Their orders arrived and they concentrated for a moment on twirling soba noodles onto chopsticks. And then Mia remembered something cute Alexis had said when she’d picked her up at school that afternoon. Which led to another anecdote and then another. By the time they’d finished their meals, she realized that they’d talked about nothing but Alexis since their food had been served.
What had they talked about before she’d entered their lives? “Um, how’s everyone in your study group?” she asked, unable to come up with another sp
ur-of-the-moment topic.
He grimaced. “Everyone needs a rest,” he admitted. “Christmas break can’t get here soon enough.”
“A little tension among the group?”
“A little. Everyone’s tired and stressed. Ron and Haley seem to be especially getting on each other’s nerves. I really hope they can get past that. We’ve all studied so well together to this point.”
“Lack of sleep compounded by the pressure of constant testing has to be nerve-wracking. It’s no wonder if some of them get a little cranky every once in a while.”
“Cranky?” he repeated with a slight grin. “They aren’t schoolkids, Mia.”
She laughed. “I figure one student is pretty much like another, no matter what age. And from my experience, students get cranky.”
“You’re probably right. I think we’re all getting cranky. We had a classwide counseling session yesterday. They made us sit through another speaker who told us to get plenty of rest, cut back on the drinking, balance our studies with family and recreation and visit the counseling center if we start feeling overwhelmed.”
“Sounds like good advice.”
“Yeah, sure it is. Of course, even as they’re advising us to rest and spend time doing something other than studying, they’re piling on more lectures and slides and assignments for us to memorize and regurgitate on endless exams. And reminding us that if we don’t do well, we’ll wash out or we won’t get into a decent residency program. And if we don’t remember all we’re learning for the Step One exam next year, we’re screwed, anyway.”
She could see the tension building in him again as he spoke, the lines deepening around his eyes and mouth. Had those lines been there before he started medical school? She didn’t remember. “You can do this, Connor,” she said quietly.
He exhaled gustily and reached for his water glass. After taking a sip, he set the glass down and said, “We were told that something like ninety-nine percent of all medical students seriously consider quitting med school during the first two years. That number didn’t surprise me in the least.”
“I think that’s to be expected. I’ve heard that most grad students think about dropping out at some point, too. Probably when it all just seems to get harder and harder and feels as though it will never end.”
He tilted his head and gave her a faint smile. “I’m whining again, aren’t I?”
Grinning, she gave a little shrug. “I understand it’s a common symptom with first-year medical students.”
“It occurs to me,” he said as he drove toward his house a few minutes later, “that we’ve talked about my daughter and my med school complaints tonight. We’ve talked very little about you.”
She laughed lightly. “That’s because there’s very little to say. I haven’t done anything particularly exciting lately.”
“Because you’ve been so busy taking care of Alexis. And me.”
She shook her head in response to his rueful comment. “No. I haven’t been turning down thrilling opportunities because of either of you. You know how it is this time of year at work—moving closer to the end of the semester, getting the juniors ready for the PSATs and the seniors for their AP tests, endless meetings and paperwork.”
“I remember.” He sounded almost wistful. “Still,” he said as he guided the car into his carport, “I want you to feel free to have fun with your friends when you have the chance. Don’t turn down any invitations because of Alexis and me. We’ll manage.”
“I won’t,” she promised. She saw no reason to add that she’d had no invitations recently that had been more appealing than an evening with Alexis and Connor.
Connor closed the kitchen door behind them, tossing his keys into the small basket he kept on the counter for that purpose. He stood for a moment in the middle of the kitchen floor, his expression hard to read, and then he gave her a crooked smile. “Funny, isn’t it, how different the house feels now without Alexis in it?”
She smiled. “However did we entertain ourselves before she arrived?”
“I vaguely remember some heated games of Scrabble. Want me to get out the board?”
She lifted an eyebrow. Connor really was taking a break from studying tonight. They hadn’t played Scrabble since he’d started medical school. “I’d like that, if you have time.”
“I’ll make time.”
“I’ll put on the kettle for tea.”
“Sounds good,” he said, moving toward the living room.