L O G A N

Dr. Logan Hodge, MD
Doctor of Family & Emergent Medicine

I slide my fingers over the embroidered black letters of my white coat. It's brand new, still crisp to the touch and smelling of the plastic packaging I pulled it from.  The only time I've worn it was our graduation ceremony yesterday.  Now my mother is insisting I wear it to the party she's throwing in my "honor".

The party is complete bullshit.

My mother is using this party to show off to her friends, but everyone knows that me becoming a doctor of family medicine is a dishonor in this family.  I'm sure there aren't many doctors who can say that their family was disappointed in their career choice, making mine extra special.

Seven years of school and today my parents would pretend that they were 'proud' of me for my accomplishment.  Who am I kidding?  My father won't pretend, he just won't show.  Unless I walked into this house and told him I was joining the Army, Navy or Marines - there would be no other acceptable reason to speak to the man.  I could 'be a doctor' if I planned to use the skill-set while serving my country.  I would much rather heal people right here in Minnesota.  For that, I am considered a traitor to the Hodge name.

I can already hear the party starting below my feet and I have no desire to join it. The sound of cheesy elevator music is carrying up the stairs. 

I have no desire to do much of anything. The entire week has been exhausting and I'd much rather be spending my last month of freedom before beginning my job on my couch, vegging out and ignoring my life's failures from the comfort of my own home.

"Paging Doctor Hodge," a small knock occurs at the door. "You hiding in here?"

The corners of my lips curl upwards at the sound of my sister's voice. "If I was hiding I wouldn't respond. I'm blatantly ignoring the party."

The old bedroom door creaks open, exposing a tall girl with long black hair pulled back into a tight top knot. Of course, Tammy is wearing her marine uniform, a black jacket that displays her medals with white pants and black shoes.

"I knew you'd be here," she sits beside me and puts her head on my shoulder. "Triplet intuition."

I chuckle and kiss the top of her head. "Oh? Then how come I didn't know you were coming up here to find me?"

"You're obviously too busy channeling Nate. Where do you think he is?"

We both fall quiet and listen, hearing small children screaming at each other and our brother Nate's booming voice scolding them. Tammy and I begin to laugh, knowing he is down at the party chasing his three kids around, per the usual.

She places a firm pat on my knee and stands from the edge of the bed.  "Mom is looking for you.  Time to show off her doctor."

I give Tammy a half-hearted smile with a nod.  I knew it was only a matter of time before she sent one of my siblings after me.  I'm surprised she didn't start with Nate, him and I are much closer than Tammy and me.  She was always the odd one out because she was a girl.  Not in a sexist way, she just preferred playing with makeup and dolls where Nate and I wanted to rough-house like John Cena all over our bedroom.  Nate and I aren't just siblings, but he's one of my best friends.  Tammy was right though, we do share a special bond because we are triplets.  We've always been very protective over each other.  We also had that triplet relationship where we finish each other's sentences without realizing it and had a secret language as toddlers.  We aren't identical, thank goodness.   Tammy and I may look similar, with black hair and a tall build, but Nate was about four inches shorter than me standing at five-foot-ten and he had brown hair like our mother's.  Nate and Tammy both shared brown eyes, where mine were blue.  He also kept his hair very short, per army standards, whereas mine was a bit longer, sticking straight up most days, and I allowed myself a bit of stubble on my face - purely out of laziness.

"I'll see you down there."  Tammy closes the door behind her, leaving me with nothing but my thoughts and my white jacket again.

I take my time pulling the jacket on over my black dress shirt that I've paired with black dress slacks, allowing it to freely hang open.  Dressing up has never been comfortable to me; I prefer jeans and a t-shirt, to be honest. I suppose this is something that I'll need to become used to. 

I stand myself in front of the mirror attached to my dresser, taking in the sight before me.  I thought I would feel - more grown up?  I'm a doctor for fucks sake.  I look exactly the same as I did the entire way through college, standing inside my childhood bedroom that still has Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles posters and sheets with blue shag carpet and a Star Wars lightsaber nightlight.  I swear I'm a bigger mess now than when I started school, at least I felt like I had my shit together back then.  This week has just been blow after blow to the ego and I'm exhausted, causing dark circles to form under my eyes.

I sigh, and take one more glance in that mirror, running my hand through my hair and trying to make it lie flat, but knowing it won't happen.  I just know it's the first thing my mother will mention when she sees me.

"Well Logan," I laugh into the mirror, "time to go let everyone down again."

•  •  •

"And where will you be practicing?"

I toss another appetizer into my mouth and pleadingly look to my brother across the room for help.  I'm not sure how many times I can be asked this question by complete strangers before I completely lose my mind.  Nate grabs one of his kids in his arms and begins making his way towards me. 

Thank God, I need relief.

"I'll be splitting my time between Mayo and Minneapolis emergency rooms while focusing on family practice solely from Minneapolis Family Care."

The man furrows his brow and begins to mutter about how he could have sworn my mother told him I had become a surgeon. 

Yeah, she probably did.

This man was now the third person to mention that.

"Nope, I plan to diagnosis runny noses and UTI's all day," I roll my eyes.  "Excuse me, my brother needs my assistance."

I walk away before the man can say another word and hold my hands out to help Nate.

"You don't want him," Nate laughs as his head shakes.  "He needs a diaper. He literally smells like shit."

I continue holding my hands out for Gabe, mentally telling my brother that the dirty diaper is worth it if I can escape this fucking room for ten minutes.  He hands the two-year-old off to me and grabs the diaper bag from the floor of the hallway, before we return to our childhood bedroom.

Gabe immediately nestles himself into me, as he usually does. I love this kiddo. I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before tossing him into the bed and hearing his giggles fill the tiny space.

"The party isn't that bad, man." Nate hands me a diaper and the wipes, "other than dad isn't here."

I huff and attempt to undress my nephew as he crawls across the bed to avoid his changing. "Mom is telling people I'm a goddamn surgeon..."

Nate's lips purse as he nods. Obviously he heard her say it too. So either she has no clue what I just spent the last seven years of my life doing or she's ashamed that I became the easiest type of physician I could be. I'm going to go ahead and assume it's the latter. Since my brother seems oddly silent about the subject, I'm going to take that as confirmation that I'm correct with that assumption.

"Where is dad anyways?" I hold Gabe's legs up in the air, finally seeing that my brother was right, this is one nasty diaper. Green shit is smeared up his back. "He needs another set of clothes," I cringe. "What the fuck do you feed this kid?"

"Language!" He smacks me upside the head with an extra set of pajamas, reminding me that we are in the presence of young ears. "And dad is golfing."

I should have known he would rather golf than celebrate the fact that I graduated and got a real job. Father of the year - not.  Whatever, if he was here we would likely be arguing about my missed potential.

"You should start giving him foods higher in iron," I begin cleaning the sticky mess. "Or they have iron drops over the counter you can give him."

"I'll pick some up, doc." Nate rolls his eyes and pushes me to the side so he can start redressing his kid.

He's likely been letting the kids eat whatever the hell they want. His wife, Abby, has been deployed for two months and still has ten to go. He never could cook and he's vegan, somedays; I hate to think what he's offering them.

"Oh good, you're both here!" Tammy appears behind us and kicks the door shut with her foot. She begins waving an envelope in her left hand. "I thought we could give Logan his gift before he makes up an excuse to leave his own party."

All three of us laugh, knowing this is definitely something I would do. I've made my showing in my white coat. I'm sure I'm not needed for anything else. I would hate to ruin my mom's falsified stories of her perfect surgeon son anymore tonight.

"You guys didn't have to get me a gift," I grab the envelope from her hand and begin ripping it open. "But I'll take it."

Tammy shoves my shoulder playfully and hops into my old bed to begin tickling Gabe, much to Nate's annoyance as he tries to get his son dressed.

I pull out a card that says nothing more than Congratulations with the signatures of my siblings and the attempted signatures of Nate's kids that are done in green crayon and take up about eighty percent of the open space of the card. A folded up piece of paper attempts to fall from it but I catch it before it hits the blue shag carpet below.

Minneapolis Travel Company, Inc. is named within the header. As I read on, the paper offers an all inclusive two-week vacation to a Tropics Resort destination of my choice, including round trip airfare.

"Jesus Christ," I mutter and look up to my beaming siblings. "You guys did not have to do this. This had to cost a fortune..."

"It wasn't as much as you'd think," Tammy clarifies and sits up straighter in the bed. "Logan, life keeps throwing shit at you and you keep taking it. It has ever since we were kids and we know that's why you chose the profession you did."

My jaw clenches and I grip the paper tighter in my hand, causing it to crinkle a bit. These two know me so well; they are correct about why I chose the profession I did. It's taking everything in me not to cry like a fucking man-baby right now.

"Yeah, but guys, this..."

"You need a vacation, man." Nate picks up Gabe and gives me a nod. "You look tired and we know you are. No one blames you for that; you're going through shit and mom and dad aren't helping. Take a break before you start that dream job of yours. Get drunk on a beach every night or sleep in, go scuba diving, do something other than sit in your damn apartment all day long sulking."

"Do I really look that bad?" I mutter with a forced laugh. I mean, I know about the bags under my eyes and I know I feel tired but these two sharing a look right now and not answering is telling me a lot.

I look like complete shit, apparently.

"All you need to do is pick one of the places on that list and go see the travel agent for her to set up," Tammy clarifies pointing to the paper, blatantly ignoring my question. "But you should do it soon because you only have a month and you may not get your first pick if they are booked."

There are about twenty different resorts listed and all of them sound absolutely amazing.  We never traveled much growing up because we were constantly moving.  We settled in Minneapolis when we were about twelve.

I hold the paper up, trying to form a sentence that could possibly sum up the large 'thank you' that I need to offer for this amazing gift.  Every time I go to open my mouth, my jaw quivers and threatens to assist in the unleashing of tears.

"This is amazing," I finally give a nod and a small laugh.

Both of them throw their arms around me, practically squishing my poor nephew between us.

Nate gives me a few hard pats on the back, before Tammy finally yells out a "Congratulations, Doctor Hodge!"