GAVIN
“This leak is really bad, Mom. Why didn’t you just call a plumber?”
Water poured out of the joint where the flex hose joined the shut-off valve. One of the O-rings had rusted out and broke loose. With Dad away on his trip abroad, Mom called on me to take care of it for her. So, there I was, sprawled out on her kitchen floor with a soaking-wet t-shirt and water spraying in my face.Content © copyrighted by .
“I did call a plumber. I called thirteen of them to be exact. And not a single one has time today, or any day for more than a week for that matter. Who else was I going to call? And what was I going to do? I can’t very well stay here with all this water spraying everywhere. I don’t even know how to turn it off. I'd have to take Mittens to a hotel and stay for a week.” Her lip poked out and I wished there was a bird around to poop on it the way she used to scare me as a kid.
Mom spoke with her usual dramatic flair, sounding like a helpless victim who needed to be rescued. I was sort of tired of being her knight in shining armor when Dad wasn't around, but I didn’t have a choice.
I reached up and turned off the cold water, so it would stop spraying out. The water slowed to a trickle, then a drip. “Hand me some towels.” I held my hand out to her, unable to see where she was. I lay with my upper torso half crammed in the cabinet below the sink. Mittens’s nails clicked on the floor as he walked up to me and began licking at the puddle on the floor around me. A few moments later I heard Mom's rushed footsteps as she approached.
“No, Mittens! Icky! No, baby don’t drink that” A few towels dropped on my stomach, and I heard Mittens dog collar jingle as Mom scooped him up off the floor.
Sometimes I swore my mother cared more about that dog than anything else, including her half-a-million-dollar house.
Ignoring her nasally voice as she lectured her dog for drinking “floor water,” I set to work drying the pipes off to ensure it was only residual dripping and not still a leak. And when I was certain it was not leaking anymore, I extricated myself from the cabinet and sat up, using the towels to dry the rest of the cabinet, the floor, and then lastly, myself.
“You didn't tell me I was going to need to change clothes before going home." I chuckled, trying to make light of the situation so Mom stayed calm and didn’t get flustered when I told her the bad news.
“Well, how was I supposed to know!”
I was too late. Mom held Mittens under one arm, a towel in her other hand, drying his paws off.
I stood, putting the wet towels into the sink, and closed the cabinet doors. My shirt clung to me and chilled me a bit in her air-conditioned kitchen, but I knew the moment I went outside I would just bake again anyway.
“So, you will need that plumber. Looks like the O-ring around the pipe holding it to the fitting went bad.” I wiped my hands on the front of my jeans.
“You can't fix it?” Mom pouted, her bottom lip out. She sat Mittens down on the kitchen counter and I cringed, wondering if that was a typical thing.
“Mom, I'm a surgeon, not a plumber. I hire people to do this stuff for me so I don’t have to. I'm certain I could do the work, but you don’t pay me for stuff like this.”
Mom rolled her eyes at me and scoffed. “What type of husband are you even going to make one day? I mean seriously, Gavin. It's just a leaky pipe.”
I laughed at her. She sounded ridiculous. Before I even thought about it, I had replied. “If it's so easy, why didn’t you do it?”
She glared at me; her nostrils flared. “Your wife is in for a big surprise.”
“My wife will want for nothing” I kept the snark out of my tone, but I wanted to unleash on her. She was so selfish sometimes, making life only about her.
“If you ever get one.” Mom took the towel in her hand and wiped it across the counter—the same towel that had bee used on the dog's feet. “You know Selma Wyatt that is in my bridge club just told me she is on grandchild number I4 Fourteen! Can you believe that? And I don’t have one.”
How on earth did my ability or lack thereof when it came to plumbing turn into a discussion about my love life yet again? I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “Mom, I'll call my guy and he will come out either today or tomorrow. He's super-fast and will get the work done for you quickly.” I had no intention of sticking around for her continued badgering, so I headed for the door, my shoes squeaking on the wet floor.
“You should really think about what I'm saying, Gavin. You're 38 now. As it stands, you'll have to marry someone half your age just to have grandchildren for me, and by the time they are ready to go off to college I'll be in the grave and you'll be in a home, for Christ's sake.”
All I could think of was Madison and whether she would fit Mom's picture of the “perfect woman.” Not like it really mattered much because whether or not she approved, I was pursuing Madison with everything I had. I was certain Mom had some trophy wife ideal for what would make me happy. She had never been thrilled with my love of the outdoors and adventure, so she likely wouldn't be pleased with Madii's personality.
“When I get married, and who I choose should not really be that important to you. Having grandchildren is not a competition. You can’t “keep up with the Joneses’ when it involves major life choices of your children.” I started toward the door again.
“Yes, well I'm not competing. I just would like to enjoy being a grandmother before I'm dead.”
“Bye, Mom,” I called over my shoulder as I let myself out. The moment I stepped into the sun as I strolled down the cobblestone path in front of her house, I felt warm again, despite being wet from my waist up. I peeled the wet t-shi off and tossed it into my back seat before sliding behind the wheel.
Mom had a way of pressing every one of my buttons. She'd always been able to do that since I was a kid. I was the kind of kid who could be disciplined by a stern look of disappointment—no grounding or spanking needed at all. Anymore, her stern looks didn’t bother me, but the pressure to be different did.
Feeling a bit frustrated, I dialed Madii’s number, hoping she'd help me perk up, but she didn’t answer. So, I left her a sweet voicemail and drove across town with my thoughts. Things had started to look up for me in my love life, but I didn’t dare tell Mom yet, or she'd demand to meet Madison and likely that would ruin it. After she told me that she was on the pill, I figured she had no interest in having kids yet. She was about as adventure-seeking as they came.
I pulled into my estate, punching the gate code in, and then headed to my house. About the time I pulled into my driveway, my phone rang. The caller ID read Tanya Smith, and my heart sank. The only reason she'd call me on my personal cell phone was for Drew. After leaving the nagging session with my mother, then not catching Madii for that call, I was really frustrated and not wanting to deal with bad news of any kind, but I answered the call anyway.
“It's Gavin.”
“Hey, Dr. Carpenter. How is your weekend going?”
Tanya's voice was not filled with uncertainty or remorse, but a strange hint of happiness. Her normal strict professional tone had been replaced by something new.
“It's okay. Just spent some time with my mom. How about you?” I wondered about the purpose of the call. Tanya and I weren't friends, and even though she was a colleague, she was not in neurosurgery, so we didn’t have that much in common.
“Well, you know I'm working this weekend, so that's not new. But I got a call from Gary Fenke from John’s Hopkins. They have a new treatment for long-term coma patients I think you should know about.”
“Really?” I wasn't sure whether I should be elated for my patients in general, or nervous for one in particular. There was always a risk involved in every new or experimental treatment. There were also benefits if things worked. Either way a new treatment for Drew would mean Madison being informed, which would put her on edge in our relationshij again, and just when we were getting somewhere.
“Yeah, I'll send you the link and his phone number. It's just out of trials and they haven't announced it yet, so you'll be one of the first to try it. Some sort of deep brain stimulation.”
“Yeah, wow. Thanks, Tanya. I'll watch for that today.” I put my car in park, turned it off and grabbed my phone from the hands-free unit.
“No problem. Have a great day.”
Tanya hung up and I got out of my car, snatching my wet shirt. Every step toward my front door was laced with dread my feet cinder blocks on the sidewalk. Patty and Jim, my next-door neighbors, waved at me, and I forced a smile and a jerk of the hand, but my insides churned.
Madison and I finally made some progress. She was ready to see where this took us, and I had no intention of giving her up now. The moment I had staked my claim, she became mine in my mind. My heart was too attached to let anything take that away.
My mind raced as I let myself in the house, then headed to my den, tossing my shirt in the hamper on the way past. I sat down at my computer to see no email from Tanya yet, but I looked up her friend's name and John’s Hopkins, and found some trials he'd be involved in. Deep brain stimulation and certain other surgery techniques to awaken dormant function in gray matter.
The more I read, the scientist inside of me became fascinated. It was one of the reasons I'd even entered into this field of medical science. The way the brain functions and controls everything was interesting. I ended up spending more than an hour researching some things about the trials. I only stopped when my stomach growled, reminding me it was time to eat.
I made my turkey on rye with so many thoughts swirling in my mind I nearly lost my appetite. First things first, I had to speak with Tanya's friend and get all the details. Then I had to decide if any of my patients may benefit from the treatment, and if so, who. Then, if warranted, I'd speak with Drew's parents. The problem was, given the outcome of the last event with Drew and me not giving Madison the information, I feared she'd be upset again.
I carried my sandwich and a soda back to the den to sulk and do more research. It was a huge weight to carry arounc with me, but I didn’t have a choice.