“That I’m Married to Medicine. But if she knows any eligible neurosurgeons, I’m taking applications.”
Jessica linked her arm through mine. “Seriously though—this is ridiculous. Mom invited half the medical school. Dean Wilson is here.”
I scanned the crowded Terrace and indeed spotted the dean chatting with our father. “Wow. They really went all out.”
“Too all out. It’s mortifying,” Jessica lowered her voice. “And why just for me? We both graduated. We both worked our asses off.”
The knot in my stomach loosened slightly. Maybe Jessica was more aware than I’d given her credit for.
“Audrey, Jessica—” our mother appeared, champagne in hand. “Jessica, the Henderson just arrived. You remember Thomas Henderson, the chief of surgery at Cleveland Memorial. You should come say hello.”
She took Jessica’s arm, effectively separating us, then glanced back at me. “Audrey, could you check if the Caterers have put out the gluten-free options? Your cousin Beth is being difficult about her diet again.”
And just like that, I was relegated to catering management while Jessica was paraded before Hospital administrators. Some things never changed.