Page 56 of Wild

"I'd ask if you're okay, but with those eyes and that worn-out look, I'm guessing you're not," Nell says, direct as ever. "What's going on? Is it your sister?"

"No, it's not about Brooke."

"Then who is it about?"

"Me." Erin exhales and looks down at the glass. She just took a sip and it tastes awful, but the burn in her throat and chest feels oddly comforting, so she takes another.

"Okay." Nell settles back in her chair. "What's wrong?"

"I don't recognize myself." Erin doesn't look at her; she's fixed her gray eyes on the amber liquid and can't pull them away, like she's hypnotized. "Today I realized I don't know who I am when I don't have a role to fill. When I'm not taking care of someone, I'm alone at home waiting for the time to pass until I have to go to work and do the only thing I know how to do."

"You're Erin Dooley—a woman who's spent her whole life giving to others. But right now, here with me, you're just Erin." The doctor finally looks up. "I don't know you all that well yet, but you don't strike me as someone without a self. You strike me as someone who's lost and running on autopilot. You have to start separating things, Dooley, and putting yourself first."

Erin blinks, confused.

"Start making yourself the priority. If you're not okay, you'll never be the best version of yourself. Think about what you want and what you need."

"I don't know what that is, Nell," she cuts in, frustrated.

"Yes, you do, Doctor. The problem is you've never made yourself a priority. Everyone wants something—some people take it, others ignore it, and the rest don't know how to get it.You're in the middle group, because you think what you want doesn't matter, and it should be the most important thing in your life."

Erin looks at her, then back down at the liquid in her glass. She's not so sure she knows what she wants, but she has to admit she's always put everyone else ahead of herself.

"Do you like your job?" Nell asks.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"That answer doesn't count, honey—either you like it or you don't. Take your time."

The doctor tries to do as she's told, but right now she's counting how many different ways Nell has addressed her so far. By the time she gives up keeping track, she focuses on the question and spends over two minutes in silence—silence Nell respects without interrupting or pushing her.

"I like it, and I'm good at it. I'm really good in the ER."

"But?"

"I don't enjoy the rest of it—the hospital, I mean. Everyone knows me, but I don't feel connected to anyone, and most of the time I feel like I'm just someone who haunts the hallways without anyone really seeing me," she admits, surprised to hear herself say it.

"Good, we're getting somewhere." Nell nods. "So now we know that part of your job doesn't make you feel comfortable. Which part does?"

"The work I do with MediSupport—the company that brings me in as medical support for events. Every time they hire me it's to go somewhere new, where there are new people and I can introduce myself as the woman I am now, not the hospital ghost. And I have Barry, my partner. I feel comfortable with him. He makes me laugh with his terrible jokes, and the hours fly by when we're on duty together. I like covering those events whereI don't know if I'll have to step in, and if I do, having to react without knowing exactly what happened."

"Like what happened with Mia," Nell says.

"Exactly. I had to work with whatever little I'd managed to figure out on my own. At the hospital there's always a handoff—someone tells me what happened before the patient even arrives. With Mia, I had no idea if it was a faint from exhaustion, from being high, or something more serious. That shot my adrenaline through the roof and made me feel like I was actually useful."

"So now we know a little more about you. You're not a woman without a self—you're a woman who thrives on fast action and thinking on her feet."

Erin goes rigid and blinks, struck, because she realizes—yet another thing she's discovering today—that her life has always felt flat and predictable. Every morning she's woken up knowing exactly what she had to do, knowing exactly how her day would start and end. When she works with Barry, she knows how it starts but never how it ends.

"Do you have hobbies?"

"I like to read."

"Just reading? Don't you like to travel? Or a good movie at the theater, museums, the opera—I don't know, Erin, there are a thousand things. Me, for example, I like collecting mugs. I buy one in every city I visit. I love going out for a walk, wandering the streets at my own pace, reading at night in bed, or having breakfast on the terrace. I also prefer live theater to movies, I hate Asian food, and I go crazy for good tacos and a beer. Those are the things I enjoy now. What do you enjoy?"

Erin smiles—a small one that comes out more as a breath through her nose.

"I think beyond reading and wearing cargo pants"—she points to one of her legs—"I don't really have any other hobbies. I've never been to the theater. Movies don't get me out of the house,because if I want to watch something, I do it at home with a huge bowl of popcorn and a soda."