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“That one’s Hercules.”
In the corner of his peripherals, Robby could spot Whitaker flinching when his voice broke the silence. He could imagine those eyes widening in the way they do, that deer-in-the-headlights look that used to be so familiar when he had been a student. Whitaker scooted forward now that he was caught and joined Robby behind the railing.
Odd, being on this side of the barrier.
“Do you often come to the roof to stargaze?” asked Whitaker.
“Too many city lights and pollution. I’m sure you see many more in the farm.” Robby shook his head. “I’ll join you soon enough—in a few hours it’ll just be me and the constellations.”
Moments passed. Then, there it was; the shift in atmosphere, the scent of a brewing storm at sea.
“You’re really… leaving.”
“For three months,” came out of his mouth automatically. He felt no connection to those words or to the parameter of time. It was a distant concept, a variable he promised hollowly and equally prayed to under his breath.
“Dana says she gives you one month before you come back,” said Whitaker. He cracked a smile, nervous eyes flitting to see Robby’s reaction. Robby caught a glimpse of the gap in Whitaker’s two front teeth and looked away.
“She doesn’t pull punches anymore. It’s hard to stay away.”
“Is that why you came in today?”
Robby scratched his head. “You memorize my schedule, kid?”
“Uh,” he stammered. “No, I mean, it was just…”
“Just messing with you,” he laughed as he watched Whitaker’s face burst into pink. “Yeah. And I regretted it about two minutes in.”
“I’m glad you were here today.” He sounded exhausted. “I don’t think we would’ve gotten through today without you.”
Whitaker said this completely serious. Robby stared at him, a little bit stupidly, arms crossed over his scrubs.
Finally, he smiled. One last one. “You would’ve managed.” You will manage.
Whitaker shook his head but said nothing else. Robby dug in his pocket. It felt as if his stomach had boarded a bullet train, speeding far past ahead of him, his extremities the least numb they had been all day. His keys stared up from his palm. When he handed it to Whitaker, catching the doctor by surprise, it fit better than it did in his own grip.
“I—”
“No need for those headlights,” said Robby. “I don’t expect you to go. I just want to give you the option.”
Whitaker took that in, gnawing at the inside of his cheeks.
“You trying to explode my keys with your mind?”
“Wha—no, I just—Dr. Robby, this is too much.”
Robby wanted to laugh. Of course it was; he knew it was. That was what he did, he pushed and pushed every limit, every boundary, until the other person had endured enough, gathered enough reason to leave him. But Whitaker wasn’t the one leaving, not this time.
“Then you can throw that in a drawer for three months.” Robby rubbed his beard. He wouldn’t budge on this.
A few minutes drifted by before Whitaker finally pocketed the keys.
“I’ll text you the address.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.”
Whitaker sighed. “For some reason, I keep getting this feeling that you won’t be coming back. That's weird, right?”
Chills ran up Robby’s spine, the July sweat cooling beneath his long sleeve. He said nothing.
For the first time, Whitaker turned to him. Away from the constellations and the sprawling concrete lanes. Away from the view that Robby, on multiple occasions, came to conclude should be his last.
He had deep blue eyes. Robby didn’t observe them often; eyes made him wary, they made him combative. When he stared at someone, he stared down. He was often trying to win. Win what, he never knew. There were no weapons with him now. Nothing to wield against Whitaker that he hadn’t already.
“I’ll take care of your place while you’re gone,” said Whitaker in that violently earnest way of his. Whitaker bled honesty and genuinity. Even though Robby was taller, he was made out of nothing in that moment, small and stripped in comparison to this man’s vast empathy. “But you have to take care of something of mine, and return it to me.”
Whitaker reached and dropped it in Robby’s hand.
“This is…”
“I know it’s really rude to return a gift, but it’s only temporary,” Whitaker interrupted, crossing his arms. His thumb flexed nervously. “And I’m grateful that you gave it to me, I swear, it’s been really helpful. But I’d like… I’d like if you could take it with you on your trip.”
Robby stared down at the ticking watch covering up the lines of his palm. He had offered it to Whitaker at his graduation, to which the man had first politely refused, before eventually conceding to Robby’s stare. It was well-maintained. The leather was spotless, though lined from natural age. It had once been Robby’s watch. His Bubbe had purchased it for him when he began his residency. Whitaker has clearly been taking good care of it.
“I can’t,” whispered Robby.
“You don’t—” Whitaker rolled his eyes at Hercules. “I’m sorry, Dr. Robby, but I’m not giving you a choice.”
Going with the memory of his Bubbe wasn’t unappealing, per se, but he could imagine how she’d react. She’d slap him up the head and ask, “Misha, where on this earth have you left behind your mind?”
Balancing on a tightrope. Washing the blood out from his cuticles. Turning forty-four and breaking up with Janey. In an ambulance bay with Heather, a secret that killed a dream and any potential for their old relationship. Adamson. Leah.
“It’s a wonder you had any sanity at all,” the imaginary Bubbe said. “What a mess!”
“She would have loved you.”
Whitaker startled. “What?”
Robby shook his head and pocketed the watch he’d gifted Whitaker months ago. “Nothing, I…”
The door slammed open. They jumped apart. Somehow they’d drifted much closer during the conversation.
Princess beamed when she spotted them. “Well, look who it is. You guys are early!”
“Early?” asked Whitaker.
Perlah appeared behind Princess, carrying a box over to the rickety table someone had once dragged up to the roof. The both of them wore cone shaped hats of colorful confetti.
“Dr Robby, I thought you’d left already,” Perlah said. “It’s so nice of you to stay for Javadi’s birthday party.”
Oh no.
“I was just leaving actually—”
“I said,” she repeated, “it’s so nice of you to stay for Javadi’s birthday party. Because everyone will be so happy to see you.”
In the distance, a firework burst in the sky and fell in scattered pieces, camouflaging into the stars.
Robby sighed and hung his head. “Happy birthday, Victoria Javadi.”
Whitaker was not so subtly staring at him and smiling. “I think I just realized what Santos ran out to buy.”
Curious, he tilted his head. “What’s that?”
“Alcohol. Lots and lots of it.”