Yours Truly, Cammie

by S. J. Sylvis

  Copyright © 2018 S.J. Sylvis

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This work is a piece of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published: S.J. Sylvis 2018

  sjsylvisbooks@gmail.com

  Cover Design: Cover It Designs

  Editing: Stephanie McFarlin, editS

  Formatting: Indie Formatting Services

  Proofreading: All Encompassing Books

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Epilogue Two

  Authors Note

  Acknowledgments

  About S.J. Sylvis

  For all the rule breakers out there

  One

  I’m going to kill JoJo. That’s all I could think about as I stared into a pair of oversized blue eyes. I normally find blue eyes attractive on a man, but I couldn’t focus, even a little bit, on the color of my date’s irises because of the way he was chewing his food. Picture this: a dinosaur gnawing on a piece of raw meat, with zero awareness that its food was flying everywhere. Even between chews, I could see his spit sailing across the table. I’m pretty sure this man has never eaten food in his life. He’s like those guys on Naked and Afraid when they haven’t eaten in several days; it could be a slimy slug, and they’d eat it up like it was nothing. Maybe this guy had been on Naked and Afraid at some point. I could see it. He definitely had a caveman aspect to him with that scraggly brown hair stuck to his oily forehead.

  “So,” he said, with food still in his mouth. I literally had to hold back a gag. “You a nurse? I bet you’re pretty…” he ripped off another big bite of the sirloin he was holding (with his bare hands!) and then gulped his beer so loudly that people started to look over at us. “I bet you’re pretty smart, then, huh?” Apparently not smart enough to stop going on blind dates that my best friend says are going to be “winners.”

  “Mmmh,” I mumbled, keeping my mouth tightly closed. “You know what, I’m going to go to the restroom. Excuse me.” By restroom, I meant the door to this fine establishment, because if I have to sit here and stare at this troglodyte any longer, I’m going to take a fork and poke out my eyeballs.

  I didn’t even care to wait for him to acknowledge what I’d said. I just got up, chair scraping along the maroon cement floor and walked quietly to the exit. The crisp, cool night air hit my face, causing strands of my wavy, blonde hair to whip around it, and I marched myself, wedges and all, to JoJo’s boutique.

  Everything is pretty close in our little historical town. It is basically walking distance to everything, except for the hospital, which I drive to several nights a week. I’m even more pissed off that this date was yet again, another dud, because I could be catching up on sleep in my comfy, queen-sized bed, but nope. Here I am huffing my way down the narrow street to JoJo’s boutique to hash out this ridiculous date she set me up on.

  The bells on the door jingled as soon as I pushed it open.

  “I’m going to kill you!” I yelled as soon as I was through the entrance. JoJo’s black hair was piled high on her head in a messy sort of way, and her dark eyes grew large at the sight of me all dressed up in my pretty emerald dress, red-faced and blazing with anger.

  She straightened up on her stool behind the glass counter and had the nerve to ask, “What? Why?” very, very innocently. I could kill her!

  “Why?!” I cried incredulously, throwing my hands up. “Have you freaking met the guy you set me up with? Where did you find him? In the wilderness somewhere? Living in a damn cave?!”

  I walked the next few feet towards her and heard a snickering from her computer. I leaned over the counter and saw that she was video chatting with her fiancé, Ryan.

  “I told you, babe,” he said, looking from me to JoJo. “I told you she wouldn’t be cool with Dustin.”

  “He told you? And yet, you still set me up with him? What? Does he know me better than you, now?” I narrowed my eyes at her because I could tell she was trying to hide a smile. She took her red-stained bottom lip in her mouth, biting it hard. I grinned. Just a little.

  “Well, you’ve boycotted the last two guys I set you up with, so I had to change some things around.”

  “That’s because the last two were Marines and I told you I wouldn’t date a Marine.”

  Her eyes softened and I felt my heart twinge a little, but I ignored the hell out of it.

  “No more. No more blind dates. I will find my own man…someday.” I almost scoffed at myself. I’m twenty-five years old, and I have had exactly one steady boyfriend my entire life. It’s not really my fault. With a father in the Marine Corps for twenty plus years and an older brother who didn’t approve of any guy I dated, the choices were slim picking.

  “Fine! I’ll stop…”

  I could tell she was fibbing by the way the sarcasm rolled off her tongue. I knew JoJo better than anyone, except maybe Ryan, and that’s only because they’ve been together forever.

  “Tell Cammie the good news, babe.”

  I moved around the counter and dragged the rainbow painted stool over to the computer to see Ryan better.

  “What good news?” I piped up, adjusting my dress under my legs.

  JoJo responded from beside me, “Well…Ryan’s coming home soon.”

  His bright smile took up the entire computer screen and a sense of happiness flooded my body, soon followed by an insane amount of jealousy and hot, searing pain.

  I faked it, though. I exclaimed, “That’s fantastic!” too loudly, and earned myself a sideways look from JoJo. She knew this would hit a tender part in my heart, but I just hoped she’d let it slide.

  “When?” I asked, looking at the desolate beige color of Ryan’s tent through the camera.

  “You know I can’t tell you when…exactly. But, soon.”

  I gave him a small grin and turned my head at JoJo’s phone lighting up on the counter. It flashed the name, “Dustin,” and she whipped her tiny frame towards me. I bit the inside of my cheek, only feeling a fraction of guilt at the fact that I had just left my date. I honestly didn’t think he would notice. I assumed he would just start making love to his steak or something absurd.

  “Why is Dustin calling me, Cammie?” JoJo inquired, with a dubious tone.

  “Uh…” I choked back my laugh when I saw a couple of teenage girls walk in. I leaned over and whispered after she was finished greeting them, “I may have left him there…without saying goodbye.”

  A barking laugh came from the computer and I ducked my head, shoulders shaking with laughter.

  “You’re so mean!”

  “No, you’re mean for setting me up with him! Your fault.”

  She snatched the phone
and silenced it. She texted something to Dustin and I assumed she told him I had a bad case of the runs or something, just to embarrass me. But, I hated to break it to her; nothing could humiliate me when it came to Dustin. Nothing. I probably could have belched at the dinner table and I wouldn’t have even felt a sliver of embarrassment.

  I soon stopped laughing and jumped off the stool to check out the new items JoJo had put out in her store. Plus, I wanted to give her and Ryan some more video-chatting time together. He’s been deployed for almost seven months, and I know how hard deployments are. People always say that with time things get easier, but I know for a fact that’s a blatant lie.

  I pattered around the store, listening to the creaky wooden floor boards bend and wiggle with my every step. JoJo was really great about putting unique things in her shop. It wasn’t like the rest of the stores lining the street. They were all lacking in style and, the owners filled their shelves with mundane, cliché things like twined friendship bracelets, knickknacks that said “New Bern, NC” on the side, and very unoriginal, pale pink and blue “New Bern” t-shirts. JoJo’s shop, though, was full of color and vibrancy. She had funky furniture, brightly colored abstract paintings from local artists, beautiful handmade jewelry, clothes, and lots more. It was by far the cutest little shop in town…by a land slide.

  After I heard JoJo and Ryan saying their goodbyes, I dropped the whimsical floral cardigan back in its place on the shelf and looked at myself in the vertical mirror hanging on the wall. I saw the reflection of the two teenage girls who had walked in earlier. They were perusing the clearance rack and giggling about some boy at their high school. A wave of nostalgia washed through me. Back in high school, things were so much less complicated. I wish I could go back. Actually, I wish I could rewind this whole day and talk myself out of going on the date with Dustin, as it felt more like a National Geographic experience than a date.

  Through the mirror my large, round hazel eyes were mourning my perfectly applied makeup that I’d spent an hour doing earlier. I shook my shoulder-length dark blonde hair in exasperation. I looked really good tonight. My glossy red lips made me look bold and sexy but paired with the pretty green dress, I still looked delicate and sweet. I stuck out my full bottom lip and pouted. So much for getting lucky tonight.

  As soon as I made it back over to JoJo, giving the teenage girls a small smile as I passed, I was blindsided by the way she was acting.

  “So…” JoJo said as she twirled her fingers together rapidly. That’s her nervous tick; it’s been that way since we were kids.

  “Why are you nervous?” I droned, looking at her out of the corner of my eye.

  “Because what I’m about to ask you is a big request, considering…” She didn’t have to finish the sentence. I knew exactly what she was getting at.

  “Just ask. What’s up?” My voice wavered a little, but I ignored it, just like I ignored most things.

  “Well, you know the guys are coming home soon…” I nodded, knowing she meant Ryan and the rest of the men and women in his platoon, most of whom I’m familiar with.

  “How would you feel about throwing a welcome back party at your house? I would do it at Ryan’s and my place, but the cops got called at the last party. We weren’t even that loud, but you know the walls at the apartment are as thin as freaking paper. Plus, I can’t really surprise him when he lives there. I wanted to do it a day or two after they got back, and I want to decorate and everything…”

  I put my hand up to stop her rambling. In the few seconds that she’d been talking, I felt a wide range of emotions: longing, envy, hurt…but then all that was replaced with relief. Relief that Ryan was coming home. Relief that our friends were coming home, unharmed. Relief that they were all still alive, because some weren’t that lucky.

  I sucked in a breath and shook out my shoulders.

  “Sure, JoJo.”

  She shrieked and leaped over to wrap her slender arms around my neck, thanking me over and over again.

  “You’re seriously the best friend that I could ever ask for. Thank you, Cammie!”

  I smiled warmly at her, again.

  “On one condition,” I piped up, and she stilled. “No more blind dates, JoJo!”

  She laughed and I thought for a moment.

  “…Unless it’s with Justin Timberlake.”

  She smiled. “You’ve got it, Sista.”

  Two

  “Cammie-Lou, you’re in the ER tonight.”

  My mouth gaped open so far that I half-expected a fly to swarm inside.

  “What?!” I yelled at Becky, the head ICU nurse.

  “I know, sorry, Sweets. Amanda flaked again. I’m about to fire her lazy ass.”

  I laughed. Becky was an open book, and she’d tell you how it was no matter how hard it was for you to hear. If she said something behind your back, you’d best believe she’d say it to your face, too.

  I stared at her greying, brown hair and round face while holding back an eye-roll. She was watching me with her eyebrows raised, waiting for my snarky reply, but I held it in. I just wasn’t in the mood tonight.

  “Fine,” I puffed, and she gave me her wicked grin.

  “That’s my girl. You’re my favorite; you know that, right?”

  “Well,” I said, placing my stethoscope around my neck. “You wouldn’t tell me that if it wasn’t true, so I guess I have to believe you.”

  “Damn straight. Now get going before Dr. Douche comes up here.”

  I laughed and made my way down to the first floor hoping I didn’t run into Dr. Douche—the biggest ass in the entire hospital.

  You would think that I couldn’t possibly be happy working in a hospital, surrounded by so much death, especially after the year I’ve had. But ironically enough, it was probably the only thing keeping me happy nowadays. It kept me occupied. Between working the night shift three times a week, sometimes more if they needed me, and then catching up on my sleep, I truly didn’t have a lot of time to sit around and mope.

  Plus, according to my father and every fucking person that had the balls to say something, “A year is too long to grieve.” It was bullshit. You couldn’t put a time limit on how long someone needed to grieve the death of someone they cared for. They’re their own person; everyone heals differently, and everyone grieves in their own time.

  Rounding the nurses station, I murmured, “Okay girlies. Whatcha got for me?”

  I wasn’t really a big fan of working in the ER. I typically worked in the ICU, where things were usually intense and extremely time-consuming. When I first started working here right out of college, I was stuck in the ER, and there’s a reason why I use the word “stuck.” Not many people like working the emergency room, especially at night and especially in the summer. People get drunk, and people get stupid. Plus, I enjoy having relationships with my patients, and you just can’t do that in the ER.

  “Hey!” A male voice yelled from under the desk. I stepped up on my tiptoes and saw one of the new male nurses sitting on his butt, sporting his navy-blue scrubs, with papers splayed out all around him on the tiled floor.

  My face scrunched up. “Sorry, I mean girlies and guy-ies…or man-ies…or…nevermind. What do we have tonight?”

  April, one of the older ER nurses, glanced down at the laptop sitting on the counter. I watched as her eyes squinted, and then she lit up like a lightbulb. “Well, take your pick. In room number one, we’ve got a little kid with a jelly bean stuck up his nose, and… a very frantic dad. Mom’s out for the weekend, so he’s freaking out.” She laughed. “Then, in room number two, we’ve got a possible concussion, although the guy is saying he’s fine.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Typical man.”

  “Hey! Again…” the male nurse said, but I chose to ignore him.

  “Then in room number three… we have a guy who cut himself during a little fishing trip. He’ll probably need stitches. He’s going to the restroom now, then he’ll be ready to go.”

  I let out a lon
g breath. Talk about boring. I hated nights like tonight. They were slow, and they dragged on for eons. If I was in the ICU, like normal, I could be keeping a watchful eye on Mr. Gibson—an elderly man who was hit head-on by a truck going over forty miles per hour. He had emergency surgery to fix a collapsed lung, plus a plethora of other injuries to take care of. He’s been touch-and-go for awhile, but when he’s “go”, he’s by far my favorite patient. (FYI, we’re not necessarily supposed to have a favorite, but we all secretly do.)

  “I want the little kid!” Kelly said, grabbing the purple file. “I love kids, and I can calm the dad down. After all, the same thing happened to Noah when he was around three. It’s no biggie.” Kelly fixed her bright blonde hair and adjusted her scrub top, all but skipping down to room number one.

  “Which one do you want?”

  I decided to go with the stitches man. After all, that was much more exciting and time-consuming than a possible concussion.

  I grabbed the correct file and started to walk down to room number three. Just as I was a few yards from the door, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the man entering his room from using the restroom.

  I sucked in a huge breath when I realized who it was. I muffled a squeak, causing Jackie, another one of the ER nurses, to glance over at me, but I didn’t have time to explain. Instead, I jumped through the door closest to me.

  “Oh my GOD! Why does this shit happen to me?” I cried out, resting my head against the back of the door that I had not so subtly slammed.

  “Why does what happen to you?” I heard a deep voice ask from behind me. Of course I would jump into a room with someone already inside…I stood up straight, embarrassed that I not only had burst into an OCCUPIED room, but I had also managed to talk to myself like a crazy person while there.