Last Girl

by K. S. Thomas

  I laugh, and busy myself with lining the kick baskets with new bags in hopes Nat won’t notice that my face has turned the same shade of red her girlfriend likes to wear on her lips.

  When I stand up straight again there’s no need to confirm or deny anything anymore. Nat’s total delight at my expense makes it pretty damn clear she picked up on my flushed skin tones.

  She claps her hands together in mock applause. “Congratulations, Trix. You got your shit together. Next step, bigger and better career choices.”

  I frown. “What do you mean? Do you know something I don’t know? Am I getting fired?”

  “No, of course not. You’re the best nurse anesthetists we’ve ever had here. But come on, our little private practice is peanuts compared to what you could be doing out there with your skills. You really find it satisfying to do elective surgeries day in and day out when you’re used to high intensity, live or die scenarios?”

  I shrug halfheartedly. “We do a lot of pro bono work. It’s not like they’re all cosmetic surgeries. I mean, I couldn’t do boob jobs day in and day out.”

  “Stop. You’re selling yourself short by being here and you know it. You need to get out. Go find some messed up hospital in a shit neighborhood to work in where they really need you and you can grow and excel at what you do.”

  I know she’s right. It’s not like it hadn’t occurred to me a time or two, especially during the last surgery. Which was a boob job.

  “But I love working here. With you.”

  She stares back at me blankly. “Well, obviously. I’m awesome.” Then she breaks into a half grin and slugs me playfully in the arm before she continues. “It’s not like you and I are going to stop being friends. You’re stuck with me now. Besides, I’m way too invested in this mess with you and Penn. There’s no way I’m walking away now. At least not until after I’ve been your maid of honor. And have a kid named after me.”

  I can feel a surge of giggles bubble up within me until they spill over. “You’re nuts. Maid of honor? A kid? We’ve been a couple for like two seconds. Dial it back a notch.”

  But Nat doesn’t see it that way. “Oh please, so you’ve finally managed to say a few poignant words out loud...to each other...you really think those feelings came out of nowhere? No. They’ve always been there. You know it. I know it. Penn definitely knows it. And we all know you’re getting married. And having babies. And one of them is going to be named Natalie. Or Nat. If it’s a boy.”

  I suck in a deep breath to try and calm the chuckles still bursting out of me. “I guess that settles it then.”

  “Thank goodness. Now then, let’s finish this so we can get Mrs. Morgan’s leaky boob extracted and replaced with a new one.”

  Nat’s right. I need to look for another job. Or, at least talk to Penn about taking the one I was offered last week. Although, it’s not so much a job. And it wasn’t so much an offer. And I already know Penn won’t go for it.

  Penn

  I hurry home after my shift as fast as I can. As luck would have it, I make it just in time to join Trix for her shower. Then it’s up to her to hurry to try and get to work on time since my showing up definitely set her back in her morning routine.

  We had too many calls to get any sleep last night, so I crash as soon as she’s gone and don’t wake up again until it’s almost lunch time. Perfect. We’re due for a date at the Taco Shack anyway.

  “Well, well, well. Look at you. Yep, that’s a matching set right there.” Nat smirks, pointing at my face.

  “What?”

  “That dopey grin you’ve got. It’s a perfect match to the one Trix has been sporting since yesterday. Well, probably longer than that. That’s just how long I’ve had to endure it.” She nods toward the doorway leading to the back. “I’ll go grab her. Unless of course you’re here to see me. I mean, I haven’t gotten a call in days. Can’t say it doesn’t sting a little. Being dropped like that the second Trix falls into your lap.”

  “I’ll bring you back lunch.”

  “Then all is forgiven.” She winks, then disappears in the hall leading away from the reception area.

  “Can I ask you something?” Melissa, the receptionist pipes up from behind her desk.

  “What’s up?”

  “If you didn’t already know how to sign...would you still have gotten involved with a deaf girl? Would it have been worth the effort?”

  My first instinct is to get pissed, but then I take a second look at her and I realize this has nothing to do with Trix and everything to do with her. And whatever jackass she’s got her heart set on. My guess it’s that male nurse who works here, the way she’s always staring after him even though he hardly seems to pay attention to her.

  “I learned to sign when I was six. And I didn’t do it for her. I did it for me. So that I could talk to her. Know her. Be a part of her world.” I look away, trying not to show how much I pity her and the ass she’s waiting on. “That’s the thing about putting forth effort. When it’s for something you really want...it feels effortless.”

  When I turn back toward her, she’s got glassy eyes and a forced smile. “Trix is really lucky,” she whispers hoarsely.

  “Let him go. Whatever he’s not doing. Whatever his reasons are. Let him go.” I nod reassuringly. “You’ll get lucky too.”

  I tap the counter uncomfortably. Trix can go ahead and show up anytime now.

  The door into the waiting room swings open as if on cue.

  She’s beaming. She’s walking toward me. Her lips touch mine. Life is good.

  “You should have texted me to let me know you were coming. I would have been ready when you got here.” She’s sitting in the passenger seat of my truck same as she’s done a million times, only it’s different now. She’s mine this time. And somehow that makes her even more beautiful. Or maybe it’s the short hair. It’s sexy and sassy and so totally Trix, it makes me wonder why she never cut it in all these years.

  I reach over and curl a strand around my finger, then let it spring back into the wild waves of golden silk a second later.

  “Have I told you how much I love your hair like this?”

  She tries to fight a satisfied smile unsuccessfully. “You didn’t put it into words, but I got the general idea the other night. But never mind my hair, why didn’t you let me know you were coming? I could have saved you from whatever awkward conversation you were having with Melissa.”

  I chuckle. “Nah, I think she needed to have that little chat with me. Even if I could have done without it. And I didn’t text because you don’t let people know you’re coming when surprise is an important element of the plan. How am I supposed to take you for a surprise lunch when it’s not a surprise?”

  She smirks. “Point taken. Now drive. I’m starving.” Then she slides into the middle to rest her head on my shoulder and her hand on my thigh the entire drive there. It isn’t nearly long enough.

  When we walk inside it takes Lupe all of thirty seconds to realize we’re holding hands.

  She clutches her heart and just stands there soaking in the sight of us.

  “Um, will you be letting us sit down and eat today? Or should we just settle in here for lunch and then order something to go?”

  Lupe slaps my arm and gives me a scolding glare then goes right back to beaming from ear to ear. She sighs loudly. “I don’t remember the last time my heart was so happy. Come on. We need to celebrate.” Which is code for Menudo. One sideways glance at Trix and I know she caught that part.

  We follow Lupe back to our table and take a seat while she keeps moving toward the kitchen. Within a matter of minutes we’ve got a table loaded full of everything from fresh salsa to hot bowls of Trix’s least favorite soup, which today, she’s actually eating.

  When I shoot her a curious glance she just shrugs. “She’s so happy for us. It’s the least I can do.”

  Which reminds me. “Think Nat will want a bowl? I told her I’d bring back lunch.”

  “You’re b
rining Nat lunch? Why?” Her eyes are suddenly half their usual size and slanted.

  “Because I’m banging her on the side.” I watch and wait for her to smile. “Because I dig her. She’s a cool chick. And, I kinda owe her for not giving me shit when I called her to ask how you were doing. Well, that’s not true. She gave me shit. A lot of it. She’s still a cool chick though.”

  Trix seems to take this explanation in stride as she slurps another spoonful of soup. Then she sets the spoon down and pushes the bowl away having given it her best effort.

  “I’m glad you think she’s a cool chick.”

  “Yeah? Why’s that?”

  “Because we’re naming a baby after her.” Sometimes sarcasm with Trix isn’t as easy to detect as I’d like it to be.

  “You’re joking, right?”

  Her shoulders bounce up and down lightly. “Maybe.” Then she helps herself to the pile of chips in the center of the table.

  “Well, we can get back to that.”

  “True.”

  Her expression changes ever so slightly.

  “What?”

  She puts back the chip she was about to eat. “I need to tell you something and I don’t want you to freak.”

  I drop back into the cushion of our booth. “Well, that’s great. Now I’m freaking and I don’t even know why yet.”

  “I need to rework that opening,” she signs thoughtfully. “Next time.”

  “Where are you going with this, Trix?”

  “I got an email last week. They’re desperate for volunteers. In Syria.”

  I shake my head before she even finishes. “No way. You just got back! And fucking Syria? Are you kidding me?”

  Her mouth twists back and forth painfully. “I know. But it would only be for two months. And after that, I’ll drop out of the program for good. I promise.”

  Somehow the Taco Shack is losing its appeal more and more. It’s definitely not conducive to our relationship.

  “Only two months. In a country being blown to bits. Sure. Why not.” I slide my plate across the table. I’ve lost my appetite.

  “Penn, please don’t be a butthead about this. You of all people should understand why I need to do this. I got into this line of work to help people. To make a difference. And, honestly, I haven’t felt like I’ve been doing that much lately. This job hasn’t turned out to be nearly as satisfying or challenging as I thought it would be.”

  I pick up my fork and start to fiddle with it. “No shit. Why do you think I wanted you to take that job at County? That place is non-stop action with patients who genuinely need saving. It’s like your Doctors Without Borders gig but minus the explosives and flesh eating bacteria.”

  Her eyes alone are calling bullshit. “That’s not why you wanted me to take that job. You wanted me to work at County because you know the most people there and it would make it easy for you to keep an eye on me.”

  I point my fork at her. “That too. But also because I know it’s the kind of place you would really thrive at. It would challenge you. Push you. And not in the life-threatening ways you experience when you go do your volunteer work.”

  “I really think you’re being a tad dramatic. And hypocritical considering your line of work. You gonna quit because it stresses me out to no end worrying about you every time you leave for your shift?”

  I exhale, trying to release some of the tension building up within me. “That’s not the same, Trix. If something happens to you over there, I can’t even get to you. Hell, I don’t even know how long it would be before anyone told me.” I bury my face in my palms in frustration, groaning loudly. I want to stay like this. If I don’t look up, she can’t keep telling me that she’s leaving. For two months. Going to a place thousands of people are trying to get the hell out of.

  “I won’t go if you don’t want me to.” The soft tone of her voice wrings my heart and I’m fucked.

  “Of course I don’t want you to go. The only thing I want less than you going to Syria is you not going because of me.” I sigh, defeated. “So, you’re gonna go. And I’m going to get drunk for two months straight until you get back.”

  “You mean it?”

  Her teal blue eyes are swimming in appreciation and something I’m startled to recognize as love. So that’s what that feels like. Having someone look at you like that. It’s a feeling I’m going to hold onto. I won’t need whiskey. I’ll have this.

  “Yeah. I mean it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Trix

  With every day that I get closer to having to leave, I grow more convinced that this is a stupid idea. I should stay. Why am I going to go thousands of miles away when what I love most in the entire world is right here? Ironically, it’s Penn who reminds me of why I’m going every time I begin to unpack my bags again.

  When the day finally rolls around, I’m in tears from the time I wake up until the time I board the plane. And even then I don’t stop until I fall asleep, a distant gaze stuck on the window which shows me nothing but endless white.

  Once I arrive at the clinic, I no longer have time to second-guess my decision to come here. The work is non-stop and the patients erase any selfish desire I have to be in my own house, tucked in my comfy bed and wrapped up in Penn. Although I am grateful. Beyond grateful, knowing what I have to go home to when my time here is up.

  One week in, and I come down with a wicked stomach bug. When I’m still throwing up ten days later, they’re half tempted to send me home. Thankfully, the nausea subsides enough to lead us all to believe I’m on the mend and I stay. I work. I think about Penn.

  “I miss you.” It’s how I open every one of our video calls.

  “Don’t be crazy. You’re way too busy to miss me.” He smiles and my heart aches. “Wanna see something cool?”

  “Always.”

  I watch as he peels his t-shirt off over his head and I’m wondering if cool is the right work for what I’m seeing. Hot is more like it. Then, when I’m less distracted, I notice a new tattoo inked on his chest, slightly to the left, right above his heart. It’s the sign for I love you. Only it’s abstract and artistic looking, not just simple lines.

  “I can’t believe you got that. It’s beautiful.”

  He peers down at it, then back up at the camera. “I wanted something to make me feel like you were with me. Always. Even when you’re doing crazy shit like saving lives in Syria.”

  “Is it working?” I half hope his answer is no. I’d hate to think I could be replaced by three inches of ink embedded into his skin. Even if it is the most romantic fucking thing I’ve ever encountered.

  “It’s keeping me sane. Until I can have the real thing anyway.”

  Won’t be much longer.

  “Ten more days. Then I’m getting back on that plane and flying home.”

  “Ten more days.” He glances down at his watch. “Maybe I better get going, head to the airport now.”

  “You’re nuts.”

  “It’s part of my charm.” He smiles. I guess it kinda is.

  Penn

  These have been the longest two fucking months of my life. Now it’s down to two hours and I still don’t feel like I’m getting any closer to holding her in my arms again. Time is moving slower than ever while I poke around the house waiting for the moment I can grab my keys and run for the truck. I even cleaned the place. I’ll sell it as a nice gesture, but honestly, I just needed something to do to keep from climbing the walls.

  It’s finally thirty minutes ‘til she arrives. Another ten and I can jump in the truck and head to the airport. It’s only twelve minutes from the house - I timed it when I took her last time – but I’m giving myself a buffer for parking. And walking to the gate. Granted, she’ll probably be stuck in limbo for a while, getting off the plane, getting to the gate, but I don’t care. At least we’ll be in the same place and that’s a start.

  I’m on my way to the fridge to grab a bottle of water for the road when my phone rings. It’s Tony.


  “What’s the flight number? Trix’s flight! What’s the flight number?” He’s shouting just to be heard over the loud wail of the fire engine’s siren. My blood runs cold.

  “Flight number 348. Why? What the hell is going on?”

  I can hear Tony swear but whatever else he’s saying is drowned out by the noise in the background.

  “There was a problem with the landing gear. The whole plane wound up sliding across the landing strip before it crashed. I don’t know how bad it is, Penn. But we’re headed there now. You should too.”

  I shake my head. He’s confused. It’s not her plane. “No, that’s not possible. You’ve got the wrong flight number. She’s not due to land for another twenty minutes.”

  Even in the chaos happening on his end of the line I can hear the silence he’s emanating. It’s the kind of silence that’s filled with unbearable sounds. Things no one wants to say. No one wants to hear.

  “It’s her plane, Penn. They came in early. I’m so sorry, man. I don’t even know what else to say. Just know that I’m going to do whatever I can to get her out of there. We all are. You have my word.”

  The line goes dead and all the noise disappears.

  Silence.

  I fucking hate silence.

  I’m out of the house and on the road so fast I don’t even remember if I closed the fridge or not. I don’t fucking care either way. I dropped the water bottle somewhere mid conversation with Tony, so there’s a massive puddle on the hardwood floors waiting for me when I get back home. When we get home. Trix’ll be pissed. She’s always on my ass about not leaving water on the wood floors.

  The next thing I register is walking in through the sliding glass doors at the airport. I have no clue where I parked. I’m not even sure if I used roads to get here. I may have cut through the fields. Would explain how I got here so fast.

  The whole place is filled with an almost overbearingly strained energy. People are either being shuttled into waiting areas or wandering around with the sort of sick interest I’ve seen on the faces of passing vehicles on every car crash site I’ve ever worked. Security is everywhere and outside, the blur of lights and sirens is enough to make me want to puke my guts out. I can’t do this again. I can’t.