When it came down to it, Isabella thought her mom was a sucker for tradition. Her mother liked the romance of the courtship, proposal, and wedding. Isabella found it all to be silly. A woman could be in a meaningful, long-term relationship without tying her identity to a man’s.
Isabella finally fell asleep on the couch, the show still playing in the background. While she slept, she had a dream that instead of meeting her mom for dinner, James had prepared an elaborate surprise wedding.
She walked down the aisle in scrubs with disheveled hair to find James waiting at the altar, dressed in a tux, looking dapper as ever. She couldn’t hear the vows because her mom was screaming at her to put on a dress and look like a lady.
Then, when she signed the marriage certificate, the priest took her medical license and burned it in the unity candle. This set the whole church ablaze with Isabella trapped in the middle.
She woke up, sweaty and shivering on her couch. An infomercial for a toaster oven was blaring in the background. She grabbed her phone and crawled back into bed.
I’m not feeling well, Isabella texted James. I don’t know if I can make it tonight.
She felt clammy and had a stomach ache. Her heart was pounding and her head hurt.
What’s wrong?
I feel awful. Everything hurts.
Don’t move. I’m coming over.
Please, don’t. Just let me curl up and die here, she said dramatically.
About twenty minutes later, Isabella heard a knock at the door. With her eyes half-open, she stumbled through the hallway to answer it.
“Wow, you look terrible,” James said cheerfully.
“Thanks.”
“Go back to bed,” he ordered. “I’ll make you some tea.”
He entered the bedroom minutes later with a piping hot mug of tea. Isabella managed a small sip.
“What are your symptoms?” he asked.
Isabella rattled off her list of ailments.
“So, what is the diagnosis?” he asked.
“I’m not really in the mood for a quiz,” she groaned.
“Fine. I’d say that your symptoms are brought on by stress and anxiety.”
“Great,” she said sarcastically. “What’s my treatment?”
“I could probably prescribe you something to calm you down,” he said. “Or you can just tell me what’s bothering you.”
“It’s this stupid dinner tonight,” she said. “My mom is in my head.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” he said, curling up in bed behind her.
“There’s just too much going on. First, I haven’t seen my mom in quite a while. We’re not really close, so conversations are not a ton of fun. We just don’t have that much in common.”
“Okay,” James said, nodding. “What else?”
“Second, I’m meeting her husband for the first time. Who meets their parent’s spouse after the wedding?”
He waved his hand. “You’ve forgotten who you’re talking to.”
“Oh, right. She said it was no big deal if I missed the wedding, but I still feel guilty about it.”
“Anything else?” he pressed.
“Finally, I have the added pressure of introducing my mother to my boyfriend, something I have never done in my life.”
“Never?”
“Nope. Any past boyfriends never made it to that point.”
“Wow.” He giggled. “I feel honored.”
She gave a dramatic exhale.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t want to go,” she whined, stuffing her head into her pillow.
James reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sealed package.
“I brought this just in case,” he said, unwrapping the drug sample. “Here, take it. It will make you feel better.”
“Where did you get that?” she asked.
“From the hospital, duh.” He laughed. “You don’t think I’m immune to moments of anxiety, do you?”
She took the tiny pill and washed it down with her tea.
“Perks of being a doctor,” he said.
Isabella settled her head back down on the pillow. James softly raked through her hair with his fingertips. She closed her eyes and listened to his gentle voice.
“Everything is going to be okay, Isabella. We’ll have a short dinner, and I’ll be by your side the whole time. When it’s over, we can head back to my place for a little fun.”
“What did you have in mind?” she mumbled.
“Something to make this all worthwhile.”
She smiled. When his words weren’t enough, his body never failed to cheer her up.
“How are you feeling now?”
“Better,” she said. “I’m feeling pretty drowsy, though. Are you sure you didn’t give me roofies?”
“I suppose you’ll find out,” he joked. “Only kidding. Between the mild sedative and the sleepy time tea, I’d say you’re about ready for a nap. Have you eaten anything?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t have the appetite.”
Without another word, he disappeared into the kitchen. While he was away, she thought about how sweet he was to drop everything and tend to her when she was unwell. It wouldn’t have occurred to her to do the same for him, yet she wanted to repay the favor in some way.