Page 28 of Mourner for Hire

TWENTY-THREE

DOMINIC

“I can’t believe I did that,” I tell Eli, pouring him a stout from the draft and sliding it across the bar.

He stares at me pointedly. “Yes, you can,” he argues.

I toss a towel over my shoulder and lean back on the shelves of liquor.

“You don’t hate her as much as you want to.”

“Actually, I—” But my argument is swallowed up by the tight coil in my gut, telling me I don’t hate her.

He rolls his eyes and pops a jalapeno popper into his mouth. “Exactly. Which is why she is still written on the wall behind you.”

I glance at the chalkboard menu behind me then back at Eli. “That’s not her.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“It’s a popular name.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Vada?”

“There’s also the Billie, the Carrie, and the Lucifer. Let’s be real, that’s probably the type of company she keeps on a regular basis.”

Eli doesn’t laugh. He just stares at me with utter annoyance, and I choose to ignore it .

“I don’t know why you don’t see this as some good omen,” he says.

I eye him while I polish a glass behind the bar. “Since when are omens good?”

“Dude, you fell hard for this girl in one night?—”

“That’s a stretch.”

“—it’s not. And now, your mother managed to get her back in your life from another realm.”

“So you agree?” I ask, feeling somewhat vindicated.

“Agree with what? That you’re in love with her, so you’re doing that weird denial thing?”

“No, that she’s a witch.”

“Oh, shut up. I think it’s hilarious. Your mom is playing tricks on you even from beyond the grave.”

I slouch against the back of the bar. “Mom wasn’t that funny.”

“Yes, she was. Remember that time in high school, she called you and said you needed to come home right away, and when you got there, she told you to hand her the remote that was on the dining room table and not the coffee table.” Eli’s laugh escalates into wheezing. “She was hilarious.”

“She had her own brand of humor. That’s for sure.”

“Or that one time you got in trouble for talking back to Mr. Henry junior year so she said, It’s okay, I never liked him anyway, but to make it look like I punished you, go mow the lawn .

But she had raised the blade level, and it wasn’t short enough, so she made you do it again.

Or when she picked you up on the last day of senior year dressed as a pinata with a megaphone and told everyone congratulations, don’t make your parents miserable this summer until the school cleared out. ”

I smile at the memories. None were very funny at the time, but now, as a twenty-nine-year-old, I know she was the best kind of embarrassment. She kept me on my toes and completely humble, which makes me wonder.

“So what, she’s humbling me from beyond? ”

Eli shrugs. “I don’t know. But your mom loved you, and she wouldn’t bring anybody around you who wasn’t worth your while. And deep down, you know that.”

Unfortunately, I do know that.

My phone buzzes on the bar top, distracting me from my anger, only to replace it with anxiety.

“What is it?” Eli asks.

“Hillsboro Medical Center,” I answer, swiping my phone open.

“I thought Match Day wasn’t until March,” Eli says, leaning forward.

My jaw ticks. “Sometimes, they do early matches, especially since it’s a smaller program.”

“Well, fucking open it.” His impatience presses on my nerves.

With a reluctant swipe, I open the email and start reading aloud…

“Dear Dominic Dunne… Thank you for your interest in Hillsboro Medical Center for the Family Medicine Residency Program. We appreciate the time and effort you invested in the application process and were impressed by your qualifications.” My jaw ticks. “However, after careful consideration…”

My voice trails, and I toss the phone on the bar top.

Eli draws his eyebrows together and grabs the phone, continuing to read the email.

“We regret to inform you that you have not been selected for the upcoming Match Cycle. We understand this decision may be disappointing, but due to the gap in your application…” he murmurs, then stops. “You know what? Fuck them. That wasn’t the right one for you anyway.”

“Do you know how much they have to want to reject you to do it this early?” I crack my neck.

“It’s probably just because it’s a smaller program, and they filled the slots. Relax. The right residency will come.”

His encouragement falls on deaf ears, and he must sense it because he doesn’t continue, letting me wallow and be angry in an empty bar I can’t keep afloat just two months after my mom died.

I stare out the windows overlooking the valley as the sun begins to crest into the ocean, sending streams of golden light into the building.

Life isn’t easy, I know this. There are no guarantees and no blueprint for how to live it.

But everything seems to be happening at the same time, leaving me frustrated and confused about where my life is actually headed.

I sigh. “I just want good news. For once.”