Page 57 of Delayed Intention

Time Takes Time

Still staring down at my phone, I can’t believe this is the end of it.

Not sure what to do, I’m frozen at my desk until Brenda, our medical assistant, pops her head in.

She’s been with Dr. Hendricks for years and has been a lifesaver as I’m learning my way around the clinic.

Not to mention that she’s keeping me supplied with coffee and homemade muffins.

A pleasant and cheerful lady, not much younger than my own mother, she tends to wear scrubs in vibrant colors to match her energy and mood.

Today, she is wearing bright red scrubs and has her carrot-colored hair in what I know from my nieces is a crown braid around her head.

“Dr. Cohen, the last patient is ready in room three. I shared the reason for his visit in the chart whenever you are ready. He has some mild dementia, so his wife is with him.”

“Okay, thank you Brenda. Do me a favor and offer them some tea or water. I need a few minutes. Do you mind closing my door?”

“No problem!” She sing-songs back at me, humming to herself, and she walks back to room three and lets them know I will be delayed.

I walk over to the bathroom in my office and splash water on my face, grimacing at the bags under my eyes and the unkempt state of my beard.

It grew in over the last three weeks when I couldn’t be bothered to shave, so it has just grown.

Glancing at my reflection I think it is giving me the don’t-fucking-talk-to-me-unless-I-ask-you-to look I was definitely going for.

Of course, it has been more laziness born from my depression that has grown the beard than actual intention.

I groan, leaning on the counter.

I told Lily I would respect her decision, and in theory, of course I do. But I can’t help but feel panicked at the idea of letting her go. How can I just go on, trying to live my life as if she is not out there, with my heart in her hands?

This is my worst nightmare. Okay, get it together, Cohen. There are worse things. Many of them and you know it. Terminal illness. War. Animal cruelty.

Lily is the one person I’d do anything for. Even if that means letting her go, if that’s what she really wants.

I guess I will just go on then. Existing.

Sighing, I take a sip of my lukewarm coffee and review the next patient’s record. He’s here for a routine wellness exam and some prescription refills. I sort through his recent labs and previous notes before heading in, thankful for something to do to distract me from my own fucked life.

In the exam room sits an elderly couple, her with a walker and him with a cane.

They are together on the chairs, holding hands.

This is another reminder that love is available to everyone except me, apparently.

Stop with the self-pity, asshole. My life may not get better, but the least I can do for the patient in front of me is make their appointment time about them and not about me.

I introduce myself to them and try to pretend I’m not thinking about Lily in the back of my mind.

After the last patient, Brenda’s reappears in my office doorway. “Okay Dr. Cohen. I’ve restocked and I’m headed home. I brewed you another half a pot of coffee since you seemed to have a few charts to finish.”

Brenda is being generous. I haven’t finished a single chart and we both know it.

“Thank you, Brenda, you have been invaluable, as always. And thanks for the coffee.”

I don’t add that I haven’t been sleeping well as it’s stating the obvious. Making friendly small talk, rather than oversharing, seems to be Brenda’s vibe. I decide, not for the first time, that I really like her. As much for what she doesn’t say as for what she does say.

“Goodnight, Dr. Cohen. Don’t work too hard.”

“Goodnight.” Forcing a smile to my lips, I hope it looks grateful and not menacing.

She goes out the front, and I hear the chime that makes me think of the interrupted kiss between Lily and me.

Dragging myself to the little kitchen, and pouring myself a cup of coffee, I head back into my office and finish up the records for the day.

I play Panic At the Disco while I’m working because it is the least likely band to remind me of anything to do with Lily.

After I’ve signed my last note, I review lab results and finish with prescription refill requests that Brenda forwarded to me in our electronic system.

Once I’ve finished, I go to the back office to shut the place down and head home.

Walking home, I began to formulate a plan for my next steps.

There has to be a way that I can make another appeal, ask her to give me a chance to prove my commitment to her, without coming off like a creep or seeming overly pushy.

Thinking over this conundrum, I landed on the doorstep of my home without realizing how I got there.

I missed the whole walk over. The walk from the clinic to my home is just a few blocks but the river is alongside the path, roaring along as loud as ever.

I’ve been so in my head; I can’t remember the last time I heard it.

I head into my house and change into sweats before leashing Ginger and walking back over to one of the benches along the riverwalk.

My sweet dog was thrilled that I was not only home but that we were headed back out together, if her tail wagging was anything to judge by.

Once we arrive at an open bench, though, I sit and just listen to the river, while Ginger hops up to sit beside me.

It’s still quite cool out, especially as the sun goes down, and I start to absorb the briskness of the air on my skin as well as hear the rush and bubbling of the water flowing by.

After a while, I walk back home, determined.

While I’m not certain how to repair my mess, I’m resolved not to give up.

Whatever else I may have left to say to Lily needs to be said in person. The letters may be romantic, but this will need to be a face-to-face conversation.

I feel my cell phone vibrate in my pocket and look to see a text from Jenny Park, Lily’s cousin. Her text is asking me to call her, explaining she has something to discuss concerning Lily.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Jenny? It’s Josh Cohen. You asked me to call?”

“Yes. Hey Josh. Thanks for calling. So, listen, I had an odd text from my cousin today, and it concerns you.”

Jenny goes on to explain she was given the idea—planted by her Aunt Ellen—to ask me out, but that she should ask Lily first. She tells me something I think Roselyn didn’t even realize: Ellen had set this all up before dinner even began, suggesting Jenny should approach Lily after dinner.

Of course, as I had already heard, when the Passover dinner devolved into Ellen belittling Lily in front of everyone, Jenny could tell that she had been set up.

She also says she could tell from Lily’s reaction that there was likely some feeling there, on Lily’s part.

Unable to wrap my head around how Ellen justifies any of her part in this, I shake it off and refocus on what Jenny is telling me.

“So Lily sends me this text today stating I should ask you out. She said there was nothing going on between you two, but it seemed like the opposite of the truth.”

“Yeah, well… you’re right and also wrong.”

I tell her what Lily said to me and my current dilemma.

“Maybe I can help?” Jenny asks.

“Okay, so my question is, how do I respect her wishes, but also ask for another chance?”

“Josh, you’re overthinking this. I think you should give her some time and try an in-person approach once you get a feel for whether she may be receptive.”

“I’m afraid I will lose my chance with her.”

Jenny chuckles at that. “Yeah… I saw it on her face, the way she speaks about you. You have plenty of time. She’s as in love with you as you are with her. That doesn’t just go away.”

“Jenny, you’re kind of good at this. I think everyone I’ve talked to before now has been too emotionally involved in the outcome to put it so clearly.”

“Well, I’m just telling you the approach I’d like if it were me.”

“Waiting is going to be hard.” I sighed.

“It’s essential, I’m telling you—time takes time.”

“I think I know that, but it’s still going to be a challenge.”

“She’s worth the wait, wouldn’t you say?”

“She is.” I’ve waited this long for her. And she is worth it.