by Max Monroe
She’d lived a pretty interesting life and never balked at sharing stories as I did my exam.
“Dr. Cummings.”
I tried not to sigh heavily as Melody followed me into the room and made a bid to Mrs. Linwood. “I’m just going to sit in if you don’t mind, Mrs. Linwood. Help the doc out.”
“Well, that’d be fine,” Colleen acquiesced, obviously a bigger fan of sweet little Melody than she was of me right now.
Though, on that account, I really couldn’t blame her. I was a much bigger fan of Melody than myself these days too.
“You need a chaperone anyway,” Colleen scolded me.
I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing and answered as calmly and neutrally as possible. “And why do you say that, Mrs. Linwood?”
“I saw you on the TV. I saw you bat your eyelashes at those women and take off your clothes while all of America watched. I’m not going to let you do anything inappropriate with me, sir.”
Melody sucked her lips into her mouth to stop from laughing, but I just shook my head. I couldn’t believe this shit.
“You’ve been coming to me for years, Colleen. You know me. Have I ever tried anything inappropriate with you?”
“Of course not. But I know how you young people get when you get on TV. Get a big head, think you can touch anyone’s anything anytime you want.”
Melody made big mocking eyes from behind Colleen’s head.
“Well, I assure you,” I comforted, “I have no interest in doing anything but making you relaxed and healthy.”
“I know you’ll behave yourself. We’ve got a chaperone. And by the way you’re looking at her, it’s her you’ve got the hots for.”
I choked on saliva and had to clear my throat violently. Melody looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the insinuation.
“Mmm-hmm,” Mrs. Linwood hummed.
Shit.
“Mrs. Linwood,” I implored. “There is nothing unprofessional going on in this room. I promise.”
Though, I couldn’t say the same for the things I’d imagined doing to Melody in this room. And out of it—in my apartment, on the street, anywhere, really.
“All right.”
“Can we talk about you now?” I asked. “Aren’t you tired of talking about me?”
“I believe I am.”
“Okay, good.” I agreed. “Me too.”
I grabbed the stool and took a seat, wheeling over so I could look her in the eye. “How are you? Any changes?”
“If by changes, you mean have I gone through them?”
I shrugged and nodded.
“No.”
I smiled in sympathy.
“Am I still bleeding all over everyone and everything like a stuck pig?” she went on. “Yes.”
I couldn’t help it. Her colorful description made me smile even bigger.
Unfortunately, thanks to my good nature, the smack to the back of my head took me by surprise.
Apparently, she no longer found me funny.
“Oh my God!” Melody squeaked, clearly as surprised to be witnessing my assault as I was.
She stepped forward clumsily, unsure how to intervene or if she should, but I waved her off.
“It’s okay. It’s fine.”
I stood up and moved away from Mrs. Linwood as calmly as I could, but really, frustration ran rampant within me. Jesus. I just wanted to do my job without walking around on eggshells all the time. I was a good guy with good intentions, and I didn’t want this to be my purgatory for the rest of my goddamn life.
“I think it’s best if we transfer your care over to Dr. Elders, Mrs. Linwood.”
I didn’t even wait for her to answer before scooting toward the door and asking, “Take care of that, please, Melody?”
“You bet,” she agreed easily.
The door slammed behind me. I headed for my office, but after two minutes inside, everything that was going wrong with my life started to overwhelm me, and there were too many eyes watching through my open door to have my reaction here. Even if I shut it, they’d just move closer to listen. An unexpected location was the secret to a good breakdown.
Out the door and around the corner, I stomped to our supply room and stepped inside, closing and locking the door, and turned immediately to rest my forehead against the cool wood.
“What is it with my life these days?” I shouted to no one as soon as I’d taken a breath. Maybe God. I wasn’t sure who I was yelling at or if it would do me any good, but ever since the stupid show had aired that first night, every woman I encountered either hit me or hit on me and nothing in between.
It was getting old. I bruised easily, for Christ’s sake.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t until the sound of Melody clearing her throat stirred the otherwise stagnant air that I realized I was not, as I had thought, alone in the room.
Good one, God. I get it. My stupid behavior is in no way your fault.
“So you’re in here,” I stated without turning around.
I could hear a smile in her voice as she replied. “Uh-huh.”
“I’m not alone.”
“Nope.”
“Great,” I muttered as I turned around.
Her soft eyes and sweet smile made it worth the initial embarrassment.
“Don’t worry,” she teased. “I have no bricks. No pitchforks. No weapons at all.” She held up her hand full of new gowns to show me. “Though, maybe I should. You know, just to protect myself.”
“So you heard about the show, huh?”
A soft smile curved the corner of her mouth before she dipped her head and stole away her eyes to look at the ground. She was laughing at me, I could tell, but she was nice enough to try to hide the fact that she was doing it. That made her just about the only one in the office or in my family. Basically, no one but Melody was nice enough to cushion the blows even a little bit. “Uh, yes. It seems to be a favorite topic around here.”
I groaned without meaning to and sank my head into my hands.
“Great. Just great.”
“Hey, obviously, it’s a hit. You should be happy.”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked with a laugh. “Have you actually watched the show?”
She nodded sheepishly. “After listening to Marlene talk about it yesterday, I had to watch last night.”
“Well, then you know I look like a seriously creepy dude. Inappropriate and all kinds of shit I wish I could erase from the memories of everyone around me.”
“It’s not that bad.”
I leveled her with a look, and she caved quickly, bursting into a smile that made the ridicule a little more worth it. She’s got a great smile. “Okay, so you look pretty bad. A little creepy, really flirtatious, but more than that, in my opinion, cavalier. Like everything is kind of a joke.”
I winced and leaned into the door in defeat. “Christ, that’s even worse.”
“But I’ve been here for almost two weeks now, and I’ve never seen you act like that. I don’t really get it.”
“Me either,” I admitted. “Some of it is creative editing, that much I know. But some of it, I think, was me just trying to be impressive on camera.” I shrugged. “Unfortunately, it comes off more…”
“Jackass.”
“That’s the word.” I snapped my fingers in self-deprecation. “Way more jackass than inspiring.”
“Look, Will, I’m far from perfect. I was late to the interview and my first day, and I showed you my nipples within fifteen minutes of meeting you. I’m not exactly a judge and jury here.”
“Wow. Late to the interview and your first day? Why is it we hired you?”
She smiled again, and every ugly thing boiling inside of my chest cooled. “Beats me.”
I shook my head. “Not me. I think I get it just fine.”
She blushed, and I took that as my cue to make my exit. “Thanks, Melody. I needed this.”
“This? What this?”
I shook my head, turned the knob on the door, but admitted the truth qui
etly. “You. I needed you.”
The door shut behind me soundlessly. Having left so fast after uttering the words, I didn’t even really remember stepping through the door.
But it was true. I’d needed her. She was professional and courteous and didn’t look at me like I was the guy on the show. And most of all, she’d comforted something inside of me, settled the churn of my stomach and calmed the chaos in my mind.
Maybe God wasn’t such a smartass after all.
“How far apart are your contractions?” Marlene huffed out into the phone beside me. I rolled my eyes.
We were holed up in the nursing office, returning a few triage phone calls that had come through while we were busy with office patients, and I couldn’t deny that I had a love-hate relationship with my fellow nurse.
Her sarcastic remarks while talking to patients were useful for my personal enjoyment—as well as for implementation as a device of a distraction from a sexy as hell doctor who liked to say things like he needed me—but I also kind of hated listening to it at the same time. Christ on a crutch, I’d spent way more hours than I’d like to admit wondering what he’d meant by those words and if I wanted them to mean anything at all. Did he like me? Was he just happy to have a nurse other than Marlene? Was my vagina a beacon of his desire? I didn’t know.
In a way, I had to be thankful for Marlene’s theatrics for finally smothering all of my overanalyzing.
But there were only so many times you could overhear your fellow nurse telling patients that her hemorrhoids were more painful than Braxton Hicks contractions and that said patient just needed to “Netflix and chill.”
I honestly didn’t even think Marlene knew what Netflix and chill really meant.
And I sure as hell didn’t want to know about her goddamn hemorrhoids.
She was a brilliant nurse. She knew her shit when it came to Obstetrics and Gynecology, and she’d seen and experienced more than anyone around her—even Will. But that brilliance was overshadowed far too often by her lack of compassion and patience. After working the same job for far too many years, she’d become jaded and, most likely, bored.
Plus, she was, like, seventy years old. By the end of one eight-hour shift, I knew more about her spider veins and bunions and back problems than any human would ever want to hear.
But sometimes, when she wasn’t insulting people callously or giving me the stink eye just because I was in her vicinity, overhearing Marlene’s phone triage conversations with labor patients was one of the highlights of my day. She had no filter. Like, no filter. She said all of those things normal human beings think but don’t voice out loud. And it certainly didn’t make me feel pure inside, but some of the shit she said was just too funny to ignore. I’d even started to catch Will milling around from time to time trying to listen.
“No,” she sighed into the receiver. “One contraction in two hours doesn’t equal labor. You probably have gas and need to fart,” she paused and then shook her head in annoyance. “Honey, if you’re in labor and deliver at home, then you’re a medical marvel. Fertility statues should be made in your honor.”
She rolled her eyes in response to whatever the patient was saying and brushed a crumb from her coffee cake off her pants. “I’m the head nurse. I’m giving you the best medical advice anyone can give you in this office. Stay home. Rest. Drink some water. Try to fart or take a crap. And call the office back if you reach the point where you’ve had five contractions an hour for two hours straight.”
Try to fart or take a crap. Beautiful and professional medical advice from Nurse Marlene Donahue.
Once the call ended, she hung up the phone, and at a snaillike pace, she pulled the patient’s medical chart up on the computer. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she started to type her version of the phone conversation into the patient’s chart.
9:55 a.m.: Patient called office to update that she has had one contraction in two hours. Contraction only focused on lower abdomen and does not spread around abdomen to her lower back. Patient rates the contraction pain a 2 on a scale of 0-10. She denies vaginal bleeding or leaking fluid. Nurse advised that patient drink water, rest, and attempt to fart or take a crap. Nurse instructed patient to call office back if contractions increase to five contractions an hour for two hours straight.
I had to give it to the woman, she didn’t hesitate to put her exact words into the patient chart.
As I finished up the notes on my earlier triage call, Melissa peeked her head into the room. “Load-y, Dr. Cummings’s ten o’clock is here.”
I glanced up from my computer with a furrowed brow. “Load-y?”
What the fuck is a Load-y?
Marlene slammed her fingers on the keyboard and cursed about technology under her breath, making me jump. I wondered how many weeks of working here it would take to get me used to her lack of finesse.
“Yeah,” Melissa said and popped the pink gum inside of her mouth. “That’s your new office nickname. Isn’t it great?”
Load-y? My nickname? Like someone just shot their freaking load on my face? Was she shitting me?
“Uh…not really,” I responded. “How about I just go by Mel?”
“Because I’m the Mel in this office.”
Of course.
“But everyone calls you Melissa.”
“Yeah, but sometimes I go by Mel.”
Sometimes? More like never. Two weeks into the job and I’d yet to hear anyone call her Mel.
“Okay… Then, I’ll just go by Melody,” I decreed and hopped up from my seat before she had a chance to argue. “And we can put the new patient in exam room six.”
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and handed me the patient’s chart before sashaying on her heels into the hallway. I followed her lead and noted that Melissa was walking straight toward an unsuspecting Will. He sat at a desk in one of the small alcoves in the main hallway and appeared busy reading through a patient’s medical file.
Instead of watching what would most likely be an entertaining exchange, I shuffled into exam room six to get the room set up. Melissa had turned into Nancy Drew, sleuthing on a daily basis in an effort to figure out which staff members Will had possibly slept with.
Not her, I’d deduced. Not her.
Which, I had to admit, made Will all the more impressive. She made it pretty obvious he’d had opportunity.
Not that I didn’t understand her a little. I wanted to be near Will too—but I’d also been fighting that feeling. The last thing I needed was another guy who wasn’t looking for something serious.
I didn’t know much about him. Maybe he wasn’t a player. But I knew all too well that women from all over Manhattan were willing to help him give it his best go.
“Dr. Cummings, your ten o’clock is here,” Melissa’s far too loud voice echoed down the hall and into my ears while I busied myself with pulling fresh white paper onto the exam table.
“Okay,” he said at what I guessed was a normal volume.
“Load-y should be bringing her back to exam room six now.”
Jesus Christ. This bitch.
“Load-y?” he asked, confused. Justifiably motherfucking confused. No one on the planet should have a nickname based on a come shot.
Melissa sighed. “The nurse.”
Silence descended between them until she elaborated. “Your new nurse.”
“Are you talking about Melody?”
“Yeah. Load-y. That’s what she likes to go by.”
“She likes to go by Load-y?” I could literally hear the disbelief combined with amusement coloring his voice. If his tone had an actual color, I’d say it was aubergine—because what the fuck kind of color is that anyway?
“Yep. She loves it.”
Yeah, it was safe to say that Melissa was probably going to be my least favorite coworker in the office. She spent most of her time browsing BuzzFeed and watching YouTube makeup tutorials behind the reception desk. That, on its own, I could support. I was just as down to see what
my McDonald’s order said about my sex life as anyone else.
But she also had a penchant for attitude, laziness, and obviously, horrible nicknames. Load-y. Holy water in a wineglass, that was by far the worst name anyone had ever come up with. It made me sound like a washed-up old porn star who had taken one too many money shots, and I had a feeling that was her exact intent.
With both Marlene and Melissa at the helm, I was honestly starting to wonder how this office ran smoothly on a daily basis without any major issues or lawsuits. Quite frankly, it was a modern fucking miracle. I mean, try to fart and take a crap wasn’t the world’s best nursing advice.
As I set out the instruments for a pap smear, Will peeked his head in. “Are we all set, Load-y?” His grin was all I needed to see to know he was fucking with me.
I rolled my eyes and smirked. “Yeah. All set.”
“Interesting choice in nickname…”
“Oh, yeah. I love it. And it has absolutely nothing to do with Melissa trying to deliver a virtual tit punch,” I explained in sarcasm. “What can I say? I just love going by Load-y. It has a certain sophistication to it, don’t you think?”
He chuckled softly. Unlike listening to Marlene, I didn’t have any doubts that seeing Will’s smiling face and hearing his laughter were one of my favorite parts of my day.
The man had a great smile—knock you to your knees type of stuff.
And a sexy laugh. And a sexy body. And a—
Good Lord, my brain needed a filter.
“Oh, yeah. It’s amazing it’s still available for use. I heard the Queen was looking to trademark it,” he teased.
My cheeks pulled up as I smiled.
“I’m going to make a quick call in my office, and I’ll be ready in about five minutes.”
I nodded. “Sounds good.”
It had taken a good two weeks for us to get past the ridiculousness that was my first day on the job, and a good week and a half of that was achieved through semisuccessful avoidance.
But it finally felt like enough time had passed to let go of the embarrassment of his unsanitary offer of a gloved greeting and my unexpected peep show. Even the encounter in the supply closet had felt relatively normal in comparison. And we’d fallen into a good working relationship, with the added bonus of actually being able to make eye contact ever since.