LITMIR.BIZ

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and headed straight for the kitchen in search of something cold to drink. Her apartment was an older one, and the appliances were almost as old, but at least the aging fridge worked well enough to keep her sodas cold, she thought, taking a big swallow of a diet lemon-lime beverage. The citrusy liquid flooded her throat with a satisfying bite, somewhat reviving her after being out in the heat of an Arkansas late-July afternoon. She’d grown up in this state, so she was accustomed to the oppressive, humid summer temperatures, but she still preferred the crisp, cool days of autumn.

      Her phone rang just as she dropped onto her couch to prop up her aching feet for a few minutes before she made dinner. Seeing her mother’s number on the ID screen, she smiled when she answered. “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”

      Haley’s parents still lived in Russellville where Haley had grown up, a one-hour or so drive from Haley’s Little Rock apartment complex. An only child, she was especially close with her mother, and they talked and saw each other as often as they could considering their hectic schedules. Her parents ran a busy restaurant, Pasta Wright, in Russellville, which kept them both running pretty much 24/7. Haley had worked in that establishment, herself, during her senior year of high school and for two years afterward before starting college, so she knew exactly how hard those days could be, though her parents still loved the work.

      Her mom adored hearing about Haley’s medical school experiences. Janice Wright had always encouraged her daughter to pursue any career she desired. She wanted Haley always to be able to take care of herself, to be a modern, independent woman with many roads open to her. Haley’s dad had been just as encouraging for her to go after her dreams, pushing her out of the restaurant and into college as soon as they were all sure the restaurant venture would survive.

      Her parents had offered to support her financially during her medical education by getting another mortgage on the house that was already collateral for their business, but she had refused to allow them to make that sacrifice. She would get by on loans, she assured them. If she was going to be an independent woman, she might as well start now.

      “Have you heard any more from that young man you were dating last month?” her mother asked as the conversation wound down. “Kris?”

      “No, Mom. I won’t be hearing from Kris anymore. I heard he’s seeing someone else now.”

      “And you’re really okay with that? You seemed so fond of him.”

      “I was fond of him. He’s a great guy. But it was never serious. We were just friends, hanging out and having a little fun. And it was my decision to go our separate ways. I’m staying busy with this rotation. After this one, I have pediatrics and then surgery, which involves really long hours. I just didn’t have the time or energy to devote to Kris—or anyone else—right now.”

      Haley had known from the start that Kris wouldn’t be in her life for long. After dating him only a few months, she had tactfully informed him it wasn’t fair to him to continue the way they had been, with her too busy to see him regularly and too distracted by thoughts of school when they were together. When he hadn’t even bothered to argue, she’d realized that he was rather relieved she had made that decision for them. It wasn’t giving up, she assured herself, when that outcome had been predetermined from the beginning.

      “Well—just remember you can’t work all the time. Have some fun when you can.”

      Her mom had warned her several times that, as important as her career might be, it shouldn’t be the only thing in Haley’s life. One must stay balanced, she counseled, with family and other interests to fill the hours away from work.

      “I’ll try to take a little time off when I can, Mom.”

      Not that there was much time to take. Even with the first two years behind her, the next two would be busy in their own way. Long hours in rotations, preparing for Step 2 of the licensure exams, applying and interviewing for residency programs. Becoming the physician she wanted to be.

      When the time was right, she would find someone to share her life with, Haley assured herself. In her experience, everything had a way of working out as it was meant to.

      Which sentiment would only give Ron more reason to tease her about her “optimistic cheerleader” attitude, she thought with a grimace as she and her mom concluded their call.

      She wondered impatiently why thoughts of Ron had popped into her head at just that moment.

      As they had vowed to try to do regularly during the remainder of medical school, the study group members met for dinner after work the following week, a rare evening when all five were free for a couple of hours. It still felt odd to Ron not to see his friends in classes every day. Though they stayed in touch, this was the first time they’d all been able to get together to compare notes on their rotations that had started two weeks earlier.

      Anne’s husband, Liam, and Connor’s wife, Mia, had been invited to join them this evening, but Liam was out of town on business, as he so often was, and Mia had opted to see a movie with her stepdaughter, instead. Ron suspected she’d done so to give the group a chance to share tales about their rotation experiences without worrying if they were boring her with their shoptalk.

      They sat in a big, round booth with plates of seafood and glasses of wine on the table in front of them. “How are your rotations going?” Ron asked, including everyone in the question.

      Connor Hayes spoke first. The father of eight-year-old Alexis, Connor had just celebrated his first wedding anniversary with Mia. Ron had attended that wedding, as had the other members of their group.

      “I’m enjoying geriatrics,” Connor said. “Had my second hospice visit this afternoon. I can see how much good the hospice teams do for the families in the end stages of their loved ones’ lives. I really admire the ones who do it every day, especially the volunteers.”

      “Are you considering geriatrics now?” Anne asked him.

      Smiling, Connor shook his head. “Still planning family practice. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, and I doubt I’ll change my mind during rotations.”

      “My psych rotation is pretty interesting, but it’s not on my list of possible specialties,” James Stillman commented. “I don’t mind it for this six weeks, but I think I’ll be ready to move on to something else by the time the rotation ends.”

      Twenty-nine-year-old James had already earned a doctorate in microbiology before he’d entered medical school. He had said once that he kept going to school to put off committing to any particular career, a sentiment Ron had laughingly agreed with.

      After dropping out of college his first semester after high school, Ron had drifted for a couple of years, trying several unsuccessful jobs before deciding to give college another try. Applying himself to his studies that time, he had done well enough in his classes—particularly his science classes—that his faculty advisor had encouraged him to consider medical school. Ron had taken the MCAT, the medical school admissions exam, half expecting he wouldn’t do well enough to even be considered. No one had been more startled than him when he’d received a very high score.

      Well—maybe his family had been more surprised. His dad had predicted Ron would drop out of medical school when it got too tough. His mother had worried aloud that Ron wasn’t doctor material, and that he’d only been setting himself up for disappointment. None of his siblings thought he’d ever make anything of himself; they’d expected him to settle for the same aimless and unfulfilling existence they led themselves.

      He’d made it through the interviews and had been placed on the alternates list for admission. Even then, he’d waited to be told that he hadn’t made it in. Apparently, enough first-choice applicants had declined to open up a slot for him. Rather dazed to have gotten that far, he’d secured his loans and shown up for classes—only to be slammed by the reality of the commitment he had made when he found out just how hard medical school really was. He’d been unprepared for the long hours, the constant stress, the sleep deprivation, the massive amounts of information he had been expected to learn and access on demand. Several times, he’d almost chucked it all

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