Ortega smirked. He threw his last ball and it landed a centimeter from the Jack. He’d won. “I don’t think Koels has that sort of loyalty to his son. Or… anybody. He’s a pretty Machiavellian guy. He picks the best man for the job, even if his stated reasons might be bullshit. You should know that better than anyone. You won his favor.” He paused. “Now all you have to do is keep it.”
I frowned. “Are we talking about me?”
Ortega shrugged his shoulders. I wanted to press him for an answer, but Drs. Gupta and Finkey were now waving us over to what looked like some cake. “Looks like our game is over.”
At least I would get cake as a consolation prize. It looked like chocolate. “You win.”
“I always win,” Dr. Ortega said. I got the feeling I was being tested and failing.
I caught up with Faith near the cake. She looked tired and I capitalized on it by wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss. She was wearing a full, pink skirt and white lace top. She was a far better confection than anything Mrs. Ortega had cooked up. “How’s it going?” she asked me in a whisper.
“It’s going,” I replied in the same low tone. In truth, this whole party felt like a social minefield.
“I know the feeling,” she said. Her voice was just above a whisper. “I can’t wait to get out of here. I think I might end up a member of the stepford wives if I stay much longer.”
We’d been here for two long hours already. Our goal had been two and a half. We were almost there.
“Mrs. Ortega told me I’m pregnant,” Faith told me. She looked vaguely disturbed. “Apparently having swollen feet means I’m pregnant, not that I’ve just worked a double shift on my feet.”
I looked down at Faith’s feet, thanking condoms for the fact that her being pregnant was more that ninety-nine percent impossible. They did look a bit swollen though. She was shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Let’s just get out of here.”
“What about the cake?” Faith asked. “Is it rude to leave early?” They were dolling it out now.
I looked Faith up and down. Both of us worked such busy schedules that I’d barely had time alone with her since she slept over a week ago. This afternoon was our first opportunity to spend more than a frantic few hours together. It seemed an awful waste to spend any more of it on cake. “I don’t really care if it’s rude. I’ve got something much sweeter in mind.”
30
Faith
“Did you know that there are these really cool robot prosthetic limbs you can move with your brain now?” Vanessa asked Caroline and me. We were having lunch together at a local burger joint.
Caroline and I nodded simultaneously. “Yeah, they’re pretty cool,” Caroline said after swallowing a bite of her hamburger. She shoved her blond hair back from where it had escaped her ponytail and leaned forward excitedly. Caroline loved talking about rehabilitation. “Really expensive though. And sometimes they don’t work.”
“They should have just given me one of those,” Vanessa said after a moment. “Then I could be a cool cyborg.” She sounded vaguely put out that she was destined to a life with all her limbs. “Instead, I just have this useless hunk of meat.”
Caroline shook her head in disagreement. “No way,” she said. “You’re so much better off with your own body parts.”
“Says who?” Vanessa asked, arching an eyebrow. “Because I think I’d look really good with a robot arm.”
“Doctors.” Caroline smirked at Vanessa. “You know those prosthetic limbs can’t do nearly the same things your arm will be able to do, right? They don’t have anywhere close to the range or the sensitivity of skin and muscle.”
Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Well right now it’s just a glorified paper weight.” She still had her arm in the sling that she’d been discharged from the hospital wearing, although she was able to use it a little bit now. She was living in a rehab facility right now, relearning how to use her arm. We’d smuggled her out for burgers.
“That’s not true,” Caroline replied. “You can grab things with it.”
Vanessa made a sour face, but still managed to look pretty while doing it. “I can pick up things with my toes better than I can use my hand.”
“It’ll get better,” Caroline promised. Her voice was full of encouragement.
“I still think I would have made a really sexy cyborg,” Vanessa grumbled.
Vanessa’s positivity in the face of her injury was incredible, even if it was cloaked almost entirely in snark and sarcasm. That was just her personality. It was endearing.
If I looked just a little deeper, I could still see that Vanessa was struggling with the fallout of her accident. Every now and then, she’d get this strange, faraway look in her eyes that I could tell meant that she was thinking about Sam. I figured if she was able to move on from her accident and put a brave face on things, I really had no right to go around being dour about my prospects with Eric. It was clearly better just to enjoy the time we had together as a result of our mistaken little marriage and not worry too much about the future. I was trying my hardest to live in the moment. Because you really never knew when the moment could end.
“What about just a nice hook?” I suggested to Vanessa, playing along. “Then you could be a pirate.”
Vanessa looked like she was giving it some genuine thought. “Hmm… The only problem with a hook is that I would definitely poke my eye out with it.”
“Then you’d really look like a pirate!”
She grinned. “You’ve got a point. If this whole rehab things doesn’t work out, I’m gonna’ request an amputation and a nice hook.”
“What do you mean ‘if this whole rehab thing doesn’t work out’?” Caroline groused. “There’s no way I’m letting my roommate and friend give up on physical therapy. My pride would never be able to stand it.”
Vanessa’s expression softened. “I was just kidding. This is hard, but it’s obviously a lot better than not having an arm. I know I’m lucky.”
Caroline nodded. “Ok. Good. Because I’m pretty sure I would be the worst physical therapist ever if you gave up on your rehab.”
“I’m not going to give up,” Vanessa confirmed. Her expression turned stubborn. “If those little kids with bone cancer can do this, so can I.”
My heart twisted in my chest at the thought of it. “That must be so hard to watch.” I worked with sick people all day, and sometimes sick babies and children, but rarely with children suffering from cancer. I didn’t think I was cut out for it.
Vanessa shook her head. “It’s not. Actually, it’s really inspiring. I thought it would be depressing to see the kids, but they don’t let anything get them down.”
I nodded after a moment, thinking that I’d witnessed some of the same resilience in my own pediatric patients. Sometimes the babies were the toughest fighters of all. “I guess that’s just how kids are,” I said, “they don’t mind being different until the world teaches them it’s bad.”
“Kids are the best physical therapy patients,” Caroline agreed. “Not only do they heal faster than adults, but they don’t complain nearly as much, and because they don’t know that something is impossible, they don’t ever give up.”
“They sure are annoying sometimes though,” Vanessa added with a shrug. “I come from a big family and I can definitely only take one kid at a time.”
“Yeah, I’m definitely on the fence about kids too,” Caroline said. “I mean, maybe one day, but not any time soon.”
I shrugged. “I want kids. I want lots of kids.” At least three. I’d decided long ago that I wanted a minimum of three. Vanessa nodded in agreement, although Caroline missed it.
Caroline smirked at me. “How very Catholic of you.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not about that. I’m not concerned with being fruitful and multiplying. I just like kids. Plus, I grew up as an only child and it was really lonely. I want my kids to have siblings.” Not to mention the fact that caring for an ag
ing parent or grandparent would be a lot easier if my kids had siblings. I was doing it all myself, and it was just about impossible to ever get out of the financial hole.
“Well, considering that you manage to work with babies all day and still don’t hate babies, you’re probably the right woman for the job,” Vanessa said. Her voice was clearly impressed. “More power to you.”
I smiled, but it quickly slid off my face. More and more, I was starting to let myself imagine a future with Eric. I knew I shouldn’t do that, but it was impossible not to.
In some of my fantasies about the future, Eric and I didn’t have kids. It was just us, happily living our lives together. And those fantasies were perfectly nice. But in my most secret dreams, we had it all, the whole package that Eric swore he didn’t want any part of: marriage, baby, house, and dog.
“How’s Eric?” Vanessa asked, perhaps sensing that my thoughts had turned. She could probably see it on my face. I’d never been good at hiding my inner thoughts.
“He’s good,” I replied. “We’re good.”
Vanessa smiled. “I’m glad you two are making your fake marriage work. It’s inspiring.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Thanks.”
“No, I mean it,” she added. “I’ve seen a lot of people not be able to make their real marriages half as successful as your fake one.”
“It’s only been a couple of months.”
“Yeah but you don’t hate each other yet.” She grinned. “And you still have your jobs.”
I resisted the urge to make a flip comment. “Considering the circumstances, I guess we’re doing alright. We just have to make it a few more weeks.”
Caroline frowned. “Then what? After you do get the annulment, what will you do? Are you still planning on ending things?”
“I don’t know.” I frowned right back at her. “I just don’t know.”
31
Faith
Over the past couple of weeks, Eric and I had quickly fallen into a rhythm of texting each morning and sleeping together every opportunity we got. Our busy schedules made it hard to date, but we were trying. He had to get up early for his shift the Monday after my most recent sleepover, but when I woke up in his bed (again), there was a text waiting for me.
Eric Carter [8:05 a.m.]: Meet me for lunch?
Faith McNamara [9:30 a.m.]: Sure. What time?
Eric Carter [9:35 a.m.]: Noon? The Lone Star Lounge?
It was a bar not far from the hospital. I’d been there once or twice for happy hours with other nurses. The bar didn’t serve food, but they had a pretty impressive food trailer presence on their patio. Not to mention one of the best bakeries in town next door.
Faith McNamara [9:35 a.m.]: It’s a date.
I was off on Monday morning, my shift didn’t start until mid-afternoon, but I swung by the hospital anyway. I wanted to see Caroline and check on Vanessa. I ended up not being able to do either of those things. Koels cornered me not long after I made it inside.
“Good morning Faith,” he said happily. “Have you and Eric thought about a good day for me to come over for dinner with your mother yet?” His look was hopeful.
Bile and guilt rose in the back of my throat. I’d caved and let Eric pay for my mom to stay in New York until the Easter holidays. It hurt my pride, but she was so happy to be there that I justified it to myself.
“She’s actually in New York right now,” I told him.
Koels’ face fell. His blue eyes filled with an emotion that I couldn’t decipher. “Oh.” He paused and then looked up hopefully. “Well when does she get back?”
“Probably not until after Easter,” I told him.
I felt evil, but I knew my mom was enjoying seeing my grandparents and that they were delighted to have an extended visit with her. As for Koels, he looked like I’d just shot his puppy.
“That’s too bad,” Koels said, “but I’ll wait.”
I stifled a smile. He really was persistent. “Ok, Dr. Koels.”
“I’ll check in with you again near Easter, Faith.” I had no doubt that he would.
My pager and phone both buzzed simultaneously. “Sorry, I need to check this,” I mumbled. Koels was already retreating. He nodded distantly.
I knew there was no chance that Koels would forget. He’d remembered this long. We were already into early February. He’d remember until April. I just knew it. But at the moment, I had other things to distract me. My phone buzzed again. And again. And again.
What fresh hell is this? I wondered to myself.
Eric Carter [10:00 a.m.]: I’ve got an emergency.
Eric Carter [10:00 a.m.]: A big one.
Eric Carter [10:00 a.m.]: My sister Mary just arrived at the ER. She’s pregnant, but it’s too early. I’m tied up but can you check on her?
Eric Carter [10:00 a.m.]: I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t an emergency.
Faith McNamara [10:01 a.m.]: I’m already in the hospital. I’m on my way.
Eric Carter [10:01 a.m.]: I don’t deserve you.
I beat a hasty path to ER and found Lucy once again working the intake desk.
“Is Mary Carter here?” I blurted.
Lucy blinked at me. “Good morning Faith. I didn’t know you were working this morning.”
“Hi Lucy. Mary Carter, is she here?” This wasn’t how I wanted to meet Eric’s sister, but it was happening whether I liked it or not.
Her eyes scanned the paperwork in front of her. “Room two thirty,” Lucy said. Her eyes were wide and confused. I was already running down the hallway.
“Thanks!” I called over my shoulder.
“You’re welcome!”
I slid to a stop in front of room two thirty. Should I fix my hair? Check my makeup? There really wasn’t any point. I knocked and entered.
Inside, a woman with dark hair and eyes that were the same shade of green as Eric sat reading a magazine. She looked up at me in annoyance.
“I hope you’ve come to tell me I can go home now.”
I blinked at her. This was Eric’s emergency? “Are you ready to go home?”
She nodded and rolled her eyes. “They’re just Braxton Hicks contractions. But I know I’m supposed to come in if there’s any pain so here I am. Wasting time. On a Monday when I have a deadline.”
By the looks of her, she was just entering the third trimester. If this wasn’t her first pregnancy, she probably knew whether or not the contractions were real or not. I smirked at her.
“I’m Faith McNamara. Eric sent me to check on you.”
Her lips parted as she looked me up and down. “Are you really?”
“Which part is a surprise? That I’m Faith or that Eric sent me to check on you?”
Her lips snapped shut into a little smile. She looked…satisfied. “Neither, I suppose.” She shook her head. Her hair was the same dark brown as Eric’s. “It’s nice to meet you.”
I sat down on the stool adjacent to her bed. “It’s nice to meet you too. You’re probably right by the way. None of those contractions are lasting more than two minutes though, are they?”
She shook her head. “No. Just a few seconds.”
“And the frequency is totally irregular?”
“Yes. They seem random.”
I nodded. “They won’t let you go until they do an exam and an ultrasound. You’re at the bottom of the priority list right now, too. Expect to be here at least four hours.”
She made a face. “At least you’re honest with me. The other nurses just say someone will be along to see me soon.”
I spread my hands. “That’s the standard line. They have to say that.”
“Well, it sucks.”
“Sorry.”
We lapsed into silence. I wondered if I should just go. Mary didn’t seem very friendly.
“Eric told me you two are married.”
I blinked. “Oh?”
“Well, not really married. But fake-married. For now.”
I looked at the door, making sure
it was closed. “Did he tell you why we’re doing this?” I asked.
Her eyes bore into mine. I felt like she was trying to see straight into my soul. To see what kind of a person I was. I’d never felt so thoroughly evaluated. After that garden party, I’d thought I’d already been through the ringer of the women that wanted to know about me and Eric. Apparently, that was just practice for the real fight.
“Yes,” she said after a moment, “but I don’t trust you. Eric is my little brother, and I love him very much. I’d do anything for him.”
I had no idea what to say to that. “Of course, you love him,” I eventually stuttered. Mary was seriously intimidating. It was a good thing that I came from a long line of intimidating women myself. If I could put up with my mom, I could put up with Mary.
“You’ll never see a cent out of him.”
“What?”
“This won’t work out like you think it will.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m not sure what you think I’m planning, but—"
She cut me off. “Look, I’m just being honest with you. You were honest with me about the wait I’m facing, so I thought I’d return the favor. Whatever you’re planning, whatever it is, you’re going to fail. You’ll never get one over on our family.”
I wasn’t usually the type to get rude with pregnant women, but Mary was beginning to rub me seriously the wrong way. “Excuse me?” Perhaps I’d misinterpreted her.
“You’re either in love with Eric and think he’s going to marry you and live happily ever after with you, or you’re in this for money. One is ridiculously foolish, and the other one is clever. I have a feeling that you’re clever, aren’t you Faith?”
Was that supposed to be a backhanded compliment? Because it just sounded like an insult to me.
“I’m just trying to get promoted.” This was getting weird. Was I obligated to talk to this woman?
She rolled her big green eyes. “Yes, and to fund your APN license. Yes, Eric told me.”
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