Victoria’s Diary
August 28, 2017
When I got home from work today, I felt like I could barely stand up. It was an exhausting shift in the ER. The last patient I saw was a man whose family brought him in with concern for a stroke, but he kept insisting he didn’t have slurred speech. “I’m just from the south—that’s how we talk,” he kept saying. (It turned out to be a stroke.)
My head was pounding when I finally stumbled into our apartment. Adam was watching television on the couch, and when he saw me come in, he patted the seat next to him. That’s the best thing about being married— when you get home from a long shift, you have somebody to cuddle next to on the couch and watch television.
But before I joined him, I changed out of my scrubs. I used to always spend the rest of the evening in my scrubs after a shift, but Adam can’t stand it when I wear scrubs in the house, even fresh ones. His logic is the scrubs are covered in whatever germs or bodily fluids I was exposed to during my time in the hospital—which is a fair assessment. So I took a minute to sift through my drawers, trying to find something that struck that perfect balance between comfortable and something he would approve of. Because I was not changing again.
I finally selected a stringy tank top with a pair of sheer sweatpants. As a rule, Adam doesn’t like me in sweatpants, but he makes an exception if they’re “sexy” sweatpants.
When I got back into the living room, I immediately saw the approval on Adam’s face and breathed a sigh of relief.
I had expected to plop down next to Adam on the couch to watch This Is Us, but instead, he reached for the remote and shut off the television. I immediately got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I must have done something wrong.
I wracked my tired brain, trying to figure out what I did to upset him. Was I later than usual from work? Did he catch me flirting with another guy? I’m not sure if I’ll ever figure it out without him telling me. Last week we fought for two hours because I borrowed some of the milk from his shelf in the fridge. I don’t know how he figured it out. I wouldn’t have ordinarily, but I was dying for some corn flakes and I was all out of milk. I was so careful—I put it back in exactly the same place he had it, even turned at the same angle.
But I hadn’t done that again. I was sure of it. I only borrow his stuff if I’m desperate.
“So I’ve got some exciting news,” he said.
He was smiling. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I allowed my shoulders to relax. “Oh…?”
I assumed he was going to tell me something about his book, so I was surprised when he said, “I bought us a house.”
What?
That was the last thing I expected him to say. He’d been complaining recently about the construction work outside and how it made it hard to focus on the revisions he was doing on his novel. But I had expected him to say he wanted to start looking at houses maybe. Not that he’d already bought one. I mean… what the heck?
“You bought a house?” I managed.
He nodded. “And I sold this apartment.”
What?
I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. The apartment I was living in now belonged to another person? How was this possible? I looked around the room, a sense of growing panic squeezing my chest. How could he do this without telling me?
“Adam,” I said as calmly as I could. “Why didn’t you tell me you were selling the apartment?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” His voice was a deadpan, as if selling your apartment right out from under your wife was a totally normal thing to do. “I thought you’d be pleased. Now we have a house and you didn’t have to deal with the hassle of selling the old place and buying a new place. It was quite stressful.”
“But don’t I get a say in where we’re going to live?”
He shrugged. “I bought it with my money. And I own this apartment.
So really, it’s my decision, isn’t it?”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, but my head was buzzing. All I could think was that if he respected me at all, he would never have done something like this.
Then again, I could yell and scream all I wanted, but it wouldn’t change anything. He’s sold our home. He’s bought a new one. What could I do at this point aside from starting a horrible fight?
“Where’s the new house?” I finally asked. “Montauk. In Long Island.”
At the moment he told me, I didn’t have a sense of where Montauk is. If I did, I would have been far more upset than I was. The second I looked it up on a map later, I almost fainted. Do you know where Montauk is? It’s practically in the Atlantic Ocean. As far as I’m concerned, we may as well go live in Siberia.
“You’ll love it, Vicky.” Adam’s voice softened and he put a hand on my knee. “It’s a huge house with lots of bedrooms, a finished attic for me to work in, a giant garden… and a backyard where… you know, the children can play.”
He knows my buttons—I have to give him that. He knows how excited I’ve been about the prospect of trying for a baby. And we have agreed that we don’t want to raise a bunch of kids in a tiny Manhattan apartment. If we want to have three or maybe even four kids, it would cost a fortune to live in a place where we wouldn’t all be living in bunk beds.
A yard. A garden. Lots of bedrooms.
When he put it that way, it didn’t sound so bad.
Adam could tell he was swaying me. “Come see it with me,” he said. “If you hate it, then… I’ll back out of the sale. But please just look at the house.”
So tomorrow we’re driving out to see the new house. He has absolutely sworn that if I hate it, we don’t have to live there. Of course, we can’t stay put because he already sold our apartment.
I still can’t believe he did that. But that’s just the sort of man Adam is. He makes a decision and then… he just does it. I wish he didn’t do that, but maybe after he gets used to being married, he’ll get more used to consulting me on things.
In the meantime, I’m actually pretty excited about seeing the new house. I haven’t lived in a house since I was a child. Adam keeps talking about how great it is and how I’m going to fall in love with it for sure. I can’t wait!
September 2, 2017
It occurred to me today that I haven’t made many huge decisions in my life. Most things were obvious. Go to school. My nursing degree was a no- brainer because I’ve wanted to be a nurse ever since my mother’s battle with cancer—she had the most fantastic nurse on the inpatient unit and I was inspired to be that kind of great nurse. Then when a friend suggested nurse practitioner school, I somehow just knew it was the right decision—I didn’t even have to think about it. I had always wanted to live in Manhattan, so when I got the job in the ER, it wasn’t a hard decision whether to take it.
And even though I had a few moments of doubt before getting married, that decision too seemed obvious in the end.
And once again, it seems like another big decision is being made for
me.
Adam rented a car and drove us out to the house in Montauk today.
Did I mention how far away Montauk is from Manhattan? Like I said, Siberia. As we were making the drive, it occurred to me what this meant. If we decided to take this house, I couldn’t continue working in the ER. The commute would be ridiculous. I’d have to look for another job closer to the house—and who knew what was available around there.
I pointed that out to Adam during the drive and he nodded. “Would that be the end of the world?”
He had a point. I took the job only a year out of NP school, and I never believed it would be my job for the rest of my life. But now that I’ve been there for over three years, I wouldn’t mind if it were my job for the rest of my life. I like that ER. I like the patient population. I like the people I work with. I don’t want to leave.
Then again, working at new places exposes you to new experiences.
That’s what people say anyway. Adam did, at least.
said.
“I’d have to look and see what jobs are available around Montauk,” I
“Or,” he said, “you could just… stay home.” I sucked in a breath. “What?”
“Is that a bad thing?” He took his eyes off the road to glance at me.
“The house is huge and just taking care of it will be a full-time job. And soon we’re going to have a houseful of kids to take care of, right?”
Oh right, that’s another thing—I’ve quit my birth control pills. My period came back right away. I have a clockwork twenty-five-day cycle, and we made love a lot this month. As crazy as it sounds, I could be pregnant right now. Every time I think about it, I get this excited feeling in my stomach. Deciding to get pregnant is yet another no brainer.
As much as I love my career, I always dreamed of staying at home with my children. Considering I lost my mother so young, I don’t want to miss even a nanosecond of my children’s lives, because really, you don’t know how long you’re going to have.
“I want to support you,” he said. “I make more than enough money to support our family. Please… let me do this.”
“I’ll think about it,” I promised.
After about a hundred hours of driving, we finally got to the house. I gasped when I saw that there was a gate surrounding the place—I’ve never lived in a gated home before. I never thought of myself as the sort of person who would live in a gated estate. The garden was enormous, although terribly overgrown, and there was a small shed at the edge of the property. (Could that become my she-shed? I’ve heard she-sheds are the new thing!)
We were definitely in the middle of nowhere. I’ve never lived in a place so far away from… well, everything. Our nearest neighbor had to be a mile away. When I took my phone out of my pocket, the screen announced that I had no service.
As I walked into the foyer of our new potential home, the first thought I had was that if I screamed, nobody would be able to hear me.
“What do you think?” Adam asked.
“It’s…” I hesitated, looking around for the first time. “It’s beautiful.”
I meant it. The house was beautiful—and huge! The living area was bright and airy, and there was a white staircase spiraling up to the next level. When I looked up, I saw a chandelier dangling over my head—an
actual chandelier! I had never imagined living in a place that had a chandelier. After years of tiny Manhattan apartments, I wanted to throw my arms out and spin around, reveling in the fact that I wouldn’t knock into something. And then, before I could stop myself, I was doing it. I was spinning. Spinning!
I didn’t want to love it as much as I did.
Adam grinned at me as I finally stopped spinning because it was making me ill. “You love it,” he said.
“I do, but…” I wrung my hands together. “My job…”
His eyes darkened. “It’s just a job, Victoria. Can’t you find a new one?”
“But…”
“Or is there some other reason you want to stay that you’re not telling me?” He raised an eyebrow. “Mack, for instance?”
Oh no. Adam has this irrational jealousy of Mack, which he manages to bring up at every opportunity. Well, I suppose it isn’t entirely irrational since Mack was in love with me. But ever since I got back from Vegas, Mack and I have been pretending that conversation never happened. It’s a bit awkward though—another point in favor of leaving.
“Is that it?” he asked. “You don’t want to be away from your
boyfriend?”
I could hear the bitter edge creeping into his voice, and I knew we were on the brink of a really big fight. I also realized Adam absolutely would storm off and leave me in this house. In the middle of nowhere with no phone service.
“It has nothing to do with Mack,” I said quickly. “I just… I need to think about it. Can’t I have a chance to think about it?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “What’s there to think about?” And that was that.
So it looks like we’re moving. I’m giving up my life in Manhattan for something entirely new and different out in Long Island. I’d like to say it’s temporary, but once we pop out a few kids, there’s no way we’ll ever move back.
This will be forever.
September 10, 2017
Today was my last shift in the ER.
We’re moving tomorrow. Adam hired another moving company, and they’re coming tomorrow morning to haul all our stuff out to Montauk. We’ll dart ahead in the new BMW Adam bought last week. It’s the X35i, which supposedly handles very well in snow—we’ll need it when the winter hits and we’re trapped under two feet of white powder. It’s still only early September so it feels like the winter is very far away, but I know it’s right around the corner.
I’m trying not to feel sad about the fact that I’m leaving forever and it’s unlikely I’ll take the time to drive three hours back to the city very often. Carol threw me a mini-party at the nurse’s station, which we managed to enjoy for about five minutes before the ER started getting backed up again.
Today I’m savoring every single patient interaction. Even the ones with the drug-seeking patients who claim they dropped their Dilaudid in the toilet and why can’t I give them a few pills to tide them over? (Why do people only seem to drop narcotics in the toilet? How come blood pressure pills never end up in there?) My last patient of the evening was a little old lady who tripped on an acorn and might have broken her wrist. It took all my self-restraint not to hug her.
“And as I was lying on the ground,” the old woman said to me, “the squirrel ran by my head, and I swear to you, Miss Victoria, he was laughing at me!”
It turned out to be a distal radius fracture and I turned her over to orthopedic surgery, then got to work on the last of my charting. I took my time, interrupted every few minutes by someone who wanted to give me one last hug or tell me how much they enjoyed working with me. It’s funny
—you don’t realize how much people like you until you’re leaving.
Mack wasn’t working today. I checked right when I came in to see if anyone knew if he was on duty and they said no. So I figured that was that
—I would never see Mack again. And that was for the best. I was married after all, and he’d made it pretty clear how he felt about me. It was easier not to have some awkward goodbye.
“I’m going to come to visit you,” Carol promised me when she hugged me one last time. We were both getting teary-eyed—I’m going to miss her so much! “And you’re going to come out here with the baby, right?”
I laughed. “I’m not pregnant yet.”
“Not this month. But I bet Adam will knock you up before winter.”
I finally pulled my hoodie sweatshirt on over my scrub top and headed out of the ER for the very last time. I felt a jab of sadness when I passed the hot dog cart where I got food poisoning twice. (Shame on me—I thought the first time was a fluke.) It was the end of an era. The end of my life as a single girl in the city, and the start of my life as a suburban housewife. Well, for now, at least. I’m still planning to check out the job market out there.
“Vicky! Hey, Vicky, wait!”
I froze, a bubble of happiness in my chest. I turned around, but I already knew who was calling me. “Mack!”
He was jogging down the block, his black hair even more disheveled than usual. He was smiling, but there was something sad in his smile. The way his face looked was a reflection of the way I was feeling right now. Smiling, but about to burst into tears any second.
“I’m so glad I caught you.” He took a second to catch his breath. “Carol only texted me an hour ago that it was your last shift and you’re moving tomorrow.”
“Yeah…”
We just stared at each other. It had been a little awkward between us since Mack admitted his feelings for me right before the wedding, but all that awkwardness suddenly melted away. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m really going to miss you, Vicky.”
“Me too,” I said, and I meant it with every fiber of my being.
He looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead, he leaned forward and hugged me. It was a Mack Bear Hug—I’d had them before, but this was the best one I’d ever had, and probably also the last. He was so big and warm and he smelled like Dial soap and fresh air. I realized I was clinging to him and we just stayed in that hug for… well, a while.
There’s nothing wrong with that. I mean, Carol and I hugged a lot too today.
When we finally separated, Mack’s eyes were a little moist. “If you need anything out there, just call me. Okay?”
“Um, you know it’s three hours away, right? And you don’t even have a car.”
“I don’t care.”
And I stared up into his brown eyes, I got this sick feeling in my chest.
Like I’d made a terrible mistake.
That night in the bar, when Mack told me how he felt? I should have ended it with Adam. I should never have married him. I should be with Mack. I made the wrong decision.
But the feeling passed. Yes, I chose Adam over Mack. There’s nothing I can do to change that now. I mean, I’m not going to leave my husband.
So I said goodbye to Mack, and that was that.
