by Stacy Borel
I slapped at his arm. “Alright, sir, turnabout is fair play. Tell me something about you.”
“Let me think about this one.”
I shook my head. “Oh no. You don’t get to think about it. You made me answer under pressure. Well, here’s your pressure, Mr. Tell Me Something. Three . . . two . . . one.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Annabelle. Okay, I almost joined the Navy before I headed off to college. I wanted to become a Navy SEAL.”
Whoa, I was slightly impressed. “Why didn’t you?”
“Another question, another line. Let’s go, pretty girl, ask me at the bottom.”
Serenity clipped Turner onto the next line of the course. “Ready to go!” she announced.
He took no time flinging himself off the edge. This section seemed a little shorter than the last one. He did this so carelessly and freely. I doubted that by the end of the course, I’d feel confident enough to step off without thinking of every possible way I could die. My brain just didn’t work that way, or allow me to relax. But, at least this time, I knew what I was expecting when I would let myself fall. I saw Turner reach the bottom and give a thumbs up. Guess it was my turn. Getting clipped in, I lowered myself to a seated position and allowed gravity to do its job. No running starts for me.
I heard Turner say a little “whoop” for me when I was near the platform. When I got to him, I was successfully stopped by Joe, and unclipped.
“You’re getting good at this,” Turner commended.
I rolled my eyes. “Did I really have a choice? Seems to be the only way down at this point.”
“You have a point.”
“If I go on another date with you, I swear I’m going to need in writing and possibly a blood fingerprint what you’re plans are. No more of this surprise freaking Annabelle out stuff.”
He laughed. “But you’re doing it aren’t you? Are you enjoying it?”
I thought for a moment. “I think I’ll find it enjoyable after I get home and realize I’m safe and sound from your crazy antics.”
“Oh, Annabelle, these aren’t crazy antics. Unless I take you skydiving or bungee jumping, this is quite tame.”
My eyes got round. “I will never throw myself out of a perfectly good airplane for shits and giggles, Turner Brooks. So count me out.”
“Noted.”
He was amused by me. Joe was standing back allowing our moment and not interrupting our date. I kind of wished he would keep us moving so we could get this over with. Wait a second . . . this was the third platform. Didn’t Serenity say this was the one that would be interesting? Crap. I looked around for anything that was different about this one versus the last two. That’s when I saw it. There was a small wooden bridge that extended outwards about six feet. A cable went across it but it looked just like the ones we’d just traveled on. Maybe we were supposed to walk out and step off. Why in the world would we do that instead of doing it from right here? The bridge looked unsteady.
“Are we going?” I asked, ready to keep moving.
Joe came into my line of sight. “Yep, but here’s where you have two options. You can either go down this one like you have the others, or . . .” his “or” sounded ominous. “You can walk out on this little plank here like a pirate, and take a leap of faith.”
Turner wagged his eye brows at me. “Argh!” He tried to sound like a pirate.
“Not funny.” I glared at him. “What do you mean a leap of faith? As in, just step off? Do you slide down the line still?”
Joe shook his head. “Nope. This one is a little simpler than that. You jump off the edge and once you’re at the bottom, you walk to the next station.”
I gulped. Were they insane? I already thought the was the worst idea ever was throwing myself over the edge of a hillside, but now they are asking me if I want to plummet eighty feet to the bottom? No way, no how. I already knew my answer. I was barely comfortable with this whole zip lining thing, this was just insanity to me. And of course I didn’t need to ask Mr. Daredevil if he planned on jumping. He was.
“You going to do it?”
“Hell no. I’m quite fond of my legs and arms being intact, thank you very much.”
Turner stepped into my little bubble again. Why does he do that? His woodsy aftershave washed over me and made me slightly dizzy. Men should not smell this good. He brushed his hand down from my shoulder to my elbow leaving a little trail of goose bumps in its path.
“It’s not really the kind of free fall you’re thinking it is. The line catches you and lowers you halfway down.”
I met his blue eyes head on. “That halfway is still too far for me. I’ll go the ‘traditional’ route.” I gave air quotes.
“You’re very stubborn, you know that?”
“Ha! So says the king of Stubborn Land.”
Then he did something I didn’t expect. He bent down and lightly kissed the tip of my nose. My poor heart went into over drive. Until now, Turner had yet to make any move to actually kiss me. Sure he’d kissed my hand at the end of our other date, but that didn’t count. Not like this. And, of course, he chose now to plant a sweet delicate one on me when my nerves were already a hot mess. I’ll give him credit though, it did shift my attention to other things. Like how tender he was. How in that split second I could tell his lips were silky soft. And now how I wanted to grab him by his collar and pull him down to me and kiss him the way I’d been thinking about for the past two weeks. I felt flushed all over and I shifted on my feet. Needing a little air, I cleared my throat.
“Well, you better make the plunge to your death. Your mom’s number is in your phone right?”
He gave me another full bellied laugh. “Yes, it’s in my phone.” He started making his walk out on the very flimsy wooden boards. The further out he went the more it wobbled. “Annabelle?”
The sound of his voice calling my name felt like it was a shot straight to my soul. Why was I feeling this way?
“Yes?”
“There’s more where that came from.”
He leapt. My God, could the dude get any more brazen or cocky? Did it make my heart leap for joy? Yep. But that wasn’t the point here. Clearly he thought he could do whatever he wanted if he sweet talked enough, or put me under his little spell and got close enough. No wonder all those women fell for him. He was like a little devil in scrubs. Err . . . well actually khaki shorts and a t-shirt that all fit him entirely too well. The bastard.
Looking over the edge, he landed on a black cushioned mat that was well worn from other jumpers.
“You proud of yourself?” I called down.
“Yes, ma’am. You really should try it. It’s more fun than you think.”
I gave him the “ok” hand sign. “I’m good.”
Joe hooked me up to the traditional line and told me Serenity was waiting for me at the other end. Only difference between the last two times I’d gone, and this time, I noticed my nerves weren’t in full effect like they had been. I zoomed down the line thinking of nothing but Turner and his adorable mouth. I questioned if I would allow him to kiss me again if he tried. And if he did, would it be on my nose again, or on the lips. I was getting wrapped up in the thought of him when my feet touched the bottom. Turner was climbing up a ladder on the side to meet up with me.
“Was it a good one?”
Okay, was he referring to the ride, or the kiss? Certainly not the kiss, it was just on my nose.
“It was enjoyable.”
He smiled. He knew I was questioning what his he was really asking. I rolled my eyes.
We spent the rest of the morning bantering back and forth, with quite a bit of heavy flirting. We exchanged information about one another that was completely meaningless and yet I found it interesting and fun. There was a bit more to Turner Brooks than I’d previously given him credit for. He more than intrigued me. When we were making the long drive back to my house, I’d come to the conclusion that I may actually like him. Sure it made me uncomfortable, but that was m
erely because I hadn’t allowed myself to like or crush on anyone in years. Never saw the sense in it. But today, I opened myself up to the possibility of actually seeing where this could go. Granted, not if it meant putting my life at risk every time. But still, I liked him.
Once we made it to my door step, Turner looked down at me with wonder in his eyes.
“I want to go out with you again, Annabelle.”
I laughed. “Why do you look like it amazes you that you’re even asking me?”
His smile wowed me like it always did this close up. He was so beautiful it nearly knocked me off my feet.
“Because it does.”
“You’re an odd one, you know that?”
“Well, I could say the same about you. So what do you say? Another date?”
I tried to make him wait for an answer, I really did. But my answer came out faster than I planned.
“I’d love too. But wait . . .” I held up my finger. “I refuse to go anywhere that makes me jump off things, go faster than seventy miles per hour, or anything in general that I have to sign a paper stating I may die.”
He snickered. “It’ll be low key.”
I turned my head slightly to the side showing him I was skeptical. “Okay, sir. Well, be careful heading back home. And again, thank you for today.”
It got quiet. Like tense quiet. I was looking at him and he was looking at me. There was a moment in time where you knew he was going to kiss you, and you just had to be ready for it. I wasn’t ready, but I’d take it. Turner bent at the waist. I went up on my tippy toes. Just when I thought our mouths were going to meet, he went left, and I felt his warm lips on my cheek. My cheek? Squeezing my hand and releasing it, he stood at his full height and wished me a good day. When he was gone, I went to sit on my back porch to ponder the whole date. I was really starting to get a complex. Turner had kissed me three different times now and not a single one of them was on the mouth. Not a single one of them was full of the passion or ferocity that I pictured him giving the other women he pushed into the supply closets at work. Was he even in to me? Was I his type? Maybe he was looking at me like a buddy, or someone cool to hang out with. I never got the friendship vibe from him, so was I reading him wrong? Maybe. That kind of stung a little. I guess the next date we had I would have to try and pick up on his cues a little more. I didn’t want to invest too much more of myself in him if I was only friend material.
I waited for him to call and tell me what we were doing next.
IT WAS BEFORE MY FIRST twelve hour shift of the week and I decided to do something unplanned. I decided to stop in the NICU to check on the baby boy I’d helped deliver last week to see how he was doing. I hadn’t ever been in here other than to do a few hours of clinicals. A few monitors were beeping and I was looking around the room at all the incubators and infants fighting for their lives. I viewed this room like I did the Oncology floor. People fighting for their lives wasn’t my cup of tea. I was better off bringing lives into the world and sending them on their merry way. Not pushing them to take their next breath and watch the families cry or grieve over loss. I’d seen enough of that to last me a lifetime.
“Can I help you?” A tall blonde nurse approached me. She had gentle eyes and a soft voice.
“Um, yeah I was actually looking for a baby that I helped deliver last week that was brought down here.” Crap, I didn’t know his name. “He was unnamed when he left L&D, but the mother was an addict.” I wracked my brain for her name. “Adalyn March.” It occurred to me. “So it would be Baby March.”
Her tone became even softer. “Oh yes, he’s right over here.” She led me to a far corner of the room. “He’s quite the little fighter.”
As we approached, a baby small enough to fit in one of my hands was lying on his stomach, monitors attached to his frail body covered by almost transparent skin, a feeding tube in his nose that likely went directly to his stomach, and a breathing tube. It was almost painful to see. Such a small life fighting with everything he had, when he didn’t deserve to be brought into this already cruel world in such a harsh manner.
“Has his mom come to see him?”
She looked perplexed. “Unfortunately, Baby March was abandoned. The day she delivered and was put in a post-partum room, she walked out a few hours later and hasn’t been back. Nobody knows any contact information, and she never asked any questions about him before she left.”
My hand automatically went up to my mouth. I felt like I wanted to be sick. How could a mother carry an infant, give birth, and just abandon it? Doesn’t matter that she didn’t carry him to term. He was her child. He would have loved her unconditionally and expected nothing in return other than what she could offer him. I just couldn’t understand it.
The nurse, whom I’d learned was named Cassie, told me the baby’s stats and what the doctor was expecting from him over the next couple of days. When babies came down here to NICU, they were usually checked in on every hour. They were given short term goals because that’s what the staff had to rely on. Baby steps, if you will. Anything past that was just asking for too much too soon.
Cassie left me standing by Baby March’s bed, and I turned to face him. He really was very fragile. I couldn’t help what I was doing though. I stood there, and counted all ten fingers and all ten toes. Someone needed to do it for him. He deserved that much. I closed my eyes as tears welled in them. I took a deep breath and exhaled. Life wasn’t fair. My parents were taken from me far too early, and I’ve been fighting to survive on my own for years. It was a struggle for me at sixteen. Why does an infant that weighed no more than three pounds have to suffer? Why was God picking him to have this battle? There were just some things I don’t think I’d ever understand.
There was two covered holes in the incubator where nurses were able to reach gloved hands inside and make adjustments to his wires and tubes. Without asking, I went to the sink, washed my hands, and suited myself up to handle him. When I touched him for the first time, a small spark hit me. Not like electricity, but something indescribable. I wanted this baby to live. I cared that he was being cared for by the best. And I also realized, in that moment while my covered hand stroked his little back, that no matter how many nurses and doctors were checking in on him, I would be down here as often as possible ensuring that he knew he was loved. I stayed there with him for almost an hour, nurses moving around me, some even coming over to chat. They appreciated the extra support I was providing. But really, I was being selfish. I was doing this for me too. Something deep down inside of my very being needed the reassurance. He would be okay. I would accept nothing less.
It had been a very long day. I was on a quick ten minute break and on the tail end of my twelve hour shift. Visiting the baby this morning took a lot out of me emotionally, and assisting four other deliveries today was about all I could handle. I just wanted to stuff my face, and clock out. No wine or book necessary tonight. I simply needed sleep.
I was sitting in the locker/break room when the door opened and a little surprise walked in. Turner was carrying two Styrofoam boxes with something that smelled absolutely delicious. My poor stomach caught a whiff of the food too, and after that it was all over with. Was there an equally delicious man holding those boxes? No clue. Standing up I went straight to them with a one track mind. Turner held a box up, offering it to me. Snagging them from his hands, he chuckled.
“Hungry?”
I sat down and opened the lids. Deep fried chicken, mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, and coleslaw all attacked my senses. I think I moaned. Turner shifted in his chair. I glanced up at him and he watched me with an equally ravenous look I had for the chicken. I gulped.
“I’m sorry, did you ask me something?”
He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. I take it you’re hungry?”
I picked up a leg and stuffed it in my mouth. I had no patience for politeness right now. “Mhmm. I’ve not eaten since six o’clock this morning.”
He glanced down at his
watch. “That was over thirteen hours ago. Don’t they give you breaks on this floor?”
I swallowed a massive bite of piping hot, greasy chicken. “Yeah, but I have had too much other stuff to do. Charting, sending stuff down to the lab, giving the doctors updates. It’s been quite the day.”
“Sounds like it.” His eyes roamed over my face. As the food was settling in my empty stomach, I was able to focus on something other than my hunger. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him looking at me like that. “Y’all always this busy?”
I picked up a plastic fork and stuck it in the potatoes. “Not always. Just during shift changes it gets hectic, and of course if there’s a full moon.”
“I thought that was an old wives tale?”
I shook my head. “Didn’t you learn this stuff during your OB rotation?” I couldn’t help the laugh that came out.
“I don’t think I paid much attention, honestly.”
I explained, “It’s not really an old wives tale. There’s some truth to it. When there’s a full moon, there’s something to do with the gravity and earths pull and tilt that causes something to happen in a woman’s body if she’s close to her due date. It can help move along labor or get it started. I’ve checked out the calendar a couple times when there’s one going on. The rooms tend to be a little fuller.”
He thought it over. “Huh, I guess you learn something new every day.”
I nodded. “Yes, I suppose you do.”
I continued to eat my food in silence while Turner watched on. The other box of food remained untouched.
I pointed my fork in its direction. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Yeah, I was just distracted by the view.” He reached forward and pulled the white container toward him. He had the same thing I was eating. Picking up a thigh, he brought it to his mouth and took a bite. I watched his jaw and lips moving with rapt attention. I had no idea eating could be so sexy. “You okay over there?”
The smugness in his tone told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me. Damn it, Annabelle, get your shit together. This wasn’t the time or the place.