by Rose Marini
Emma and Sarah were almost as different as their mothers had been. Emma was more easygoing and sweet-natured, while Sarah was direct and structured. They balanced each other well, though. Sarah encouraged Emma to stand up for what she wanted, and Emma reminded Sarah to breathe every so often. Emma was already dreading the day Sarah would move in with her fiancé in six months, even though Sarah pragmatically reminded her that she would only be a ten-minute drive away.
Claws dug into Emma's slacks and she was jolted back to the present. "Louie!" She explained, "You are not allowed to ruin yet another pair of my pants!"
"I told him to do it," Sarah replied mischievously. "That's what you get for not answering my question. Come on, spill!"
"I don't have a crush, okay? I just have a meeting after work and won't be able to change before I go out to dinner. One of my old friends from college started residency here yesterday so I'm taking her out."
Sarah observed her, eyes narrowed. Emma hated when she did the try-to-see-inside-your-head thing. Still, it was hard to keep the grin off her face at the thought of seeing Ally in a few hours.
"Oh my god, you like her!"
"I do not! I'm not a lesbian, you know that. Can't I just be excited to see an old friend?" Emma responded defensively.
Sarah saw a flash of fear override the anger in Emma's face and knew better than to push the issue. "Of course you can. But you know I'd still love you regardless, right? I don't care who you like; I just want you to be happy."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Well, thank you, but I'm not into girls so it doesn't matter."
She left the house annoyed, her good mood dampened by Sarah's pestering. She loved Sarah to pieces but her friend could be a bit dramatic at times. What a ridiculous idea, that she had a crush on Ally! She shook off the thought as she slid into the car. Her excitement was normal for seeing an old friend again. Clearly, Sarah was in one of her ridiculous moods, where she fretted that Emma would be single forever and begged her to just date someone.
* * *
Emma thought all the clocks in the hospital must be broken, the day passed so slowly. The typically detail-oriented woman performed her duties so inattentively that she received more than one concerned look from the nurses on shift. For Allison, however, the hours passed in a haze of anxiety. Between Allison’s nerves about starting the first day of responsibilities and constant watchfulness for a certain familiar blonde, she felt like a walking ball of tension. Perhaps noticing her nerves, or remembering the stress of the first day, Carlos, the fourth-year resident she was working with, let her simply observe for much of the day, only occasionally asking her to help with basic tasks. Luckily for Allison’s concentration she only glimpsed Emma once, across the hospital cafeteria. She ignored the familiar jolt that tore through her stomach at the sight. She was so overwhelmed by the work she had to do by the end of the day that she considered canceling dinner with Emma to study instead. She justified the excursion to herself by thinking about the undoubtedly valuable advice Emma would pass along during their meal. It would be a working dinner. And she would make it quick, giving herself several hours to study afterward.
As Allison walked out of her last patient’s room for the day, she was greeted by the sight of Emma leaning on the counter of the nursing station nearby, chatting animatedly with Carlos. Allison drank in the sight of Emma’s curves hungrily, admiring the way her slacks stretched across her round ass. As if she sensed Allison’s lingering eyes, Emma turned and flashed her a brilliant smile that sent heatwaves through Allison’s veins.
“Carlos was just telling me that he’ll finish up charting so you and I can get to our dinner reservations,” Emma announced.
Taking a breath to calm her racing heart, Allison turned to Carlos. “Are you sure? I can stay, it’s not a problem. I don’t want to shirk my duties on my first day.”
Carlos waved her off. “Trust me, you’ll do more charting in the next four years than you ever thought possible. Go have some fun—you did great today.”
A bit of tension left Allison’s shoulders at his words. At least she hadn’t screwed up on her first day! Seeing that she was about to protest again—charting was typically the job of the intern—Emma grabbed her arm and towed her down the hallway.
“Come on, I’m starving! And Carlos tells me that you’ve earned a glass of wine for your work today. He even said that your suggestions for potential diagnoses and recommended tests were excellent.”
Resigned, Allison called her thanks to a laughing Carlos, thrilled by his compliment. As bad as she felt leaving the charting for him, she was secretly electrified by the feeling of Emma’s soft hand on her skin. They parted ways towards their respective cars, agreeing to meet at the restaurant a few minutes later. Allison drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as she drove, her stomach a curious mix of elation, desire, and raw panic. She wondered if Emma was feeling the same way, then chided herself. Of course she wouldn’t be nervous. She hadn’t been the one with a ridiculous crush and hidden secret. Allison was so tense that she briefly toyed with the idea of texting Devon to get out of dinner. Rolling her eyes at her anxious brain, she parked, clenched her jaw, reapplied her lipstick, and stepped out of the car before she lost her nerve.
Allison was wrong in that Emma was indeed nervous, though she chalked it up to excitement. She ignored the image of Ally’s deep brown eyes and flushed cheeks that kept masking the road in front of her. She had always loved Ally’s eyes, as unsettling as they could be sometimes. Slightly narrowed, they had a way of looking into Emma’s soul, as if they were trying to read the thoughts passing behind her eyes. Emma doubted that there was anything that escaped her observant gaze. Ally was simply one of those people who was hyper-aware of everything and everyone around her; she also had a gift for reading the dynamics of a situation with a glance. As odd as it sounded, Emma had always felt safer with Ally nearby; she was intuitively able to recognize and diffuse tense situations. She returned to her consideration of Ally’s eyes. Though they were piercing, a kindness lay behind them that drew Emma like a moth to a flame. That compassion, coupled with her observational skills and fierce intelligence, would make her quite the ER physician, of that Emma was sure.
Startled, Emma realized that she had already reached the restaurant, a small Italian joint set at the end of a small strip mall. Several minutes later, the two women settled into a cozy corner booth to peruse a wine list. The small part of Allison’s brain that wasn’t overwhelmed by Emma’s close presence was amused by the many candles littered around the restaurant, recalling Ben’s comment about romance from the night before.
“It’s my treat, so order whatever you want,” Emma told Allison.
“Oh no Em, I can’t let you do that,” Allison responded, not noticing that she had slipped back into using Emma’s old nickname.
“Hush, just consider it my welcome gift. You can get the tab next time if that makes you feel better.”
Excitement rippled across Allison’s skin at Emma’s words—she was already assuming there would be a next time! Recognizing the stubborn set of Emma’s mouth, she acquiesced. Once Emma had made up her mind, she was impossible to dissuade. The trouble was getting her to make up her mind in the first place, as evidenced by her indecision regarding the wine selection. Finally, the two decided to share a bottle of French Malbec. After it arrived, Emma raised her glass for a toast. Sapphire eyes sought amber; their gaze held. The sounds of the restaurant faded as Allison stopped breathing. Emma fell into those beautiful brown eyes just as she had so many years ago. The waiter’s arrival at their table broke the silence. Allison reddened as she stumbled through her order; Emma wiped her sweaty palms on her pants under the table.
Sipping their wine, the women relaxed as they discussed the current endeavors of their mutual college friends. Allison quickly had Emma giggling at her story of her last reunion with college friends involving a broken-down car and very curious raccoon. They barely noticed as the waiter set down large p
lates of pasta—lasagna for Allison and chicken pesto for Emma. The rest of the meal passed enjoyably as they discussed their families, pets, and residency. Several times Allison found Emma’s eyes on hers; she glanced away quickly, worried that Emma would think she was staring. Panicking, she wondered, how much eye contact is normal for friends? Am I looking at her too much? Do my straight friends look at me the way she looks at me? Why have I never paid this much attention to eye contact before? They should have a class on this shit, she wailed internally.
Pulling herself together, Allison, referring to Emma’s three years of residency, asked, “So, what have the hardest parts been?”
Emma ran her fingers around the base of her wineglass as a slight furrow appeared between her brows. Slowly, she responded, “Some of the older physicians can be mean, and one of them was… uncomfortably familiar with the female residents. It wasn’t anything too bad, just comments containing heavy innuendo and occasional questionable touching, but it certainly made for an uncomfortable shift whenever he was around. He retired after my second year, thankfully. But yeah, some of the docs can be pretty rude and demeaning. You develop a thick skin after a while, but the first few times I was yelled at I ended up in tears.”
“Did you report him? The guy who was inappropriate?”
“No, it really wasn’t that big of a deal, and I didn’t want to jeopardize my position here… You know how it is. Senior doctors are basically gods in a hospital.”
“That sounds like sexual harassment, though, and that’s illegal!” cried Allison, incensed. “And some of the doctors made you cry? That’s not acceptable!”
“Well, it’s just because it’s a high-stress situation, you know. Everyone’s tempers run short at times, especially working in the ER. The really frustrating part is that they’re so much less critical of the male residents, at least from what I’ve heard. Anyway, I never said anything because I didn’t want to rock the boat, I guess,” Emma responded.
Allison remembered a similar situation in college, when Emma had refused to even approach her professor to ask about a grade that Allison was certain had been entered incorrectly. The older woman had always been averse to confrontation, even at her own expense. Allison never had that problem; if anything, she was too outspoken. A wry grin crossed her lips at the thought.
“What?” Emma asked, confused.
“Well, I was just thinking that we’re quite the pair. You avoid any negative conversations while I’m much too quick to speak up, even when I don’t know the full situation. I believe my parents’ not-so-flattering term for it is ‘impetuous and obstinate’.”
Emma laughed, commenting, “Ah yes, I clearly remember you marching into Professor Ortega’s office, declaring that she had marked my paper grade incorrectly. She was about ready to kick your ass!”
“I was right in the end though, wasn’t I? And you got the correct grade entered, did you not? Without my intervention you would’ve ended up with a full letter grade lower!” Allison retorted.
Emma’s laughter quieted. “That’s true, and I wouldn’t have received summa cum laude without you. You were always braver than me.”
“And you were always more patient than I was,” Allison responded, smiling at her friend across the table. She had forgotten how well Emma had known her—not just facts like her sister’s name, but her dreams and personality traits. She had taken the time to really get to know Allison, inside and out. Powerful emotions swept through her chest; her heart raced. The silence stretched as the two gazed at each other. Once again, the waiter interrupted, asking if they would like dessert. A distant voice reminded Allison that she should head home to study, but the bright blue eyes across the table anchored her to the chair. Her treacherous head nodded before she could think better of it and the man left to fetch menus.
“I seem to recall that dessert is your favorite part of a meal, so we shouldn’t skip it, right?” Allison remarked.
Emma grinned. “Absolutely not. Remember all those times I dragged you to the cupcake café?”
“How could I forget when they had the best cream cheese frosting in the world? I blame that store for all the weight I gained that year! I’ll be honest, I still dream about it sometimes.”
Emma laughed. Ally was such a joy to be around—her energy was infectious, her jokes quick and clever, and her demeanor open and straightforward. Though she could be sharp at times, her warm heart and compassion for downtrodden people were captivating. Impulsively, Emma seized Ally’s hand as she reached for her wineglass.
“I’ve missed you,” Emma whispered. She told herself that it was the wine that made her head spin, not the sensation of Ally’s soft fingers stroking her palm.
Fear and desire warred inside Allison. She knew that Emma hadn’t missed her the way that Allison wished she had. Part of her—an overwhelmingly large part—longed to shove the table aside and press her lips to Emma’s. Luckily, her logical side won out and she gave a neutral answer. “I know, it’s great to see you again!” She said, hoping her voice sounded casual. She pulled her hand out of Emma’s, pretending she wanted another sip of wine. Was she imagining things or did the briefest expression of disappointment cross Emma’s face? A split second later it was gone, replaced by a tentative smile.
“It’ll be great to be able to hang out again this year now that we’re actually in the same place,” Emma commented.
“Absolutely,” Allison responded emphatically, ignoring the voice chanting in her head: Danger, danger, danger. Run.
After dessert, Allison reluctantly stated that she really should go home to study. They lingered in the parking lot, prolonging the evening, neither wanting it to end. After saying goodnight for the third time, Emma held out her arms. Allison stepped into her embrace without hesitation, pressing her face into the other woman’s neck just as she had all those years ago. Emma’s breathing shallowed as Allison’s breath trickled over her skin. Their bodies settled together, fitting perfectly. Both women relaxed in the peace of their embrace; for a moment, nothing else mattered but that they were together.
They pulled back, unsteady, searching for words.
“Well,” Emma was pleased to hear that Allison’s voice was hoarse. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon, right?”
“Absolutely,” Emma replied.
4
Allison settled into the life of a first-year resident, learning to balance studying with her duties to patients. Devon gave her a standing invitation to Monday night dinners crafted by Ben, a treat she looked forward to all weekend. Meanwhile, Emma and Allison settled into a paralyzed stalemate; they waved when they encountered each other in the hallway and exchanged pleasantries when required. Allison had made excuses to avoid spending time alone with Emma. As much as Allison craved her presence, she resisted the temptation. She told herself that she wasn’t sad that after she declined a second invitation, Emma stopped asking. Meanwhile, Emma convinced herself that she wasn’t hurt by Allison’s cold shoulder—the other woman obviously had a lot on her plate, settling into her new life, and she shouldn’t have expected things to be the same as they were in college. Late at night, alone with her thoughts, she did wish she knew why they had grown apart in the first place.
A few weeks after their dinner, Allison found herself on an overnight shift with Emma as the supervising resident. Being near her was exquisite torture for Allison. Luckily, Devon was on the same shift and he did his best to be a buffer between the two women. Allison was grateful to have a friendly presence as they evaluated patients, ordered tests, and prescribed medication. The evening was proceeding surprisingly smoothly, given the circumstances, until a complication arose.
An older female patient came in complaining of dizziness and numbness in her fingers. Allison ordered an MRI and full blood workup, thinking she may be having a stroke or panic attack. Emma entered; she hung in the doorway, listening to Allison explain the tests to the patient. The older woman was clearly frightened; she had come alone, wasn’t wearin
g a wedding ring, and had declined when the nurse offered to call someone for her. Emma was touched to see Allison seated on a stool by the bed, squeezing the woman’s hand. She was used to seeing Ally as a tough, no-nonsense physician; it was a pleasant surprise to see her treat the patient so gently. Without warning, the patient’s eyes rolled up and her heartbeat flatlined. An alarm sounded throughout the unit.
Allison and Emma moved in perfectly synchronized harmony; Allison began chest compressions as Emma hit the code light and fetched the crash cart. Nurses flooded the room; Emma gave calm instructions as one attached the defibrillator pads to the patient’s chest.
Emma continued, “Allison, note the monitor. This is pulseless ventricular tachycardia. Two minutes of CPR, then we use the defibrillator.”
Allison gave a brief nod, focused on keeping the patient’s blood flowing to her brain. Emma charged the machine, jerking her head to indicate that Allison should stop her ministrations. She shocked the patient once; no response.
“Kiran, administer one milligram of epinephrine in the IV.” The nurse scrambled to obey.
The second pulse of electricity jerked the woman’s body, but no heartbeat appeared.
“Javier, check the airway; Kiran, give another milligram.”
“Clear!”
“Clear.”
The machine beeped once, then again. A jagged line reappeared on the heart rate monitor screen as the old woman took a shaky breath. Her eyelids fluttered open. Allison looked over the bed in relief to find Emma’s eyes on her. Tension stretched between them like a tangible haze, broken only by a nurse’s inquiry. Emma turned to answer him as Allison took the patient’s hand again, explaining what had happened and reassuring her.
A few minutes later, Emma tugged Allison into the resident’s workroom. “Ally, are you okay? That was unexpected.”