Visiting Hours

by Tagan Shepard

  “How very stereotypical of them. Don’t they have phones in Florida?”

  Alison laughed into her coffee cup. Steam billowed into her eyes. “They do, but my family’s never been the two phone calls a week kind of people.”

  Jess’s forkful of cake hovered in front of her mouth. “You are. You come to see Beth almost every day.”

  For the first time all night, Alison begrudged the empty wineglass in front of her. Jess was on call, so drinking wasn’t an option. She had tried to convince Alison to order a glass, but it seemed like a chance to see how things would go without alcohol. She had to admit it was nice; but talking about her family was always easier with wine.

  “Beth’s more than family. Especially more than my family.”

  The waiter arrived with the check and Alison reached for her purse. Jess handed him her credit card without looking inside the folder.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m not the kind of person who splits the check on a date.”

  Alison bristled. “And if I am that kind of person?”

  “Then I sincerely hope this is the one and only way I disappoint you.” She nodded to the waiter and he left, smiling, with the card. “But I will have to disappoint you.”

  Jess pushed the remaining cake toward her. Eating the last bite felt like adequate revenge. “I suppose I can look at it as old-fashioned rather than condescending.”

  Jess’s eyes were all smoke and charm as she replied in a low voice, “Thank you for indulging me.”

  They lingered over coffee long enough for the staff to congregate at the bar. When they stepped out into the night, the warm ambience seemed to follow them. Alison’s long skirt caught in the breeze and flapped behind her but the sound was lost in her laughter. Her scoop neck shirt pulled tight against her skin and she used the cold as an excuse to move closer to Jess. Their hands touched and Jess twined their fingers together. Warmth coursed through Alison starting at the spot their skin touched. Their eyes met for a moment, but veered away just as quickly.

  They turned the busy corner past the Tobacco Company Restaurant, heading toward the garage where they both parked. Alison was as happy as if she had drunk a whole bottle of wine herself but thankfully sober enough to enjoy every moment. Her head buzzed with the sound of Jess’s voice. Her eyes wandered to the slope of Jess’s shoulder next to hers. She decided she’d been right all along. There was definitely something in the set of them that refused to be ignored.

  Jess was finishing the story that had kept them laughing all the way down the street. “So here I am, delivering this baby in a packed ER. Mom’s screaming, dad’s fainted and I’m in up to my elbows, trying to get this baby out.”

  “Wait, the father fainted?”

  Jess let go of her hand to make a motion like an umpire calling a runner safe. Alison slid her hand up Jess’s arm and held just above her elbow.

  “Fainted. Clean out on the floor. It happens all the time in movies, but never in real life. My nurse had to go help him, leaving me basically alone for the delivery. He nearly pulled his wife’s IV out on his way down. But the best part was that, right about this time, an ambulance shows up.

  “The ER there was this whole open concept thing. One massive circular room with the nurses station in the center and all the rooms around it like a clock with a room at every hour mark. They wheel in this elderly patient who’d decided to do a little self-medicating for her arthritis.”

  “Self-medicating?”

  “Jack Daniels. The whole bottle by the smell of her. She’s screaming at the top of her lungs. Cussing like a sailor and fighting the EMTs. I’m delivering this baby at three o’clock and they wheel her into four o’clock. We could hear every filthy name she called the staff.”

  Alison giggled and leaned against Jess’s arm.

  “So I got the baby out. Perfect little boy. Easy delivery in the end. I left the room just as the arthritis patient slipped out of her restraints. They got her in a gown, but she tore it off as she ran down the hall. She’s still wearing her fuzzy slippers and now the only other thing she’s got on is a pair of underpants that look like she got them during the Eisenhower administration.”

  “You’re so making this up!”

  “I am not. I swear! All of this totally happened.”

  Alison leaned against Jess, gripping her arm and pressing their hips together. Jess looked at the hand wrapped around her arm and her smile slipped a little.

  “Um…anyway. Right. Drunk old lady. She barrels me over and I hold on for dear life, knowing there’ll be a nurse tech along any minute to help. So there I am, rolling around on the floor trying to hold on to a half-naked woman twice my age fighting me like she’s possessed. She landed a nasty right hook smack on my jaw before they finally get a sedative into her. And let me tell you, that thing about seeing stars? Absolutely real.”

  “She punched you?”

  They had reached Alison’s car.

  “My jaw still clicks.” Jess gave the vehicle a sour look. “Then she said the ‘tattooed biker chick’ tried to assault her. Made up this whole story. Said I grabbed her and threw her to the ground and nearly broke her hip. Wanted to sue the hospital. Once she was sober, they showed her surveillance video of her antics and she went away quietly. Sent me a lovely apology letter. On pink stationery with her name embossed at the top no less.”

  Alison took a hesitant step toward her car, pulling the keys from her purse as slowly as she could. “Does that happen a lot? Patients acting like that about the way you look?”

  Jess shrugged, pushing her hands deep into her pockets. “You mean like you did?” She winked. “All the time. They leave me alone when I start to treat them and they find out I know what I’m doing. I’ve learned to ignore it.”

  “Why, though?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why learn to ignore it? Why keep it all? The hair and the tattoos and all. Doesn’t it make it harder to get people to respect you as a doctor? Why not…I don’t know…”

  “Change?”

  “Yeah…maybe.”

  “I’m a square peg, Ali.” She smiled her crooked smile, continuing in a low voice, “And I’m not the sort to let a round hole change me.”

  Alison considered the statement, pushing it around in her mind as she twisted the keys in her fingers. Jess looked into her eyes with an expression so achingly open that it took several long moments for her to realize she was holding her breath. The moment stretched between them like pulled sugar, twisting and reshaping itself in the cool of the evening.

  Alison moved forward just far enough to be noticeable, and Jess leaned toward her. Her eyes burned into Alison’s. The harsh fluorescent light of the building and the smell of drying motor oil faded away as her world narrowed. The sound of cars on the street drifted to silence and all she could hear was the pounding of blood in her ears. Alison closed her eyes.

  She hadn’t realized the softness of her own lips until they met Jess’s. Now the brush of Jess’s mouth against hers heightened all of her senses. She felt the heat of the air in her lungs and the tingle of every nerve-ending in her skin. This was by no means her first kiss, but it was the first in a long time that took her breath away. She focused on the feel of Jess’s mouth against her own and fought to capture that feeling. She wanted to hold on to it, preserve it, tuck it away like a memory frozen in amber.

  All too soon, Jess pulled back. Alison’s body followed for a moment before she could force herself to be still. She opened her eyes and saw Jess’s lids flutter open. Her eyes echoed the same shock Alison felt. A wave of longing crashed over her. She wanted to push back into that moment. She wanted to force their lips back together and feel it all over again. Her mind spun with the need, and for one long moment, she thought the dizziness would overwhelm her.

  Jess’s lips parted with agonizing slowness. Her voice was a ragged whisper when she said, “Goodnight, Ali.”

  Alison was as surprised as she was pleased to
hear her voice was steady when she replied, “Goodnight, Jess.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  i had a great time last night

  Me too. Thank you for dinner.

  you’re great company when can i see you again

  I’ll be at the hospital tomorrow. Will you be working?

  yes but i meant alone a date

  I know what you meant. I was being coy.

  you had me worried for a minute ;)

  Don’t worry. I would love to go out with you again.

  free for coffee tonight?

  You really have a thing for coffee.

  portland

  so are you free?

  Sorry I’m swamped with work tonight. I have a date with a stack of essays about Christine de Pizan.

  you know what would help with that? coffee

  Lol! It would, but I won’t be leaving my office for hours. I have a Keurig.

  im going to pretend you didnt say that

  It’s not that bad. Okay it is. I shouldn’t even be calling it coffee, much less drinking it, but my options are limited.

  A knock at the door distracted Alison from her text message conversation. She really should have been working, but talking to Jess was too tempting. A visitor would keep her from both working and texting. She scowled and checked her watch. Her office hours had ended quite a while ago. She should reasonably expect no interruptions, but the knock came again anyway. She stood up with a sigh and a glance at the stack of essays. If she could get rid of her unwelcome guest quickly, she could spare a few more minutes talking to Jess before she really had to buckle down and get to grading.

  Given the hour, she expected a colleague so she swapped the happy grin for something more blandly professional. Since she couldn’t get the image of Jess’s half smile and the feel of her lips out of her head it was a monumental task.

  She lost the battle for professionalism the minute she saw her visitor. “Jess! What are you doing here?”

  Her hair was a bit more limp than normal and she was wearing the powder-blue scrubs again. There were shadows under her eyes, but her smile was as bright as ever. She held two large paper coffee cups.

  She offered Alison a cup and said, “I was in the neighborhood.”

  Alison raised an eyebrow. “You live and work on the other side of the city, but you were in the neighborhood? And you just happen to have two coffees?”

  Jess shrugged. “I get around.”

  Alison took the cup, her fingers lingering on Jess’s. “I see you’re still not good at talking to women. Here’s a tip, don’t tell the woman you’re dating that you ‘get around.’”

  “So we are dating. Good to know.”

  Alison rolled her eyes and stood back, making way for Jess. As she passed, Alison caught a mix of fabric softener and lemon and that same musky perfume that had been on her hoodie. It made her want to lean in, bury her face in Jess’s neck and breathe in every molecule of air around her.

  Jess walked to one of the worn wooden chairs in front of the desk and collapsed into it. She peeled the lid off her coffee cup and drank deeply despite the steam rising from it. Alison decided not to return to her own chair. Putting the massive structure of her desk between them held no appeal, so she sat on the top of it, her feet dangling just off the floor. When she turned toward Jess her knee brushed against the loose fabric of her scrubs.

  “Long day?” she ventured as she sipped her coffee.

  “Very long.” Jess put her fingertips to her temple. “A set of twins who were both breech and a mom with preeclampsia. Everybody’s whole and healthy, though, so it was a good day.”

  The coffee was rich and hot and warmed Alison almost as much as Jess’s presence. “You know I don’t know what any of that means right?”

  “Of course. Payback.” She knocked her knee playfully against Alison’s. “I had to Google Christine de Pizan while carrying two coffees and breaking into a university building after hours.”

  “What did you find out?”

  “French writer. Sort of snarky. Had this crazy notion that women are good for more than just making babies and swooning. Wikipedia basics.”

  “That’s really all you need to know. I should have you grade my essays.”

  “If it would free up your time, I’m game.”

  Alison put her half-filled cup down on the desk, pressing her palms into the surface. She could feel the grain of the wood across her skin. “I’m glad you did. Break in with coffee, I mean.”

  Their eyes met and held one another’s for a long minute. Just as the tension rose to a palpable level, Jess said, “Me too.”

  That feeling was coming back to Alison. Of being picked up and swept off her feet. She reveled in the happiness of it. The swoop of her stomach and the tingle of anticipation were intoxicating, but she had passed the age when losing control was completely fun. Now there was a dread born from the scars of past relationships and the tears of lonely nights mixed in with the joy. Her heart told her this could turn into something profound if she let it. Wisdom told her to be wary.

  Something of her doubt must have shown because Jess cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter, moving her body too far away for contact. “So…um…don’t you have TAs to do all of this grading for you?”

  The happy bubble had burst, and Alison pulled back into herself. “I try not to give them everything. I had this one professor, when I was studying in England, who never read a word I wrote. I could tell. But he was consistently critical of all of my ideas. My research was never detailed enough. My conclusions were always recycled. My writing was stiff. Nothing I did was good enough. It was infuriating. How could he know when he never read my papers? I decided I would never do that to my students. If I’m going to give them constructive criticism I have to form my opinions based on their work.”

  “Where did you study in England?”

  Alison hesitated, but couldn’t see a way out of answering. “Oxford.”

  Jess’s coffee cup paused on the way to her mouth. She blinked several times. “Oxford. As in the Oxford?”

  Alison grinned sheepishly. “The one and only.”

  “That’s impressive.” Her cup finally completed its journey to her mouth. “Next you’re going to tell me you were a Rhodes Scholar.”

  Silence hung in the room and Alison became very interested in the pattern of cracks in the fake leather backing of Jess’s chair.

  After a long moment, Jess nearly shouted, “You were a Rhodes Scholar?”

  Alison nodded and shrugged.

  “Oh man, I am so outta my league.”

  “Stop it. I don’t really talk about it much. I was turned down when I applied the first time, but they took me after I got my masters at…well…”

  Alison nodded toward the wall behind her. Her Master of Arts degree from Harvard nestled between Bachelor of Arts from University of Richmond and her Doctor of Philosophy from Oxford.

  Jess’s eyes widened as she read the names. She laughed and sat back in her chair. “Harvard? Well, Dr. Reynolds, I am duly impressed.”

  “Ugh! Don’t call me that! I hate it.”

  “Why? You earned it. I can’t imagine Oxford hands those things out to just any pretty face.”

  Alison’s blush deepened, but something in the look Jess gave her made her embarrassment ebb away. “It just feels weird, that’s all. I notice you don’t like to be called doctor either.”

  “No. I don’t. I thought I would like the way it felt. The acknowledgment of my work, but it doesn’t fit me.”

  “Exactly. I just sort of still feel like I’m nineteen years old, dreaming about what I’m going to do with my life. Like all of this is just make believe. One day it’ll all click and I’ll be a grown up. Right now, it feels like the department chair is going to walk into this office any day and scream at me to stop messing around and get back to my dorm. I’m not old enough to have a doctorate. I’m not old enough to be shaping young minds. I should be wearing midriff shirts a
nd trying to pass a fake ID!”

  “And then go home to play video games?” Jess smiled into her coffee cup. “Believe me, I know exactly what you mean. Something about our generation, maybe. Or maybe everyone feels this way and they don’t admit it. We’re just kids, we shouldn’t have this much responsibility.”

  Alison bobbed her head in agreement. Her eyes flicked back to the essays on her desk. “Speaking of which…”

  “Of course. I’m sorry. I’ve been keeping you from your work.”

  “I’m glad you did. I really like spending time with you.”

  “I really like spending time with you too.” Jess’s eyes danced as she took a step closer. “More than anyone in a long time.”

  Alison’s heart beat a heavy rhythm against her ribs. “I have a lot of work stuff this week, so I’m not sure when I can see you again.”

  “It’s okay. I actually have a night shift rotation this weekend, so I won’t be available either.”

  “Night shift? Aren’t you too important for that?”

  “I wish.”

  “I really will be going by the hospital tomorrow. Maybe we’ll see each other?”

  Jess took another step, her thigh brushing against the inside of Alison’s knee. “It’s a date.”

  Alison realized with a lurch that Jess was going to pass right by her. Her hand shot out and grabbed Jess’s wrist. She stopped instantly, clearly waiting for Alison to make a move. If Jess needed her to take the lead, that was fine by her. Her body hummed with the need for contact.

  She drew Jess’s hand to her waist and slid her own up her arms. Jess’s muscles weren’t chiseled, but defined and just soft enough. She laced her fingers behind Jess’s neck.

  “You weren’t going to leave without saying good-bye, were you?”

  Jess dipped her face down, bringing their lips within inches of each other. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Alison tilted her chin up and their lips met. She assumed their second kiss wouldn’t be as overwhelming as the first. Surely the newness had caused the intensity last night. She was so very wrong. She felt light-headed all over again the instant their lips met. Her senses swam and desire coursed through her like a second heartbeat. The giddiness lingered even as time ticked by. She felt the gentle swipe of Jess’s tongue on her lips and they flew apart.