While I’m going to grab the chips from the drawer in our night table, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out and see an unfamiliar number on the screen. I hope it’s not one of those spam callers. I want to put on a call blocker, but after the things I see in the ER, I’d never block all unfamiliar numbers. You never know when tragedy is calling.
“Hello?” I say.
There’s a long pause on the other line. So long that I’m about hang up when I hear a male voice say, “Noah?”
“Uh, yeah.” I frown. “Who’s this?”
“Noah…” The man on the other line clears his throat loudly. “Noah, it’s your dad. Michael.”
For a moment, I’m too stunned to speak. I haven’t heard my father’s voice since I was ten years old. The asshole never even called on my birthdays.
“How did you get this number?” I say in a low, even voice.
“Gwen gave it to me,” he says. “I don’t know if she told you, but I had a—”
“Don’t ever call me again,” I interrupt him.
“Noah…”
“I mean it,” I growl into the phone. “I’m blocking your number. Don’t try to contact me. I don’t want to see you.”
With those words, I hang up the phone. My hands are shaking as I make good on my promise and block his number from my phone.
I can’t believe my mother gave that asshole my number. The worst part is how oddly familiar his voice was. It sounded different than I remember, but something about it… maybe it was the thick New York accent. Talking to him felt like being stabbed in the chest.
He looks like me. Or I look like him. Or at least, the way I look now is how he looked when he was my age in the photos I’ve seen. Spitting image. My mother always said he was too handsome for his own good, and she was right. From what I gathered, while she was home with me in our tiny Brooklyn apartment, he’d mess around with other women at every bar in the whole goddamn city. And he’d drink. I still remember him waking me up when he stumbled in at three in the morning, stinking of booze.
You might look like him, my mother would say, but you’re nothing like him. She used to say it even when I was really young and wanted to be just like my dad. She was right—I excelled in school whereas he barely made it through high school. I never cheated on a woman in my life while he was a serial womanizer. And even though I don’t have any kids of my own, I think I’ve been a really decent father-figure to Lily.
But I’m more like him than people know. On a night out, I only have one drink, but I’ve never told anyone before how much I often crave a second. That might not sound like a big deal, but it’s a slippery slope that I could easily slide down if I let myself. That’s why when I was in the hospital, at the height of agony from my injuries, I refused all oral pain meds. I knew if I went down that road, I’d get addicted in a heartbeat.
I couldn’t let myself be like him.
So that’s my father. He stuck me with his shitty genes, treated us all like crap, then took off. I have no desire to see or speak to him ever again.
“Noah?”
I jerk my head up. Bailey is standing at the door to our bedroom—I didn’t even hear her come in. She looks tired, but also really pretty. She’d put her hair in a bun this morning, and now it’s partially come out, falling in sexy waves around her face.
“You okay?” she asks me.
“Fine.” I’m not going to get into the stuff with my father. Not now.
“Lily is waiting for you to bring her two chips.” She tugs at the hairband holding her bun in place and it comes loose. “We’re going to have to get that ant farm soon, aren’t we? I’m going to have ants all over my home.”
“You know ant farms don’t come with a queen,” I remind her. “That means if they escape, they’ll just die off because they can’t reproduce.”
“Well, what if they find a new queen?”
“That can’t happen.”
“Says who?”
I push any remaining thoughts of my father from my head and focus on Bailey. “Would you rather have an ant-farm-free home or a child who can read?”
Bailey’s features relax into a smile. “She’s doing incredible, isn’t she? Her teacher wrote to me and told me how much her reading has improved.”
“See? I told you I could do it.”
She puts a hand on my shoulder, and I look up at her. One of the hardest things about being off my prosthetics is having to look up at everyone. I used to be tall. On my prosthetics, I still have at least some of that height, although I’m not quite as tall as I used to be. So to even the score, I pull her into my lap.
“You are amazing,” she breathes. “You know that?”
“I know.” My smile is genuine this time. “I can’t believe we’re getting married in a couple of months.”
She leans her head against my shoulder. “Dad says they’re free on July tenth. What do you think about doing it then?”
“July tenth…” My heart leaps in my chest. “You mean we’re setting a date?”
“Yes. We’re setting a date.”
July tenth. That will be the day I marry the love of my life.
It won’t end the way it did last time.
Chapter 27: Bailey
After my “coffee” with Theo, it’s more than a tiny bit awkward when I see him a few days later, when I’m picking Lily up at his apartment.
I had vowed to be nice. But then he opens the door for me and the stench of cigarettes immediately punches me in the face. “Theo,” I snap at him. “Were you smoking in here? You promised you wouldn’t smoke in front of Lily.”
Theo actually quit smoking a few years back, but sometimes will have a few with his buddies. That’s his business. But I don’t want him smoking around Lily. My mom got cancer without the aid of carcinogens floating through the air, so I’m not going to expose my child to that.
“I wasn’t.” He holds up his hands. He’s wearing a white T-shirt, and his bare arms look so scrawny and pale compared with Noah’s. “I had a friend over and he smoked one cigarette.”
“Well, it stinks.” I know I sound like a bitch, but Theo brings that out in me. How come he can never just do what I ask of him? I glance around Theo’s tiny studio. “Where’s Lily?”
To my horror, Lily rolls out from under the bed. What is she doing under his filthy bed? The smoke is bad enough, but I can’t even fathom how much dirt and dust there is under there. I want to scream at Theo for allowing such a thing, but there’s no point. He won’t listen.
“Let’s go,” I mutter.
“But wait!” Lily cries, as she brushes what appear to be cobwebs from her hair. “We have to get burgers and cupcakes!”
“What?”
Theo shoves his hands into the pockets of his baggy blue jeans. “There’s this restaurant that opened up down the block called Burgers and Cupcakes. I told her I’d take her there.”
“Well, you’ll have to go next time,” I tell Lily. “We’re leaving now.”
“Nooooo!!!!!!” Lily howls. “Daddy promised!”
I glare at Theo, who doesn’t even look embarrassed. “Did you promise her burgers and cupcakes?”
“Uh, sort of.” He shrugs. “What’s the big deal? We can go now.”
“Right. But I’m here now.”
A smile plays on his lips. “So come with us.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “I’m not coming to dinner with you.”
“Why not? Is Noah waiting for you?”
Noah is working now and will be gone till late, so he’s not waiting for us. I consider lying, but I hesitate a beat too long. “No.”
“So.” He pokes my arm with his finger. “Come with us. It’ll be fun.”
“Oh, will it?”
“Come on.” He rolls his eyes. “This is really how you want it to be? We can’t have a dinner together with our daughter without it being a big thing?”
“Burgers and cupcakes, Mommy!” Lily speaks up.
“You
don’t even like burgers,” I point out.
“I like cupcakes.”
“Come on,” Theo says again. “Just a quick burger and cupcake. What’s the big deal?”
I must be a bigger pushover than I thought, because I somehow find myself agreeing to this. As I said, Theo never gives up and Lily is just as bad. Between the two of them, I figured it was better to just go get the burger and cupcake and have it be done. Besides, I do like burgers and cupcakes.
Burgers and Cupcakes turns out to be a big, family-style restaurant, and before we even settle at our table, Lily’s ripped open her kids’ menu. It’s a maze of wordfinds, crossword puzzles, and… well, mazes. She immediately gets to work on one of the mazes, her tongue sticking slightly out of her mouth like she always does when she’s concentrating. Noah once pointed out to me that I do the exact same thing.
I wonder if Theo notices things like that about me.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” Theo comments as he opens up his menu that contains (I presume) mostly burgers and cupcakes.
“It’s fine,” I mumble.
He rubs at his bald scalp. I wonder if it’s itchy. “It’s like we’re a family again.”
“Except we’re not.”
“Yes, we are,” Lily speaks up. “We’re a mom…” She points to me. “A dad.” She points to Theo. “And a daughter.” She points to her own chest. “That’s a family.”
Theo winks at me. “Can’t argue with that.”
Oh, Lord. This was a huge mistake. I thought it was easier to give in, but now that I’m sitting here, I’m tempted to tell them I’ll go wait outside. I’m not enjoying this at all. I just wish it were Noah I was here with instead of Theo.
“Hey, Bailey,” Theo says. “What time should I show up for Lily’s dance recital?”
My mouth falls open. “Lily’s…”
He nods. “Yeah, isn’t it next weekend? That’s what Lily said. You got me a ticket, right?”
I have no idea what to say to that. Yes, Lily has a dance recital next weekend. She’s been taking tap and ballet all year, and then I had to sell a vital organ to pay for her costume. I got two tickets—one for me and one for Noah.
“I didn’t get you a ticket,” I say.
He frowns. “Well, how come?”
“Well, who knew you wanted to come!”
“Why wouldn’t I want to come?”
“Uh, I asked you if you wanted to come last year,” I remind him. “You said it sounded boring, and Lily wouldn’t even know you were there.”
“I did?”
“Yes!”
“Well,” he says thoughtfully, “I’m turning over a new leaf. I’d like to come.”
“Fine. So go to the dance school and get a ticket.”
He frowns. “It’s all the way across town. You’re there all the time—you can’t grab me a ticket?”
I grit my teeth. “The tickets are twenty dollars each.”
“I don’t have it on me, but I’ll pay you back. I promise.”
I give him a look. I’ve heard that before.
“Really.” He looks me in the eye. “I just want to see my daughter’s dance recital. Please, Bailey?”
I put down the menu. I’ve lost my appetite for both burgers and cupcakes. “You know,” I say, “Noah is going to be there.”
He clutches his chest. “Oh my God. I can’t possibly be in the same room as Noah. It’s not like I work with the guy or anything.”
I just stare at him.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “Noah and I are cool. It will be fine.”
If the two of them are “cool,” it’s only because Noah has no clue that Theo begged me to get back together with him. But what can I say? I can’t tell Theo he’s not allowed to go to his own daughter’s dance recital.
“Fine,” I grumble. “I’ll get you a ticket.”
This is going to be awful.
Chapter 28: Noah
I’ve made some bad decisions in my life.
Specializing in emergency medicine wasn’t one of them. With my medical issues, surgery would have been a difficult specialty to do. Even if I could have rigged up a way to do surgeries without being on my feet—I know some docs do—I saw myself becoming a liability during my residency. I didn’t have the endurance. But with EM, I get the adrenaline rush without the long hours. And the pay isn’t bad either.
One decision I always look back on was the decision to let them take my right leg. I will never know about that one. I had been in the hospital for months, in horrible pain, metal rods coursing through my leg, pumped up with antibiotics for infections that just kept coming. The surgeon came to me and told me if I had the amputation, it would all be over and I’d get to go home. And I’d be able to walk again.
If I knew—really knew—how challenging it is to walk on two above-knee prosthetics… well, I may have made a different decision. But I had no clue. I heard about the robotic legs, and I figured I’d be fine. And who knows—maybe I’d have been worse off if I kept the leg. Maybe it never would have healed right, like the doctor said, and I would have lived with even more pain than I’ve got now.
I still remember waking up after that second amputation, looking down at what was left of my legs, my right still swathed in white bandages, with a horrible, sick feeling that I’d made a big mistake.
I don’t know. I’ll never know. But it’s not a decision I can ever take back.
But I know with a hundred-percent certainty that it was a bad decision getting Theo Duncan a job in the ER.
It’s a slow night, so Theo is currently serenading the female staff. He brought his guitar with him, and he’s singing “Brown-Eyed Girl.” Admittedly, Theo has a decent voice. Had his luck gone a little differently, he might have made it as a rock star. He looks the part today, even in his scrubs, with his goatee and his cool bald head and his goddamn guitar.
Every woman in the whole room is gazing at him like they want to have his babies.
“He’s not nearly as great as he thinks he is.”
I turn my head in time to see Claire plop down into the chair next to me at the computers. I’m still in my wheelchair, but not for much longer. I’m getting my new sockets tomorrow, then I’m back on my feet. Thank God.
“After all,” she adds, “that wouldn’t be physically possible.”
“So you’re not one of his groupies?” I ask.
She laughs. “Do I look like a groupie?”
“No, but neither does Freda from custodial services. And look at her.”
I swear, the entire ER has come to a halt to watch Theo sing. If someone stumbled in with a bullet wound to their chest, nobody would even notice.
“He’s not my type,” Claire says.
“Yeah?” I give her a sideways glance. “What’s your type anyway? I can’t figure it out.”
“I know it when I see it, Doc.”
I was infatuated with Claire when I first started working here. For at least three or four months, I tried to avoid staring at her or flirting with her or fantasizing about her. She was so damn competent, and her tits looked so great in those scrubs. I had resisted sleeping with any nurses through all of residency—I didn’t want the complications—but I couldn’t resist Claire.
We did it here, in the hospital. In the physician on-call room. A quickie.
Then a few more quickies.
Then one day we were both finishing a shift at the same time, and I suggested we grab dinner together. All the color drained out of Claire’s face. Obviously, she wasn’t interested in anything more than a few quick fucks. Not with me, anyway. I don’t get involved with coworkers. I was more disappointed than I let on—Claire was the first woman I’d really liked in a long time—but I saw the wisdom in her decision. And now that I’ve got Bailey, I’m glad it happened the way it did. If I’d started dating Claire, it would have ended in either a rough breakup or else marriage.
“Telling them to hire your girlfriend’s ex-husband…” Claire shakes he
r head. “I have to question the wisdom there, Doc. I think you’re getting senile.”
“Just goes to show,” I mutter, unable to take my eyes off the crowd that’s formed to ogle Theo, “no good deed goes unpunished.”
“How was that a good deed?”
“I was trying to save him from being homeless,” I say. “So Lily doesn’t have to go visit him in a homeless shelter.”
“You saved him all right.”
I give her a look.
“Don’t worry, Doc.” She pats my bare forearm. “After he goes through all the nurses like toilet paper, the glam will wear off. Then they’ll move him down to Laundry or something like that.”
I like the idea of Theo being assigned to the Laundry Room. And I also like the idea of him hooking up with nurses, because that would mean he’s staying away from Bailey. It’s obvious he wants her back. Why wouldn’t he?
A few patients show up in triage, which means we all have to get back to work. All the ladies let out a collective groan when Theo puts away his guitar… but come on. This isn’t a goddamn concert in Central Park. It’s an Emergency Room!
Theo ought to be getting busy, but it comes as no particular surprise when he plops down in the seat next to me. I glance at him, knowing he must be here to talk to me since he has no use for the computers. I take a calming breath.
“This isn’t the time or place for you to be playing your guitar,” I say without taking my eyes off the computer screen. I’m allegedly reading the triage notes on my next patient, but I’m not really.
“Glad you enjoyed the show, Walsh.”
“I’m serious.” I grab my right wheel to swivel and face him. “It’s inappropriate.”
“The nurses loved it.”
“Claire thought it was inappropriate too.”
“You mean the charge nurse?” Theo arches an eyebrow. “The one who acts like she’s God?”
“She is God. At least, down here she is.”
Theo narrows his eyes at me for a moment. Then his face lights up. “Oh, I get it. You’re sleeping with her.”
My mouth falls open. “What?”
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