by Amanda Faye
"Dr. Taylor, what a pleasant surprise. Or not, because the only surprise is that it took you so late in the day to call. I already checked on the Peterson twins, and Mrs. Miller twice. Everyone is fine. It's your day off, in case you forgot. You need to learn to relax and not bother—"
"Barbie, you know I love you, but I need a favor. Emma Adams son was hurt. He's on his way to the ER now. They say he has a bad face lac that needs to be looked at. Stitched for sure, maybe surgery. Grab a suture kit and all my goodies and meet me there in ten. If he gets there before us, do NOT let anyone touch it. Use your charm, and if that doesn't work, bodily block them. Darcy is probably already waiting for them. He can fix everything else, but I don't want him messing with that boy's face. Got me, Barb?"
I can hear Barbs' footsteps through the car's speaker system, slamming on the ground, and doors crashing open and closed around her. I can't help the tears that leak from my eyes as they're talking, and I give a big sniff and use my free hand to wipe them from my cheeks.
"Got it, boss. The kit is in my hand, along with the numbing cream and the facial needles. I'll meet you there."
The line clicks off through the car, and silence resumes in the air.
I keep doing that time-space continuum thing, where you look up from driving and can't remember how you got the last few miles. It happens to me sometimes in the OR too. Muscle memory takes over, and all of a sudden, I'm sewing the patch onto the exposed hernia and can't actively remember the last few steps. We're already miles away from the restaurant, and I don't remember passing anything to get here. I'm a beast in the operating room. Ask anyone. But suddenly, when it's my own kid that's hurt, I become a bumbling basket case. When I start tugging on my hair, Logan reaches over and takes my hand in his. I try to pull my hand away, but he holds me tighter.
When the light turns green, Logan lets me go and floors the pedal again, weaving in and out of cars. It's then I notice his emergency blinkers are on. No wonder I don't remember getting this far, the city is whizzing by us as he rushes to get us to the hospital.
Chapter 24
Logan
I make it to the hospital in record time, and even better, we didn't get pulled over. Instead of parking in the regular lot or our assigned spots in the employee parking, I slide into a place attached to the emergency room staff and throw the car into park. I'll send an intern out to move it once I have a better idea of what's going on.
I'm half a step behind Emma when we come bursting through the ambulance bay doors.
"Where is he?"
Esme is standing at the intake table, somehow knowing that Emma would come in through the restricted doors rather than the main entrance.
Emma comes to a stop in front of her, quickly scanning the area in search of her son. Esme puts both of her hands on Emma's shoulders and gives her a tiny shake.
"Calm down Ems, he's fine. He's fine. He's trying to be tough and brave, and seeing you storm into the room like some sort of avenging mother isn't going to do you or him any good. They've only been here a few minutes longer than you have."
I've assumed a position behind and to the side of Emma. Without realizing it, my hand is at the small of her back, rubbing in soothing circles. Esme misses nothing, and I can see her swallowing her smirk as her eyes flick over the scene we present and then focus entirely back on her sister in laws face.
"Darcy was escorting him to x-ray while I came out to wait for you. We'll meet in room five."
Emma takes in a gulp of air and then transforms in front of me. Her back straightens, her s-pine stretching strong. Her shoulders pull back, and she gives her head a little shake as if to settle her doctor persona firmer onto her bones. Signaling to a passing nurse, she hands off her jacket and purse, then strides purposefully towards the doors that lead to the treatment rooms.
I hang back for a minute and am not very surprised to see that Esme has hung back with me.
"Since when?"
I don't try to play dumb.
"Since my first night here."
"Nice, Emma." She sounds like a frat boy instead of the Spanish Queen she typically seems like when speaks, and the chuckle relieves some of the tension singing through my body.
"Make sure you're on your A-Game in there. Darcy can read her like a book."
Turning, I give her my full attention; my arms crossed over my chest automatically. She grins at me even wider, and it makes me feel all sorts of discombobulated.
"Should I honestly be afraid of Darcy? I'm a big boy Esme. I can take care of myself. We're not doing anything wrong."
"She told you not to tell her brother I take it?"
"She told me not to even be in the same room with him."
"That should tell you all you need to know. When it comes to Darcy and Emma, think of them as different extensions of the same person. He's not going to take kindly that his other half is keeping secrets from him. If you want her to sleep with you again after this day is over, I'd suggest you go home right now."
I think about it for a moment, then shake my head no.
"I'm a pediatric plastic surgeon, and there's an adolescent with a facial lac. There's no way I'm not working on that patient."
Esme smiles so wide her face must hurt, and reluctantly pulls a smirk from me as well.
"I knew I liked you. Just guard your Los cojones then. Darcy has a protective streak wider than the Grand Canyon, and her last boyfriend escaped before Darcy could lay hands on him. He's been itching to hit someone for almost a year now."
She turns to follow after where Emma disappeared, and after a heartbeat, I fall into place after her.
Perfect. Fucking Perfect.
Chapter 25
Logan
I can hear Emma and Darcy from out in the hallway, and what sounds like a bout of tears gallantly trying to be kept inside a little person's body.
Barbie is standing outside the doorway with everything I asked for laden in her arms. Instead of the warning I got from Esme, or the scolding I'm expecting, she gives me nothing other than an eyebrow raise and a nod of understanding when I shrug in reply. I'm not about to start explaining and apologizing now. Better save it for when I need it.
Motioning for Barbie to proceed me into the room, we walk in like a team, and everyone pauses in their conversations to stop and stare at us.
Esme is smirking like she's enjoying the show. All she's missing is a lazy boy and a bucket of popcorn. Emma has a hundred emotions flying across her face at once. Her hands are steady on her son's knees, but I see the fear still coating her like a cloud. Darcy is giving off clear 'What the fuck are you doing here vibes,' and Charlotte and her kids are sitting in the background, pushed up as close to the walls as they can get. Darcy put Brandon in a trauma room, which is the only reason so many of us are fitting in here at one time.
"Hey, Buddy. Long-time no see." I reach my hand out beside me, and a pair of gloves get slapped into my palm without me having to say anything. Barbie pulls up a tray on wheels and starts laying out my supplies.
"Hi, Logan. I didn't mean to ruin your date." Sniffle, Sniffle.
Damn, this kid is killing me. If I were in his shoes, I'd have been a crying whimpering mess. Inst-ead, he sits up straighter and tries not to let anyone see his weakness. Emma is doing one hell of a job with this guy.
"Oh, honey, you didn't ruin anything. It's okay, kiddo." Emma reaches to run her hand through his hair but pulls back like she's been burned when he lets out a giant wince at the contact.
"I'm a boring date anyway. Next time your mom tells you she needs a rescue, though, fake the accident. There's no need actually to break your arm."
He tries to smile, but all he can do is grimace in pain.
"That's a good tip, kid. Remember that for when you're older." Barbie gives Brandon an exaggerated wink, and all of the adults in the room let out an uncomfortable laugh at the truth in her statement.
Darcy's posture stiffens with every word we speak and is looking back and
forth between his sister and me like he's debating who to attack first. Emma, for her part, keeps all of her attention on her son. She's probably pretending Darcy, and I aren't even here. Esme and Charlotte's exchange knowing glances, and the tension levels in the room hitch up to an eleven.
Darcy puts his hand on his sisters shoulder, all but marking his territory.
"I can handle this, thanks, Dr. Taylor."
Barbie has pushed the rolling chair up behind me, and I hesitate before I take a seat. This man is more than just my girlfriend's brother. Not my girlfriend. She's not my girlfriend. Shit. Shit. Shit.
He's my boss. Brandon is looking between us, not sure what's going on, but smart enough to know something is happening, and he's in the middle of it. Emma is still just rubbing her son's knees like a worry stone. She'll be no help in this situation. She shouldn't have to be. She has more important things to worry about than me pissing off her brother. He's not just her brother though, for the time being, he's my fucking boss.
Right then. I just need to take the fact that it's Emma and her kid out of the situation.
"I understand, Dr. Adams. However, I'm a plastic surgeon. A plastic surgeon that specializes in pediatrics, and it would be amiss of me not to handle a pediatric trauma where facial nerves and scaring are a distinct possibility. Does his arm need surgery?"
"No, thank goodness. Just a cast." Emma looks up at me with a pleading expression on her face, and I soften internally at the agony in her eyes.
"Good. Then if you'd go ahead and cast Brandon's arm for me, Dr. Adams, I can get started on his face. I can tell by looking at it that he won't need more than sutures. We can work together."
Darcy opens his mouth to protest, but Emma turns those gorgeous puppy dog eyes on her brother, and he snaps his mouth closed instead.
Esme makes a small celebratory movement in the background, and I have to choke on a laugh. Darcy turns to see what caught his eye, giving his wife a similar glare. Luckily, Emma didn't seem to notice the drama her sister in law is creating in the background.
Sliding my foot into the chair legs behind me, I sit down and roll up next to Brandon's sleep seeping cheek.
"Okay, buddy, here's the plan. You know how most of this works already, I'm sure. I'll break it down for you step by step, and if you have any questions, stop me and ask them. It may be your face, but there's no reason why this can't be a learning opportunity too. Your mom says you're thinking about being a doctor. Is that right?"
He gives me a nod. I'm relieved to see some of the pain in his face being replaced by interest in what's going on around him.
"My niece wants to be a doctor too. You guys can practice doing stitches on each other when you get to med school."
Emma moves away from the table, and Darcy takes her spot, slipping the liner of the cast onto his nephew's wrist. We pause for a moment so that Brandon can make a note of what Darcy is doing, but let's be honest, watching a cast dry is about as much fun as watching water boil, and Brandon quickly turns his attention back to me.
"Can I— , can I watch, too?" chirps out from the back of the room. John is timid where he's sitting in the background, but I agree with enthusiasm, and we all resituate so that John and Tessa can get a good view of what's going on with Brandon's face.
"First things first. We need to clean the area. If we weren't in a hospital, we'd clean it with soap and water, and then I would probably go over it with alcohol wipes. I carry a first aid kit with me everywhere, and it's a good habit for you kids to get in. We're in a hospital, though, so we're going to use iodine."
I go through the steps with the kids, from cleaning the wound, then coating it in numbing cream. I let that sit for almost fifteen minutes while we talk about things like how the x-ray machines work and why I'm even bothering with the cream, to begin with. Once I'm sure his face is good and numb, I follow up with lidocaine shots. I do the double numbing with all my kids, but I feel self-conscious with parents I'm looking to impress in the room with me.
Barbie is at my side, handing me supplies and explaining things she thinks would be interesting for the kids. At one point, while we were waiting for the cream to kick in, she leans down and whispers in my ear, "Stop petting the pretty lady." It's only then that I noticed my hand is on Emma's leg, where hers is up against mine.
"We can do this one of two ways, Brandon. We can ask John and Tessa to leave, and I can have you close your eyes while I stitch up the wound. If you were any other kid, that's what we'd do. I'd make you lay down with your mom on the other side, helping to hold you still. Or maybe even put you to sleep. It's not going to hurt, you have my word, but it will still feel weird, and would freak out most kids. I'm guessing 15-20 stitches, big man. But you're not most kids. So, we can do that, or I can have Tessa hold up a mirror, and you can watch while we stitch your face. It's going to bleed some, and you'll feel the pulling of the skin as I make sure the seam is smooth and even. But, if you want to, and if you think you can handle it, we can do that."
"I'm out." John looks physically sick at my description, and Charlotte laughs as she asks if anyone else needs a drink.
"Oh, heck yeah! Can I watch mom?" Brandon looks over the moon at the prospect.
I didn't think to ask Emma first. Afraid of what I may see, I turn to face my wayward date, prepared to be scolded for my recklessness. Instead, I'm rewarded with a fond look shared between her son and me.
"Sure. Get up first."
Scooting back to help Brandon off of the table, Charlotte takes John out of the room while Emma situates herself onto the hospital bed with her legs spread, then pats the bed between them for Brandon to climb back up. It takes Darcy and I both to get him back on the bed situated and safe, and then Emma wraps her arms around her son, fingers entwined with both of his hands.
"You still okay to hold the mirror for us, Tessa?"
Unlike her brother, Tessa is grinning from ear to ear, and happily takes the square of metal from Barbies hands. I give all of the older kids the option to watch what I'm doing, and I'm relieved that Barbie grabbed the kit with the mirror in it.
"Here we go."
Unsurprisingly, his eyes close as I reach to make the first stitch, but by the time the third one is being pulled taut across his skin, his eyes are full, and his mouth is following.
"Close your mouth, buddy. I need to keep everything aligned." He snaps it shut with an audible click, and Emma winces in mock sympathy of his jawbones.
It's a tight fit standing at the foot of the bed. It crosses my mind that this certainly isn't how I imagined standing in between Emma's legs this afternoon. I had lots of plans for being in between Emma's legs tonight. Standing, sitting, upside down. Ladies' choice, of course. Instead, Barbie is on my right, wiping under the wound every stitch to catch any runaway blood drops. Darcy is behind me, so close he's literally breathing down my neck. Tessa is squirming around anywhere she can, trying to ensure that Brandon can get a clear view of the mirror without her arms going numb. Esme took off twenty minutes ago when her pager called her back to business.
Emma is whispering words of encouragement to her son, and every other stitch or so she looks me in the eyes.
I have to admit, with all of the ways I imagined getting into Emma's legs tonight, this certainly wasn't one of them.
Chapter 26
Emma
"Do you think it's wise to get involved with someone who's going to be leaving in a few weeks?"
I jerk at the sound of Darcy's voice behind me, and my hands raise to my chest to try to calm my runaway heart. Sneaking up on me is becoming a habit. Looking back at him, a wave of relief pushes out the fright when I see our side of the two-way speaker turned off.
Clearing my throat in what I hope is an innocent way, I hesitate before I answer.
"What makes you think I'm sleeping with him?"
Darcy flips on the 'gallery closed' light and shuts the door to the observatory, then comes and sits down next to me. I purposely keep watching
the surgery below us instead of turning my attention to him. He can read my mind better when we make eye contact.
"Oh please. Don't try to pull that shit with me. I know you better than you know yourself. The way you're sitting up here alone mooning over him is as good a confirmation as a sign blinking over your head. But no.
"I've known something was going on with you for weeks. Now I just know what it is. You came bursting into the ER together, remember? Brandon mentioned you were on a date. Then Logan and Barb swooped in like some sort of avenging angel duo. Did you hear him call her Barbie? What's up with that? I tried to call her Barbie this morning, and I thought she was going to skin me alive."
I can't help the chuckle that slips between my lips. I can easily imagine Barb threatening Darcy. She's an institution around this place. Only Logan could have charmed her so thoroughly.
"Plus, the way he treated you in that trauma room. That wasn't the way a co-worker treats a co-worker when they're stitching up your kid. I've put stitches in half the children belonging to the employees of this hospital, and I never watched the parents the way he watched you. He likes you."
I spare a sharp glance to look over at Darcy, then turn my attention back to Logan. His form is beautiful, his hands and fingers gracefully stitching up a skin graft donor. I expected Logan to be one of those surgeons that blasted hip-hop or pop music through their operating rooms and was pleasantly surprised to hear classical music wafting up from the speakers.
"I told him never to talk to me around you." I can't help that my voice sounds petulant. "But I suppose yesterday couldn't be helped. Thank you again for taking care of Brandon until I got there."
"Don't be stupid. I'm just glad I was here. Esme and I are planning on coming over after work to see the little guy if that's okay."