Fusion

by Diana Kane

  “Didn’t you two discuss this years ago?” Abby’s mind is a steel trap, she never forgets the details.

  “Yes. Several times. I’ve discussed it with anyone I’ve ever thought about being with seriously. I’ve never wanted kids, have never felt the urge. I’m certain that I do not have the proverbial biological clock that most women have. Apparently Elena’s has started ticking after being off for 34 years.” Frustrated, I run my hands through my hair knowing it is nearly impossible to mess it up.

  Abby takes a sip of her margarita and eyeballs me. I know she is trying to figure out what I’m holding back. “Is that the only issue?”

  “It is the biggest issue, the one that magnifies anything else so that it seems ten times worse than it is. I was hoping this was a temporary thing for her and that it would pass and we could get back to good. I’m not sure that it’s going to happen anymore.”

  We sip our drinks in silence as Abby looks at me. After all these years she knows that I am thinking and waits patiently for me to continue.

  “The warning signs are starting to show. I’m starting to notice other women more and more. At that conference a few months ago I met this doctor. She was magnetizing.” Although our encounter had been brief, thoughts of Catherine still permeated my mind occasionally.

  “Wait, how am I just hearing about this now? Did you…” I can see the shock register on Abby’s face, her brown eyes becoming huge.

  “No! No. Absolutely not. You know I’m not a cheater. Nothing happened. I had a brief conversation with her at one of the presentations and later that night I bumped into her while I was walking the shoreline. We walked and talked but she took off shortly after the conversation revealed that I’m gay. You know me, I struggle to maintain conversations with people I’m not fully comfortable with.” I can’t admit to Abby the attraction I felt for Catherine, or the thoughts I had about her lips.

  “That’s it? You are concerned about that?”

  “I’m not concerned about the interaction in itself, more about how her presence affected me. That odd I’ve met you before crossed with a heady dose of lust. I could have spent the entire night walking the beach with her.”

  “So just the one example then? Nothing to worry about.” Abby shrugs and takes another sip of her margarita.

  This is one instance where Abby and I will never agree. She doesn’t see it as an issue but I know it indicates a much larger problem. “Perhaps. Let’s not talk about this anymore. How are things? What is going on with you and that widower neighbor you told me about?”

  Abby, happy to talk about this, quickly kicks into gear. She is a dreamer, longing to find the man who will love her, yet trying to insulate her teenage daughter from any dating life she may have. She sadly has a pattern of trying to force square pegs into round holes when it comes to love. She meets a man who tells her what he is interested in, if it doesn’t fit what she is looking for she somehow chooses to ignore it and convinces herself that he will change his mind. This is a conversation we have had before, her trying to force the pegs, me pleading with her to step outside of the situation and examine it, her telling me she knows I am right but maybe this time. I feel for her. If anyone deserves to have that someone who will love them like they need to be, it is Abby.

  The waitress brings our meals and we order another round of drinks. I’m in no hurry to get home and Abby’s daughter is at a friend’s house. It is one of the rare occasions where we aren't rushed. I only realize that we have been here for hours when it hits me how empty the place has become.

  Catherine

  My first day on the new job. I am looking forward to moving on from the toxic work environment my divorce had created and getting a fresh start. Today will be split between clinic and the OR. No patients, just introductions to staff and finalizing the paperwork. The partners at the neurosurgery practice had kept my addition a secret from everyone but hospital administration while the buyout of an old partner was settled. Now it is finally time to put my feet on the ground and do what I do best.

  The clinic introductions take up the morning. I am able to meet our nurses and physician assistants as well as get situated in my new office. I like things kept tidy and clutter free, so moving in is simple. I rearrange the furniture to my liking, replace the existing art with my own and am finished. I am ready to move on to the OR where I prefer to be.

  The hospital business begins with finalizing my privileges to treat and operate, or as I think of it the paperwork portion. The least appealing aspect of my job is the paperwork, yet it is the most time consuming. I’m thankful everyday for the assistants and nurses who handle the vast majority of this for me. Once done there we break for lunch. The partners take me to a little diner a block away from the hospital. Though not food I typically eat, the fare is amazing and I know I will be back. I realize that I have done what I typically do when eating, I have inhaled my meal, a poor habit picked up from years of operating. In the OR you eat, drink, and use the restroom when you get the chance. You never know when the opportunity might open up again. The habit has sadly carried into all other areas of my life, an issue my new partners don’t seem to share. Initially I tried to learn to control it outside of work, but I never mastered the skill.

  It is finally time. Time to get into the OR, to meet my new nurses and techs, to smell the myriad of aromas you can only find in an OR. At first you find them repugnant but over time they start to remind you that you are where you belong. I’ve missed these smells.

  We are waiting for the fifth partner to finish his trauma craniotomy. Dr. Hoffman finally finishes and the room staff sees the patient out of the OR and up to the neuro intensive care unit. One staff member stays behind to clean up and prepare the room in the event another trauma comes down. She zips around the room, cleaning all the surfaces, putting equipment back in the proper location, mopping the floor, putting unused supplies away, making the bed, and replacing the trash and soiled linen liners. The partners finally stop her.

  “Alex we’d like you to meet,” but Alex cuts them off and beats them to the Catherine portion of the introduction as she removes her mask. I hadn’t recognized her. Alex? Her name is Alex? I could have sworn it was something else, but I’m terrible with names so it comes as no surprise that I am wrong.

  “You two know each other?” They look back and forth between Alex and I, waiting for one of us to answer. Alex isn’t carrying an expression that gives me any confidence that she can.

  “We met at a conference a few months ago. Two brief conversations is all.” The partners switch their view from me back to Alex.

  “Is that all it was? Just two brief conversations?” I really do not understand the need for the interrogation.

  Alex nods her agreement, her emerald green eyes fixed on me.

  “Well good then. Dr. Waters is going to begin operating here next week. We’ve spoken to management and they have agreed that you will be available to help facilitate the creation of her preference cards, instrument sets, and anything else she needs. Additionally, since you will be handling all of that we thought it best that you scrub all of her cases the first few months so that we can make you the resource tech for the other members of the team.”

  Alex again nods her consent, they really haven’t left her with any other choice. They take their leave, abandoning me with the woman who looks as if she still doesn’t know what just hit her.

  Alexis

  Blindsided…totally gobsmacked. What is Catherine doing here? The faint droning of the other doctors brings me back just in time to finish the introduction for them. A mistake, one I realize the I uttered her name. My sexuality is no secret at work. I’ve never had an issue with anyone about it, before now. It annoys me that the team I have dedicated myself to is questioning me about this. Would they have done so if it was one of my male counterparts? Probably, given what they just went through with their last partner. That doesn’t make it fully acceptable in my book, but does lend a sense of understanding t
o their actions.

  They leave and I find myself staring at Catherine again. So many questions are moving through my mind and that mesmerizing effect she has on me is in place again. I am tongue tied. Which question should I lead with first? Why is she here? Is my sexuality going to be an issue for her when we work together? Did she know about this at the conference? I am struggling to decide where to begin when Catherine shuts the OR doors.

  “I’m going to try to make this come out right this time, given that I believe I failed miserably that night on the beach. Do you remember our last conversation?” Do I remember? There hasn’t been a day since that evening on the beach that I haven’t thought about her plush lips, sultry voice and gorgeous sapphire eyes. Eyes that seem even bluer against the generic powder blue scrubs.

  “I do. Your reaction to my telling you that I’m gay was quite confusing.”

  “Yes I’m certain it was. I realized too late what my brevity had likely done. I looked for you at the conference the next day but couldn’t find you. I wanted to explain what I really meant and apologize for giving such a vague answer and then essentially running away. In hindsight I am sure that I gave you the impression that I have an issue with your sexuality, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. What I’m saying is that I’m more than comfortable working with and being around you.”

  “Well Catherine—,”

  “It is Dr. Waters here I’m afraid.”

  “Right, Dr. Waters. I can accept that and move on from it.” Catherine smiles at my answer making me focus on her kissable lips once again.

  “Great. Should we begin?”

  *****

  It turns out that finding a place to work is going to take some effort. The conference room is closed for a meeting and the afternoon shift is taking up most of the break room for their lunches. I suggest that we could try to work in the dining area upstairs. Catherine indicates that she doesn’t mind where we work, so long as it is quiet. The dining area is never quiet. It is impossible to find a quiet space in a hospital, no matter the time of day. I had been lucky and found such a rare spot a few years ago. It is on the overflow floor, utilized only when inpatient counts are high and the extra bed space is needed. The floor has a little area with small tables set up along floor to ceiling windows that present a nice view of the city and take in lots of sunshine. I like to eat my meals there, enjoying the quiet and relative privacy it provides. I’ve never shared the space with any of my coworkers, could I disclose it to her? I think it over for a moment and decide it will be fine, that Catherine has full use of the doctors lounge and won’t have time to spend on the over flow floor anyway. My secret space will remain safe. Assuring her that I know a place, I grab a laptop and lead the way to the elevator.

  The elevator ride allows me to take more of Catherine in. I estimate she is in her early forties. She is taller than me, probably around 5’9”. She carries an air of self assurance, one I’ve seen many surgeons wear. I know it won’t be long before she is the topic of conversation among many of the men in the OR. I am lost in my observations when I realize Catherine is looking at me, a questioning look, her head tilted slightly. Shit, she has been speaking to me and I have no idea what she has said. I have no idea how I am going to focus while scrubbed in with her.

  “Sorry I was lost in my own head.” Such a lie. It wasn’t my head that I was lost in.

  Catherine chuckles, the smirk I remember from the conference back in place. “I was just wondering—,” The door chimes as we stop to let other passengers on, the crowd forcing Catherine and I closer together.

  “Hello darling,” chirps a voice that I would recognize anywhere. I look up and smile as Abby pulls me in for a hug.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Rounding and a quick consult before I head back to the clinic. What are you doing out of the basement? Finally running away?”

  “No I am working with our new neurosurgeon on her preference cards and stuff. Abby this is Dr. Waters, Dr. Waters this is Abby.” They shake hands and exchange pleasantries, Abby quickly returning her focus to me, clearly oblivious to the effects of the veritable goddess I’ve just introduced her to.

  “Time for dinner Friday night?”

  “Sure. I’ll stop by your room before I leave, if you guys are still working.”

  “Sounds great.” The elevator stops again and Abby takes her leave along with the other passengers, leaving Catherine and I alone again.

  “Your girlfriend?” Catherine’s question forces my attention back to her.

  “Abby? No. Just my good friend. I’ve known her for years. My partner is a professor at the university.”

  “I see. You two seem close.”

  “We are. Like I said, it has been years. You aren’t the only one to notice though. When we first started working together many people thought we were dating. It took a long time to put an end to that rumor. Now most people just refer to her as my work wife.”

  Catherine smiles and nods. Nothing more. Mercifully the elevator finally arrives at our destination. “This is nice! The view is gorgeous,” Catherine observes as we settle into our chosen table. “Where is everybody?”

  “This is an overflow floor, so it typically isn’t too busy. I like to eat my lunch up here. I can read or just take in the view. A little relaxation in the middle of the day.”

  “I can imagine. Not a lot of space here for a group meal though.”

  “No there isn’t. I come alone. I haven’t really told anyone where I go, I just make my way here.”

  “A secret? Well…” Catherine trails off, taking in the view. I allow her to enjoy it a little longer before suggesting we get started.

  *****

  I realize while changing at the end of my shift that I don’t want to go home. The thought depresses me. Home is a place that you are supposed to want to go, not a place you actively try to avoid. I know that avoiding it is exactly what I have been doing, working extra shifts, picking up extra call, volunteering to stay over, all so that I can avoid the issues at home. I sigh as I close my locker.

  “Everything ok?”

  I turn to see my friend Tara at her own locker. Tara and I went to tech school together and have been friends ever since. “Yeah everything is fine.”

  “I call bullshit. If everything was fine you’d say good. Things are always good with you. What is going on? You need to talk?”

  “No really, things are fine. All good. You just go home to your husband and make him pamper you. Let him make you dinner, rub your feet, whatever. You’re having the baby, he can least spoil you before he gets here.”

  Tara laughs. “We both know I won’t give him a choice on that front, I can’t cook.”

  Now it’s my turn to laugh, not only because I know that she can’t cook but because I also know her husband worships her. If anyone is treated like a queen by their husband it is Tara. “True enough. What is he making tonight?”

  “I have no idea, I just hope its ready when I get home. I’m starving!”

  “Well you get home and get off those feet. Have a nice night.”

  “You too. It’s cold out, do you want a ride home?”

  “No I’m good thank you. Honestly I don’t mind the walk, it helps me to unwind after the day here.” I have no idea why I don’t tell Tara. Aside from Abby I haven’t spoken to anyone about the issues at home. Tara would keep anything I tell her in confidence.

  “Ok, well I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Ten minutes later I arrive home to find that Elena isn’t here. Though I should feel curiosity about where she is, I only feel relief that she is gone. I head to the kitchen for a glass of water and find a note taped to the refrigerator: Spin class and dinner with Rachel—E. A little more relief sets in with the knowledge that Elena will be gone for a long while. I’m certain I will be in bed long before she and her sister call it a night. I head for the shower deciding to enjoy the peace and quiet with a movie and some popcorn.

  Twenty min
utes into the movie I realize that popcorn and a movie just aren’t the same when you’re alone. I shut the movie off and head to bed with my book. I should try to get some sleep tonight anyway. I have an aneurysm clipping in the morning, a case that can go to hell in a hand basket in a hurry.

  Catherine

  I wake in a state of panic, the sweat soaked sheet twisted around my body, the comforter kicked to the floor. The nightmare, always the same nightmare. Every surgeon has that case, the one that will haunt them forever. The nightmare comes at will, never changing, never anything I can do. It has been five years now, I am certain it will never fade. They rush the young girl into the ER. She is four. I know immediately there is little I can do, her pupils are blown, hemorrhaging from both ears, eyes and nose, face swollen and distorted, no response to any stimuli. Her mother in hysterics, having seen her child be struck by the car. I know there is nothing I can do to save her, but I have to try. I order an immediate OR. No time for a CT scan. I know how this will end before it begins, still I try. She survives for 26 minutes in the OR before coding, our battle lost.