’s cutting back his hours so we can do some traveling. We’re going to Italy for our honeymoon. We’d wanted to go there the first time around, but we both had school loans to pay off. Those were the frugal days.” She laughed as if that bleak hardship was a lovely memory.

She adjusted the pillow behind her. “Listen, darling. There’s something else I want to tell you. I wasn’t going to, but your father thinks I should. I have a little confession.”

Confession? Confessions, like apologies, were rare in our family. My body heated with suspense.

“OK?” I said slowly. “What confession?”

She gave a minute shrug of her shoulders, a tiny bob of her head, as if this admission were the most insignificant thing ever.

“Last summer I had a minor cardiac incident. That’s how I really reconnected with your father. Not a wine tasting in La Jolla, although that’s where things really heated up.”

My mouth went dry as gauze as I tried to swallow down my wave of apprehension.

“A minor cardiac incident? Don’t use that ambiguous lingo on me, Mom. What exactly are we talking about here? And last summer? Why am I just finding this out now?” My voice squeaked. I was about to have my own cardiac incident, judging from the wild thumping going on in my chest.

“It’s nothing.” She patted my hand again, but now it felt patronizing, as if I wouldn’t understand the implications of what she had to say. Had she conveniently forgotten I went to medical school too?

“I had an arrhythmia,” she said. “It ended up being nothing. I think my hormones are out of whack. Goddamn menopause. But I had a little fainting spell in the operating room. I cannot tell you how humiliating that was, passing out like some fragile intern.” She scoffed and shook her head. Weakness, physical or mental, wasn’t something we tolerated in our family either.

“You fainted?” Maybe it was the power of suggestion, but I felt a little woozy myself. I put a hand to my temple as if that might steady me.

“Oh, I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

“Yes, you should! You should’ve told me when it happened! What if it had been more serious?” Concern over her well-being was replaced with worried annoyance. It was wrong for her to keep this a secret from me!

She waved away my comment with a flick of her wrist. “Well, then I would’ve told you sooner, but it turned out to be medically insignificant. You know how sometimes these things turn out to be nothing. And Evelyn, in a way, it was the best thing that could have happened. It forced me to reevaluate all my priorities. I have an excellent cardiologist, and since I’m being honest, I also have a therapist now. I unloaded all that rage and resentment I’ve been hauling around for years, and I feel better than ever. You’d think by my age I would have figured things out, but apparently I was a hot, jumbled mess. I blamed all of that on your father, of course, but apparently some of it was my own fault.”

She flipped her hands open in her lap, as if to say, Huh? Who knew?

“Your fault?”

“Well, I was pretty mad about the adultery.” Her tone was blasé, as if she’d said, I wish I’d ordered the roast beef.

“Of course you were mad, Mom. He cheated on you.” I felt some of my own latent resentment rising to the surface. He’d been nearly as lousy a father as he was a husband.

My mother stood up and walked toward the mirror, the dress swishing around her legs. She got close, looking at her reflection as if she were seeing it for the first time. Her voice remained utterly matter-of-fact.


“Yes, he cheated on me, and that was his weakness. But I wasn’t entirely blameless. It was never enough for me to be as good a surgeon as he was. I wanted to be better. But the male ego is a delicate thing, Evie. He went after those vapid women because he needed to take care of someone, and I never let him do that for me. I should have given him a dragon to slay once in a while, instead of always being the dragon.”

The room tilted. Maybe my mother had been abducted by aliens, and this was just the shell of her body being manipulated by some extraterrestrial mind-snatcher, because I’d never heard her be so philosophical or reflective. I’d never heard her take ownership of any of her own behavior. What the hell had that therapist prescribed for her?

“You are rocking my world right now, Mom.” My voice was a breathy whisper.

She smiled at herself and then turned back around. “This is all supposed to be good news, darling. I’m perfectly healthy and I’m taking better care of myself than ever before. So is your father, and we’re both certain we’ll get our marriage right this time.”

“OK.” I said it slow, as if the word might detonate.

There was so much more I should add, and ask, but my mind was like an overstuffed suitcase I was trying to close. I just couldn’t cram any more oddities in there for this trip. Cardiac arrhythmias, forgiven adultery, apologies, admissions. Was this the kind of stuff grown-up families dealt with all the time? Maybe that was a healthier way to live, but I couldn’t really say I liked it. Denial had its advantages.

“I like that dress,” I said instead.

She twirled like a homecoming queen. “Do you? I do too. This might be the one.” She sashayed her way over to the couch and sat back down. “I’m very happy, honey. Please be happy for me.”

“I am. I really am.” And I realized then, I really was. Who’s to say she and my dad couldn’t make a go of it? Lord knew they were both stubborn enough to stick with it this time, if they wanted to.

“Do you suppose that store clerk is ever coming back?” My mother looked over her shoulder for the salon attendant.

“We’ve been here so long I think they’ve all gone to lunch.” My stomach rumbled at the mention of it. “And I’m starving.”

“Good. I’ll take you to a nice restaurant after this. In the meantime, tell me what you’ve been up to. You said you had someone in mind to bring to the wedding.” She leaned back against the sofa. “Is he special?”

Special? Hmm. That word had all sorts of connotations, and Tyler Connelly could fit several of them.

“Let’s just say I’ve met some very interesting men lately, and I have been making an effort.”

Her eyes went twinkly. “And?”

I could tell her about Bell Harbor Singles, but so far that had proven disastrous. And I could tell her about Tyler, but I knew when she said someone special, she meant someone with true marriage potential, someone wearing scrubs or an expensive suit and tie. My mother wasn’t a snob, per se, but her expectations tended to be very specific.

“And you’ll just have to trust me.”