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The Vitamin Solution

vitaminhatbaseballlightningzombie

The hat was the first thing Mara noticed when she walked into Tom's hospital room. It sat on the nightstand, a battered baseball cap she'd given him fifteen years ago, back when they were both junior analysts pulling eighty-hour weeks and believing in the myth of meritocracy. The brim was frayed now, the team logo faded to a ghost of itself.

"They said you collapsed," she said, pulling the chair closer to his bed. "In the middle of a presentation."

Tom laughed, a dry sound that caught in his throat. "Lightning strike. Literally and figuratively. The storm outside, plus my heart decided it had absorbed enough stress. Doctor says I'm like a walking vitamin deficiency. Been surviving on coffee and ambition for two decades."

Mara reached for his hand, his skin papery under hers. She'd visited him three times this week, watched him transform from the man who'd built half their department's systems into someone who couldn't remember his own password. The contrast was terrifying.

"I feel like I've been a zombie," Tom continued, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Just going through motions. Built everything they asked for, missed my daughter's graduation, forgot what it meant to have hobbies outside of work. For what? So I could die in a glass tower before turning fifty?"

The baseball cap caught a sliver of afternoon light. Tom had worn it to every company softball game, back when they still had those. Back when they pretended work could also be family.

"What are you going to do?" Mara asked softly.

"Starting tomorrow," he said, turning to face her, "I'm taking my vitamins. Actual ones. And I'm going to coach Sarah's team. She's twelve now, plays baseball. Can you imagine me giving back to something that doesn't have a quarterly earnings call?"

Mara squeezed his hand. "I think you might be good at it."

"Maybe," Tom said. "Or maybe I'll just be the guy who almost died to learn how to live. Either way, I'm done being their zombie."

Outside, lightning split the sky. Inside, for the first time in years, Tom smiled like he actually meant it.