Megan closed the textbook and gently rubbed her eyes, triggering a huge yawn. It was nine o’clock and time for bed, but she didn’t feel like it. She had been doing the work-college routine for more than four years. She sighed then shook it off to sport a smile.
There was an exam on Monday; she would be ready, and she would ace it. Finals were looming but she was not concerned. Her grade point average was 4.0 and she loved her work. She was moving slowly but steadily through college and with her GPA and work history she was already lining up scholarships for medical school. She had always wanted to be a pediatrician and the desire had become stronger after her son died.
A flash of hatred rose. She was glad the murderer was in prison.
Shaking her head, Megan drew a deep breath and blew it out. Recalling from memory the faces of several of the kids recently released from the hospital helped bring back her smile.
In another few weeks this semester would be over. After her final undergrad semester in the spring, she would move to Seattle, get another hospital job, and start medical school at the University of Washington immediately.
I will not mis this apartment.
The basement studio, close to campus and the hospital, had saved her thousands of dollars in expenses, but the tradeoff was an old smelly rental. Her parents, while not rich, had paid the rent. She did not own a car and using a bicycle and buses to get around had saved thousands more. She ate frugally, had not felt like having a social life and did not spend money on new clothes. When not taking classes, she had accepted every extra shift offered and put away every penny she could save.
Yawning again Megan rose and entered the tiny bathroom. It was cramped, with a small sink and the toilet was within inches. It was a good thing she was small because a larger person would have trouble using the stupid corner shower. After a quick face wash, a two-minute shower and brushing her teeth she finished her nighttime ritual. It helped that she kept her hair cut short.
The kitchen was small, old, and the caulking was mottled black and dingy white. After starting a small pot of water for tea she made tomorrow’s lunch and set out the cereal box and the protein powder she would need for morning. Selecting a Sleepy Time tea bag, she dropped it in a cup, poured water over it and turned out the kitchen light.
Looking at the bed made her happy. She had splurged on an upper end, full size mattress set, knowing she needed good sleep. Stripping down to a t-shirt and panties Megan pulled back the covers, sat down and made sure the alarm clock was set. After trying her tea, which was still a little hot, she selected another textbook from the stack by the bed and settled in, propped up with pillows.
Within minutes her eyes were drooping.
She smiled, recalling the time spent with Bill over coffee and looked forward to going out for dinner. He was headed to McCall tomorrow with his daughter and his friend Jake. Bill had been great with Eric, and his kindness and that of the other ballplayers had touched her. Then Eric was in remission, the turnaround so sudden and dramatic that she did not know what to attribute it to.
“A child saved is a child saved,” she murmured.
Good night, Thomas.
Megan drifted off to sleep with the image of her son Thomas smiling back at her, sitting on their hillside, surrounded by small yellow flowers.