Stuck

Stuck

“Are you stuck?” Viv’s dark eyes glitter up at Ty from her cross-legged position on the imitation Kashan rug.

“No, I’m not stuck. Just let me…” Bracing himself on the round, knee-high table, he eases down onto a large sequined sitting pillow on the floor. “Whose idea was this anyway – Moroccan food, no chairs, no shoes…” Tucking a well-stuffed velvet cushion under his bent knee, he motions toward Viv’s crossed legs. “And there is no way I can sit like that.” He pulls his shin in close to his body with both hands and there’s a sharp crack.

“You okay? Maybe it’d be better if we sat in the main dining room?” Viv points to the other side of the curtained arched doorway where white tableclothed tables are lined up in neat rows on a thin, dark carpet and neutral woven wool tapestries hang on a wheat-colored wall.

Ty and Viv had walked through that dining room when they first came in. Followed a glossy hostess through the bland but spacious seating area to an arched opening in the back of the hall and took three small stairs that ended on a landing in front of a wall of thick, intricately patterned curtains trimmed with silk cords capped with fat tassels. Ty and Viv had watched as the hostess opened the heavy fabric panels and this room was revealed. Another world, rich with color, suffused with music and scented with cinnabar along with something else Ty couldn’t identify. Excitement maybe? Power. Pleasure. Promise.

Plump throw pillows lean against vividly painted walls and rest in sleepy piles like chubby puppies around a low wooden table set for two. In the center of the table is a small ceramic dish glazed in the same deep blues, ambers, and olive greens that fill the room, their undertones enlivened by the warm light thrown from surrounding wall sconces.

“I love all this,” Viv gestures around them, “but it’s totally fine with me if we move.”

“Are you kidding? There is no way I’m leaving. The hostess won’t know where to bring our drinks, and besides, I’m not sure I can get up.”

“Really?”

“Jesus, Viv. No, not really. I might be a little stiff, but I can still get off the floor.” 

She grins. “Well then this is way better than the main dining room.”

“That’s what I’m saying. And Viv?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry for being so slow on the uptake… ” He pauses. “I'm really glad you could come out tonight. Our first date after working together for what, three years?"

"Yeah, about that."

"And you like Moroccan food, right?”

“I do.”

“Good. I thought so.” He smiles. “I guess we’ll have to see if this place can match the hospital cafeteria’s high culinary standards.” 

Viv nods solemnly. “That is a very high bar.”

“Don’t I know it. Friday flounder. Red jello cubes. Not every kitchen can turn out those dishes with such alacrity.”

The hostess reappears and efficiently sets two drinks on the table – Viv’s Hendricks and club with a twist, Ty’s Belvedere martini, straight up and dirty with olives. Once she leaves, Ty lifts his glass. “To dinner together, at some place other than the hospital cafeteria.”

“Agreed,” Viv adds. “To something new.” Their glasses clink.

Ty unfolds his napkin. “I hear the lentil salad appetizer with parsley and cilantro is worth trying.”

 Viv opens her menu. “And the shredded carrots with oranges and walnuts sound pretty good too.”

“Let’s get both.” He waits for Viv to look up. “And what do you think about the tangerine chicken for a main course?”

“You mean the chicken tagine?”

“That’s what I said.” 

She laughs. “I am definitely up for tangerine chicken.”

“Okay… And maybe one more… How about a lamb dish?”

“Not for me, but order that if you want, really.”

He puts down his menu. “I forgot, you don’t eat lamb, do you?” Viv shakes her head. “Remind me again, why?”

“It’s really not a big deal… “ She continues after a brief pause. “Okay fine, here it is… when I was a kid, my parents and I drove passed a veal farm. Rows of little doghouses in a field, which I thought was pretty neat at the time- you know, every dog had its own little house.” Ty nods. “So, I pointed them out to my parents and they looked at each other without saying anything which I knew even then was not a good sign, and then my mother explained that the dogs weren’t dogs, they were baby cows kept on short chains so they’d rest and their meat would stay tender. It took me a while to figure out that when she said their meat she meant them, and that they weren’t resting, they were restrained. It was very upsetting.” Viv takes a long sip of her drink. “She was so matter of fact about it. Keeping baby cows from moving and eating them was totally acceptable to her. Which was unbelievable to me at the time. How could she not see how wrong that was? I stopped eating veal, and lamb too because I knew they were baby sheep. Which is kind of stupid, I realize. It’s not like the adult cows and sheep have it any better, but...”

“But what? That ‘s where you drew your line. As a kid, you didn’t want to eat other babies. It makes complete sense to me.”

“I guess so. When you put it that way.”

“And for the record, I’ve always respected how and where you draw your lines.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. Though, I’m not sure my physiology professor would agree.”

“In med school? What does that have to do with … ? Wait…” His face twists. “Did your physiology professor hit on you?”

“It wasn’t about sex. That would’ve been easier.” Her eyes darken. “It was, I refused to do some labs and things got a little dicey.”

“Yeah?” He extends the word to three syllables.

She shrugs, collecting her thoughts. “There were these labs at the end of second year before clinical rotations started that involved ‘operating’ on dogs, although the word ‘operate’ is a euphemism to say the least. The specific instructions, and I still remember them, were to ‘open the dogs up’ and ‘play around to get a feel for things’. At the end of the lab, the animals would be ‘destroyed.’ I was horrified. I just couldn’t.”

“And I’m trying to figure out exactly how dissecting live dogs would help prepare a second year med student. Their biggest job is to get test results. Give reports. Get drilled. They certainly don’t do any cutting. And of course they’ve already done anatomy lab with humans so dog anatomy and physiology is irrelevant anyway.”

“I know. That’s exactly what I thought. But it was some pilot curriculum this guy was spearheading, and he was getting a lot of attention for it, so he was really pissed off when I questioned it. He told me there was a long tradition of using animals to further science, that doctors have to be able to inflict pain in order to help others, and that if I couldn’t accept those things, I’d never make it. And, he claimed that since I ate lettuce, I couldn’t decline the labs without being a hypocrite.”

“Oh, because eating lettuce and cutting up dogs are exactly the same thing. What an asshole.”

“The thing is, to this day, I’m amazed at how hard it was for me to hold my ground. It shouldn’t have been so hard. It shouldn’t have mattered to me what he said or thought.”

Ty pulls a martini-soaked olive off its toothpick and offers the plump green orb to Viv. She pops it in her mouth as he slides another one off for himself. “How could it not? He had all the authority. He was the professor. You were young. You needed to pass his course, and graduate, obviously. Avoid being blacklisted if possible.”

“I suppose.”

“But also Viv.” She glances at Ty’s face and he continues. “You’re an exceptional doctor. And not because you’re willing to inflict pain, no matter what that jerk said.” She looks at him almost shyly and he goes on. “There are lots of reasons why, but I think one of the biggest ones is because you’re really good at seeing other people’s points of view.” Ty finishes his martini with a gulp. “Like you do with me... you manage to get what I’m trying to say even when you don’t agree with it or it doesn't make sense to you. A lot of people would close right up, but you don't.”

She meets his eyes, smiles. “Well, I must really be something then, if I can understand what you’re thinking.” 

Ty smiles back. “Exactly. One in a million.”

The appetizers come, then the entrees. Dinner flies by. 

“Everything’s delicious.” Viv takes a last bite of her yogurt-dressed eggplant.

“So good.” Ty plucks a piece of chicken off the serving platter.

“You know, you really didn’t have to divide all the dishes in half.”

“No, I did, to make sure you get your fair share.”

She chuckles. “Remember, I grew up with four brothers. Getting my fair share isn’t a problem.”

“No, of course not… I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me. Drawing a line down the middle is the best way for me to make clear to myself what’s your half and what’s mine. Then I can do whatever I want with the food on my side and your food is safe. I can eat as fast as I want while you take your time, or I can pick out the fattest cashews or get rid of all the red onions, that sort of thing. The other side, your side, is all for you, to do with whatever you want. And when I finish my half, I will leave yours be, because it’s yours. Your side, not mine.”

“So you’re saying, you worry that if you don’t literally split our food in half, you’ll either ruin the dish or not leave me any.”

“Kind of. I eat pretty fast.”

“You’re too funny. But, I don’t think that would happen. Even if you did finish a dish when I wasn’t done? Worst case scenario? We could order more, couldn’t we?”

Ty blinks. All the tension drains away. “Yeah, I guess we could.” It’s a revolutionary idea, that there could be enough for everybody. And it seems so simple suddenly. He laughs. “Did you leave any room for dessert?”

“I did.” she smiles.

Ty signals to the waiter and orders two coffees and two sweet briwatts along with a fig and cheese platter. Seconds later, a busboy appears to clear their plates and wipe the crumbs from the table, neatening things up before the next course. Ty and Viv lean into their cushiony pillows in replete silence. Unlike most people Ty’s met, Viv’s good at quiet. And there’s no need for anything else now – no stories, witty jokes or astute observations. No pressure to fill in the wordless spaces with unnecessary chatter. Viv’s hand is warm when he takes it and she curls her fingers around his. They sit together without speaking until dessert comes.

Ty heaps an assortment of cheeses onto his plate. Sniffs a marbled piece of cheese and puts it down. “Viv, this has been really great. Are you free tomorrow?” He adds after a pause, “or Sunday?”

“Actually, I’ve been wanting to ask you, a bunch of blues guys are coming to Infinity Hall – Robert Cray, I think Robben Ford, Joe someone – You interested?”

“I’d love to see Robben Ford. Be glad to hear Robert Cray." He smiles. "Joe Someone too.”

She smiles back. “Great. What do you think about going with people from the Emergency Department? We could meet some people at the Bistro for dinner before the show.”

Why?

“I know Jack’s interested. He’s the one who mentioned it to me.” Ty’s face freezes. “You know Jack, the nurse?”

“Yeah, I know who he is.”

“And I’m sure Sarah wants to come.”

“Sarah, the psych tech?”

“You get along with her, don’t you?”

“We get along great.” What’s going on? Viv’s interested in Jack and she’s foisting me off on Sarah? Maybe I missed my chance, waited too long. Could this be.. is this a pity date? Ty’s stomach drops and his expression goes blank. “Sure, I’ll think about it. Let me see if I’m free.” 

Viv’s face falls. 

She’s disappointed? What did she expect me to say? Catching the waiter’s eye, Ty motions for the check. I knew this wasn’t a good idea. “So I’ll pay and we can get going. Let's do this again some time.”