She understood instantly. She knew the cupboards were still stuffed with his parents’ clothes and possessions. She’d never said anything because it wasn’t her issue to push. She gave a nod. ‘Let me pick up Regan and I’ll help you when I get back.’ She turned to leave then gave a little smile. ‘Stick around for a bit in case Lien needs anything prescribed.’
She knew he was frustrated about his friend and letting him feel valuable would help them both. Joe shouldn’t really prescribe anything for his wife, so until Ron arrived, Duc would be in charge.
‘Sure.’ He nodded and took a seat behind the desk at the nurses’ station. Somehow Viv knew he would still be sitting there when she got back.
* * *
Duc was feeling odd. He supposed it wasn’t unusual. He’d collected a host of boxes and bags. Viv appeared at the bedroom door, looking looked a little paler than normal. ‘Let’s be methodical about this,’ she said. She’d changed into a pair of old joggers and an oversized T-shirt, her hair tied up high on her head. He was glad. She knew exactly how big a job this was going to be.
She went to one of the kitchen drawers, found a black marker and started writing on a few of the boxes. The word Goodwill adorned a few, Keep adorned another, and at the last second she paused, finally writing Completed on it.
‘Okay,’ she breathed. ‘We’ll start with the clothes. Anything that’s in good or reasonable condition goes to goodwill, anything you want to keep for yourself goes in the keep box, and the rest of things, like underwear, et cetera, we’ll put in the completed box.’
Now he understood. She hadn’t wanted to write Garbage or Disposal on it. Completed was a nicer way to label all the things he’d have to take to the dump.
He nodded. She grabbed her phone and set it on the speakers. He wondered what she was doing, but then a familiar playlist filled his ears. It was songs they’d listened to across the span of their friendship. Most of them had a memory attached. But it was a memory of Viv and Duc—usually fun and light-hearted. Feel-good sorts of songs. Something to distract them while they worked. She pulled out a bowl and filled it with the chocolate they always ate in the UK.
‘Where did you get them?’ he asked.
She smiled. ‘I had them stashed. Seemed like a good time to share.’
He leaned over and gave her a hug, not letting it mean anything more than it should. She was doing this for him.
It was harder than he’d thought. Every now and then a flash of his mum or dad’s clothing would give him a flashback—a memory from the past. Several times he had to stop and just breathe. Viv watched quietly.
She was methodical, folding his mother’s clothes into piles neatly in the appropriate box. He hesitated over a familiar shirt of his father’s. He eventually shook his head and put it in the goodwill box along with the others.
Books were next, with him keeping a few. Then shoes which were all bagged up for goodwill too. The photograph albums he left in a cupboard. They could be done another day. Viv helped him wrap some older ornaments in tissue paper and pack them away. A few were sentimental but some could go.
He watched as she sighed as she wrapped things in tissue paper, her hands pausing. Her voice was quiet. ‘Last time I did this was for my mum.’
She glanced up at him. He could see the hidden tears in her eyes. ‘My adoptive mum,’ she clarified. ‘You think that you’re ready but packing up the house is hard. It hits your gut in places you just don’t expect it to.’
He reached over and laid his hand over hers for a second. He’d expected this to be hard, but he’d forgotten that this would bring up memories for Viv too.
‘You don’t need to help.’ His voice was hoarse.
Her eyes met his. ‘Yes,’ she said clearly. ‘I do.’
She stood and walked through to the bedroom, coming out a few moments later with his mother’s jewellery box in her hands. ‘What about this?’ she asked tentatively. ‘Will we just put it somewhere safe?’
He shook his head and held his hands out. ‘Bring it here. My mum had a vast collection of jewellery, most of it just decorative. There are only a few things that are special.’
She sat next to him on the sofa and set the wooden box on his knees. Duc paused for a moment, noticing his hands were shaking. This should be routine. There were millions of people around the world who’d had to do this. He wasn’t the first person to pack up the belongings of his mother and father.
He opened the box and lifted out the first item, a black jewelled necklace. It was something his mother had worn frequently because it had gone with lots of her clothes. He passed it to Viv without a word. A long silver chain followed, then a necklace with a large red charm. There were a number of bracelets and bangles. Some he didn’t recognise at all, and he passed them one by one to Viv. He stopped at a tri-gold bangle, the three colour strands twisted together. He put that back in the box. It had been an anniversary present from his father.
Then there was a gold locket. He turned it over in his hands. It was followed by an emerald-and-diamond ring. His mother and father had been buried wearing their wedding rings. He hadn’t thought to question where his mother’s engagement ring was. He hadn’t thought about it until now.
A sound caught in his throat.
Viv’s hand came next to his. She intertwined their pinkies but didn’t say the words. She didn’t have to. The warm feeling spread through his skin.
‘Of course,’ he said softly. ‘She wouldn’t wear her engagement ring at work. Infection control.’ His finger ran across the face of the emerald with diamonds set on either side.
Viv spoke quietly. ‘It’s nice, you know. That you have something to cherish that belonged to your parents. Something you can keep and remember them by.’ Her voice had a strange tone to it. ‘I remember your mother wearing that ring on occasion. She loved it. It meant so much to her.’
He looked up to catch the expression on her face. It made him catch his breath.
The look in her eyes was distant. It wasn’t envy, it was sorrow. It struck straight to his heart.
This was the second time he’d realised what he had in comparison to her. How not everyone grew up with happy memories and safe lives.
He took the last things from the box, leaving just the bangle, the locket and the ring. His eyes fell on the packed boxes covering the floor. ‘I think this is enough for today.’
She nodded and pressed her lips together. ‘Sometimes I wonder if you know what you’ve got here, Duc.’
He looked up sharply. ‘What do you mean?’
She took a deep breath. ‘I mean, I like this place. It’s already wonderful, and you could make it even better. I haven’t even seen the other two hospitals. I have no idea of the potential there.’
He was surprised. ‘Viv, you almost sound like you don’t want to move on.’
She stood up quickly, not wanting to get into any conversation
s like this. ‘You know me,’ she said breezily. ‘I don’t put down roots.’ But when she swallowed there was a lump in her throat. Even though they were sorting through Duc’s parents’ things, it was hitting her hard. It was bringing home to her just how isolated an existence she led. Who would do this for her one day? She couldn’t even bear to think about it.
She’d spent so long being self-sufficient, not giving any part of herself to someone else, because she didn’t trust anyone with her heart, and her life.
She blinked away the tears that formed in her eyes. Even Duc. She’d pushed away the one person who’d managed to break through her barriers a little.
Now it was her turn to have shaky hands. She’d seen the relationship between Lien and Joe. It actually made her stomach ache she envied it so much—the togetherness. The ‘us against the world’ mentality of it all. Joe had lost his first wife. How hard had it been for him to reach out again?
She sucked in a breath through her teeth, willing it to steady her hands and her heart rate. Tiny parts of Hanoi had been tugging away at her heart this past few months.
She loved the people, she loved the buzz of the streets, she loved the work. It was the first time in a job where she hadn’t started automatically looking for something else a few months in.
But Duc was a huge, huge part of this.
Would she want to stay if he wasn’t here?
His voice was quiet. ‘But you can’t be like that for ever. At some point, in some place, you might find a place that you don’t want to leave six months later. Do you think this could be the place?’
It was almost like he was reading her mind.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. ‘How can it be the place, Duc? It’s yours. It belongs to you—and you don’t even want to be here.’
She could feel the anger rise in her chest. ‘I’ve told you before to look around you—look at what you potentially have. But you don’t want it.’ She shook her head. ‘I just don’t get it. Everything handed to you on a plate and you want to walk away.’ Now she really was shaking all over. ‘I saw the email. You didn’t even tell me about it—but I know you’re going back to the surgical programme. So what’s the point of asking me if I want to stay when you want to run away?’