I laughed at Andie’s exasperation. I heard this diatribe from Andie at least once a month, and while she was 100 percent correct in her frustration because the other two X-ray techs were flaky and missed shifts that Andie had to cover, I knew Andie loved her job. She’d wanted to work in medicine since she was a kid. We’d often played ‘doctor’s appointment’ where Andie would take my blood pressure, hold the plastic stethoscope to my chest and ask me to cough. But by far her favorite part was always the imaginary X-ray, where Andie would make a buzzing sound and describe what my insides looked like in graphic detail. It was much more interesting than my own childhood aspirations, when I acted like a reporter as I held a large spatula in her face like a microphone and asked hard-hitting questions about what she’d witnessed on the playground that day. My career path had evolved once I got into social media and events but Andie had always known exactly what she wanted, something I admired about her. Although, I hadn’t given up on the idea of being a reporter just yet. My dream job still lingered in the back of my mind, the idea of chasing down stories to get to the truth still appealed to my researcher brain.

I exited the highway just after we passed the fender bender that had caused the lengthy delay. Now that we were within a few miles of my grand uncle’s house, I felt my nerves start to jangle. I kept checking the fuel gauge, the speedometer and the GPS anxiously. I wasn’t sure why Andie had agreed to let me drive.

‘Well, I’m just glad you were able to come with me,’ I said, rolling up the windows and fidgeting with the dial to turn on the air conditioning. I swiped the sweat off my brow, not wanting to be a clammy mess when I met my new grand aunt and uncle. ‘I’m so nervous and not sure what to expect. I feel like I’m going to sweat through this shirt.’

‘Are you kidding me? I would have quit my job before I’d miss this. That hospital needs me more than I need them, let’s be honest. You’re my cousin, Lizzie, I would never let you go meet this guy alone. We know basically nothing about him.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘He’s in his sixties and his wife will be there too. I’m not really worried about it being safe.’ The British voice, that now sounded exactly like Helen Mirren, instructed us to take the next left. ‘I’m just worried that it’ll be awkward. And what if I don’t like them or they don’t like me? What if they’re weird, or rude or …’