Kevin May

Joel sat in the car, watching his wife disappear through the airport doors. He exhaled and reached into his front pocket to retrieve the paper they had gotten from the doctor earlier. Just as his fingers touched the glossy surface-

Knock-knock

A gloved hand tapped Joel’s window, snapping him out of the moment.

“If you’re not picking up or dropping—“

“Yeah yeah,” Joel mouthed, holding up his hand, followed by a thumbs-up. He put the car in drive and started maneuvering through the congested drop-off area. His wife would be gone for three or four days, across the country at a distant relatives wedding. Joel wasn’t invited.

As he pulled onto the highway, scenes of the doctor’s visit earlier that day started replaying in his mind.

“Just wait right here, the doctor will be in shortly.” the nurse said after they had seen the look on her face. A once-chatty woman- she had instantly gone silent as she finished the pre-exam checkup.

Joel’s heart sank, and the heat built in his body, causing his brow to perspire despite the cold temperature doctor offices are known for. Silence stretched out forever inside the finite space that contained them.

Joel remained motionless- only his heart moved, pounding relentlessly inside his chest. He had been thinking about this for over a year. It’s all he had been thinking about.

“This was just a check-up,” he told himself, pressing his face into his hands.

Joel flicked on his blinker and took the off-ramp, navigating the side roads and traffic lights as he made his way to their apartment. A large art piece representing musical instruments and notes stood out front of the complex—he and his wife moved here a few years ago to pursue music and art.

Last year, after much discussion, Joel had taken a step back from his dream-hobby to focus on the uncertain future.

He pulled into his usual parking spot and remained for a few moments. He was about to walk into an empty apartment and spend the next few days alone.

“These things happen. I’ll be back in a few days. We’re fine.”

The last words his wife had said to him in the car before leaving to catch her plane. Joel opened the door and crossed the parking lot towards the stairs. As he entered their apartment, their dog, as always, was ecstatic to see him. The sixty-pound canine pushed against his legs and positioned itself in the way, forcing Joel to brace against the doorframe as he patted the excited animal.

Joel shut the door behind him and looked around the room. It was early evening, the sun sinking behind the trees, casting a dull glow through the sliding glass doors. He didn’t turn on the lights, instead choosing the gray palette everything had embodied.

As he walked to the kitchenette, dog at his heels, he retrieved a short glass from the cabinet and the celebratory bottle of liquor he had purchased earlier that week.

“I’ve told people,” he thought. “I was so excited that I told people.”

Turning, he opened the top of the refrigerator and added some cubes of ice to the glass, then set it on the counter next to the bottle. Reaching into his front pocket, he retrieved the folded piece of paper and unfolded it.

For the third time that day, Joel became entranced, the rest of the world fading away.

Whining.

Joel snapped out of the gaze and looked down at the dog, sitting patiently as it looked up at Joel. He picked up the ice-filled glass, completely forgetting the bottle. Walking to the couch, eyes fixed on the paper, he sat down, accompanied by the dog, resting its head in his lap and sniffing the empty glass in his hand.

The sun finished setting and what little light it contributed to the room faded, casting shadows across the silent still room.

Joel sat on the couch, holding an empty glass and an empty ultrasound.