“Maybe.”
When the charming half smile appeared on Jess’s lips, Alison switched to a safer topic. “How’s Beth?”
“Stir-crazy already. That doesn’t bode well for the next few weeks.” They turned a corner, heading toward Antepartum and slowed their pace as they talked. “But she’s probably the best patient we have. A lot of women get nervous about being pregnant. Throw in a high-risk situation and it’s a recipe for short tempers. Beth hasn’t snapped once. The nurses love her. Nancy in particular is very fond of her.”
“Beth isn’t the only one she’s fond of.”
The words were out of her mouth before she realized she was thinking them. Jess turned to her. “What do you mean?”
“I just meant…” She smiled to cover her embarrassment. “The staff here seems to like you very much. I get the impression they aren’t overly fond of some of the older doctors.”
“No, they aren’t.” Jess’s mouth tightened. “Some doctors don’t treat nurses well. I read an article once that said eighty percent of nurses have been yelled at by a doctor at least once in their career.”
“That has to be an exaggeration.”
“I wish it were. The real number is probably higher. Some nurses see bad treatment as part of the job.” Alison had to pick up her pace to keep up with Jess. “We’re under enormous stress as physicians, but that doesn’t give us the right to treat anyone poorly. Combine stress with the demographics of the two professions, and it leads to an inevitable result.”
“You mean that most doctors are men and most nurses are women?”
“Partly, but not all men are rude and not all women are meek. I mean that most doctors are from money and privilege. We tend to be type A personalities. People who are spoiled and used to getting their way.”
“Does that describe you?”
Jess shrugged. “My family certainly didn’t struggle when I was growing up, but we were blue collar.”
“I’m sorry. That was overly personal. I don’t know what’s gotten into me today.”
“Not at all! I’m proud of my parents’ work ethic.” She smiled at Alison. “I am a little spoiled though. You may have noticed that in my lack of enthusiasm about Richmond.”
“Lack of enthusiasm is rather mild.”
“I guess I’m just as loyal to my hometown as you are to yours.” She shrugged again, and her smile lent the gesture a flippancy that Alison appreciated. “Anyway, there was this nurse when I was coming up. She was one of the first medical professionals who accepted me as a doctor, and she always made a point of reminding me that we’re a team in hospitals. We depend on each other. None of us can do the other’s job. We’re equally important to the process of healing, even if some of us get reserved parking spaces. I took that with me.”
“She sounds like a very special person.”
They reached the nurses station, and Jess stopped. “She was. She still is. She’s retired now, but she never misses an opportunity to lecture me.”
Alison was intrigued. She pictured the weathered old face of her own mentor. Her advisor when she was in Boston who had taught her so much that she always left his office feeling as if she was carrying the weight of a library in her mind. She hadn’t spoken to him in over a year, not since attending a conference in Boston, but she could still remember the exact inflection he used when he said her name.
“You still talk to her? Even though you’ve moved across the country?”
“Well, she gets very upset if I don’t check in.” Jess leaned forward and whispered, “She’s my mother. Don’t tell anyone here. It would ruin my rebel without a cause reputation if they found out I call home twice a week.”
Alison smiled. Jess’s buoyant nature was infectious.
“Well if you’ll excuse me, Ms. Reynolds…Alison. I should be going.”
“Thank you for holding the elevator, Dr. Baker…Jess.”
Forgetting her determination not to admire Jess’s shoulders, Alison watched her disappear down the hall into the bowels of the hospital before continuing on her own way. She strolled toward Beth’s room, tracing the path that was fast becoming familiar with the happy anticipation that always came with a few uninterrupted hours of gossip with her best friend.
Chapter Twelve
Alison found fall in Richmond equal parts exhilarating and infuriating. Being both in the South and within barking distance of the ocean made the weather unpredictable. She’d endured Septembers that were as hot as the middle of summer, and some when a cold snap rushed in bringing that fresh chill of autumn before anyone could reasonably expect it. So when one of those cold snaps hit the next day, Alison walked out of her last class, holding the strap of her leather briefcase tight to her chest, wishing she’d had more sense than to wear this thin sweater. Wishing it could somehow thicken into something more substantial by sheer force of will.
As she opened the glass doors of the Hibbs Building and stepped out into the evening, a hint of sunlight fell on her shoulder and tried valiantly to warm her. Jennifer followed her through the door, continuing to discuss their last class.
“I would expect this kind of laziness from freshmen, but this is a four hundred level class. They’re history majors. They can’t possibly think that discussion was what you expect.”
Less than two months into the semester, her students were uninterested and lazy. One good discussion about Christine de Pizan aside, not one of her classes was fully engaged. Alison was a notoriously tough grader, and she worried that this class would fare even worse than her usual low standard. Unfortunately, she also knew it was entirely her fault. A classroom took its cues from the professor, and she was not focused on her classes. Good professors knew that a bad grade was as much their failure as the student’s. She had failed to inspire, failed to kindle that thirst for knowledge that had brought them into her classroom to start with. Alison was failing this class and she needed to shake herself out of her funk or risk losing them entirely.
Jennifer wasn’t exactly perceptive of her mood. While she railed on about the inadequacies of their students, Alison scanned the courtyard, hoping none of them were present to hear. Fortunately, it was early evening and most traffic was heading to the dining hall across the courtyard. There was, however, a familiar face nearby.
Jess leaned casually against a concrete half-wall a few feet away wearing a black hoodie and a mildly bored expression. She watched the swarms of undergrads around her, her hands buried in her pockets. Alison was used to feeling a flare of annoyance when she saw Jess, but today she had to admit that interest had replaced it. She couldn’t quite pinpoint when things had shifted, but apparently Beth was right, Jess had gotten under her skin. She just hadn’t expected that to be a good thing.
“Ali? Earth to Ali? Can you hear me?”
Jess spotted her. The boredom disappeared in an instant, replaced by a glowing smile. Alison’s stomach squirmed pleasantly as she smiled back.
“Isn’t that the woman you were talking to at Babe’s the other night? The one Courtney thought was so hot? My girl has good taste.”
She nodded in response to Jennifer’s question, then instantly forgot her existence, barely registering the knowing chuckle and retreating footsteps as she moved across the brick pavers toward the half-wall.
“Nice to see you again, Dr. Baker. What brings you to my side of campus tonight?”
Jess’s smile widened as Alison leaned against the cold stone. “Just as stubborn as your BFF, aren’t you?”
Jess waited, smiling but silent, until the penny finally dropped. “Sorry, nice to see you again Jess.”
“Much better. I was nearby and thought I might convince you to get a cup of coffee with me. I hear Lamplighter is good and it’s just around the corner.”
A warmth that was far more effective than the weak sunlight spread through Alison. “Are you asking me on a date?”
Color glowed across Jess’s smooth cheeks making her look years younger. “I’m from Portla
nd remember? Coffee is a religion for us. Well, beer too, but it’s a little early for drinking.”
She trailed off, looking around at the crowd. After Jess had challenged her on the name, Alison wasn’t going to let her off so easy. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Jess laughed throatily and dug her hands deeper into her pockets. “I thought my adorable awkwardness would be answer enough.”
“It isn’t.”
Jess rubbed her neck, her smile creating an irresistible twinkle in her eye. “Okay. You win. Yes, I’m asking you on a date.” Her hand stilled on her neck. She had rubbed it pink. “Are you accepting?”
“Of course.”
* * *
Alison suggested they sit outside. Lamplighter Roasting Company was a coffee shop wedged into a repurposed auto shop, complete with plexiglass garage doors and artfully stained concrete floors. The back patio was fenced in and surrounded by trees whose limbs were wrapped in white Christmas lights, making it a beautiful spot for a first date. Dusk settled around them, the lights twinkled like fairies. They sat in a secluded corner, the smell of roasting beans and steaming milk reaching them even out here.
As soon as they sat down with steaming lattes in front of them, Jess asked, “So you teach history right? What’s your specialty?”
Alison gripped the ceramic mug, trying to draw warmth from it. She had suggested the choice of table, but now the chill of nervousness had replaced the warm flush of anticipation. “Medieval European. I specialize in the history of women during the Late Middle Ages.”
Jess sipped her coffee, pondering. “Fascinating time period. There’s a lot to cover there.”
Alison was used to this type of vague reply. People rarely knew much about history, particularly the Middle Ages, but no one liked to admit it. Most people were intimidated by her intelligence, and often hostile to it. So many evenings had ended embarrassingly early when a date pretended to know more than they did, or told her she was wasting her time with a worthless subject. Occasionally, they would try to cover their ignorance by asking leading questions, hoping to sound knowledgeable when they really weren’t. It didn’t bother her if they didn’t know anything about her work, it was the subterfuge that bothered her. She was disappointed but not really surprised that Jess was one of the leading question types.
“It is fascinating, isn’t it? What are your favorite subjects in the Late Middle Ages?”
Jess set her coffee cup down, looking into the distance. “I’ll admit I’m no expert. Wasn’t the Avignon Papacy during the late Middle Ages? The little squabbles between popes are always fun. Or was that the High Middle Ages? It all kind of runs together for me when the church is involved. Then there’s the Hundred Years War and the Spanish Inquisition. Torture and battles. I’m partial to the Black Death.” She smiled at the way Alison’s eyebrow arched. “For obvious reasons.”
Alison shivered hard enough to nearly lose control of her voice. “Obvious reasons?”
Jess unzipped her hoodie and stood, walking around the table and dropping it over Alison’s trembling shoulders. She leaned down, the warmth of her body remarkably close, and said, “I’m a doctor after all.”
The cotton of the hoodie was soft and warm, with a light but musky perfume and the slightest hint of some citrus scent that made her eyebrow stay arched. “Of course.”
Jess laughed her throaty laugh, dropping back into her chair. She was wearing a thick, long sleeve knit shirt with a V-neck in a warm blue that set off her eyes in what she had to know was a devastating way. “You thought I wouldn’t know anything about medieval history.”
Alison slid her arms through the sleeves of the hoodie. It was maybe a size too big, but not too bulky. “Most people don’t.” She looked up at Jess meaningfully through her eyelashes. “Thank you, by the way. I should have worn a jacket.”
Jess sat rigidly for a moment and then waved her hand dismissively. She took a sip of coffee that was too large to be advisable, but managed not to choke on it.
Alison had been on a lot of dates recently, most of them dreadful. Beth kept telling her that she had to kiss a lot of frogs to find a princess and even more to find a prince, but the pool of interesting partners seemed to be dwindling. Dating in your thirties was supposed to be fun, but she found it depressing.
She’d joined an online dating service, but it was a lot of work sifting through the possibilities and that work never seemed to pay off. She pretended to pay only passing interest in the site but actually checked several times a day. After a string of awful dates she would shut it down, determined to let love find her. Then a few lonely weeks would go by and she would reactivate it, only to be disappointed again. The whole thing just made her feel empty. Overall, it had been a very long time since she had sat across from a stranger and felt like this. Like she already knew she wanted a second date.
As she pondered the upswing in her dating prospects, they chatted easily about history. Jess was not only somewhat knowledgeable on the subject, but, more importantly, interested to learn more. She made a hobby of taking open online courses on a wide range of topics from history to literature to science. The phenomenon of online courses for no credit was new to Alison, and Jess lit up at the chance to explain the pleasures of being an itinerant student. Time slipped past at a dizzying rate. When Jess asked if she’d like a refill she gladly accepted. She sat alone at the table, grinning up at the first stars poking through the city lights while Jess went inside to get their new cups.
“You a Mass Effect fan?”
Alison shifted her eyes from the sky to a see a man in his early twenties leaning on the back of the vacant chair.
“Beg pardon?”
He pointed a stubby finger at her chest. “Mass Effect.”
She just blinked in reply.
“Your hoodie. I just figured.”
She looked down in confusion at the black cotton. The logo on the chest was a white ‘N7’ with a red triangle situated right below one shoulder. A red stripe ran down the shoulder from collar to cuff, bracketed by a thinner white stripe on both sides. She hadn’t noticed the hoodie’s logo before, only the woman inside it.
“Sorry, it’s not mine.”
“It’s mine actually.” Jess came up behind him, setting their coffees on the table. “She was cold.”
“Oh. Cool.”
He looked like he was going to slink off, but Jess stopped him. “I’m a bit obsessed with Mass Effect, to be honest. All three games. The first one’s a little cheesy and the graphics are terrible compared to what you can get these days, but it’s still awesome.”
His grin came back and he shifted his full attention to Jess. “Totally. Do you Fem Shep?”
“Come on man, look at me! Of course! Give me a chance to play a badass soldier who saves the galaxy three times and you let me make her a woman if I want to? I’ve never once picked the guy.”
“That’s cool. I started out as the guy, but the voice acting for Fem Shep is too good. I played her once and was hooked. Now I’m Fem Shep all the way.”
“Very progressive of you. Way to go man. Are you Renegade or Paragon?”
“Renegade! I dig the scars. Plus it’s fun to say all the evil stuff you never would in real life. You?”
“Paragon.” After sliding Alison’s coffee to her with a wink, she continued, “I’m old fashioned. I like my heroes to be all nice and, well, heroic.”
They laughed together. Alison had no idea what they were talking about, but the whole thing was rather charming. She guessed the kid didn’t talk to women much. He seemed to be close to hyperventilating just having a conversation of this length.
Jess’s tone turned serious. “Who do you romance?”
“Liara of course! You?”
“Definitely Liara. Every time. True blue, all the way through.”
“Have you seen the trailer for the new one?”
“Oh, yeah. I can’t wait for it to come out. I check for the release date announcement every day
.”
“Me too!”
“I’m sure they’ll hate me at work for this, but I’m taking off at least a couple days to marathon play when it comes out.”
He held out his hand and they fist bumped. “Cool.” He shot a look at Alison, but she was sure this time he was checking out the hoodie instead of her. “I’ll let you get back to your coffee.”
Jess gave him a wave and dropped into her chair. She didn’t seem like she was going to offer an explanation, so Alison asked, “What was that about?”
“The hoodie is from a game series I play.” She sipped her coffee before continuing. “So I should probably tell you at this point that I’m a gamer. Another hobby. Or probably more accurately called an obsession.”
“What do you mean? You mean, like, you play video games?” Jess nodded and she continued, “Oh. That’s…surprising.”
“Why is that surprising?”
“I just thought you would be interested in things more…doctor-like.”
“Oh, yeah? Like I should sit at home every night in my smoking jacket with a pipe and a monocle, reading Gray’s Anatomy for fun?”
Alison’s cheeks were suddenly warm in the chill air. “Not exactly. But video games? I mean…”
Jess sat forward, her grin still good-natured, but slipping a fraction. “Please don’t say ‘aren’t you a little too old for that.’ You’ll sound like my mom.”
Alison shrugged, pretending she wasn’t about to say exactly that.
“I’m not the only one. Most gamers are older these days. We’re from the generation that made video games popular. We were raised on them, so it’s natural for us to still like them when we get older. It’s way more interactive than watching TV. It engages my mind and at the same time lets me relax. Why is that so bad?”
“I didn’t say it was bad, it’s just…It just seems kind of juvenile. Aren’t video games violent and disrespectful to women? You know, guys living in their parents’ basements with no job, playing online all day and night, calling their friends slurs and being all around unpleasant.”
Visiting Hours Page 8