by Lynn Donovan
“Why?” Wendy stood prepared to return to work. “You break your leg, too?”
He stepped up three steps on the ladder, lifted a ceiling tile and looked down at her. “That and both arms, a shoulder blade and four ribs. Nearly died, so they tell me.” He disappeared into the ceiling.
She stared at his blue jeans and work boots. He had a nice rear end!
Obviously their conversation was concluded. She needed to get back on the floor. But she wanted more than anything to stay here and learn more about this most interesting barista slash maintenance man who wrote that he was broken without her.
“Wendy?” Heidi Carson, a new RN on Wendy’s floor, stuck her head in the break room. She looked up at the guy protruding from the ceiling and back to Wendy. “I’m ‘bout to change out an IV, you wanna come watch?”
She glanced at Dillon’s well fitted blue jeans and returned her gaze to Heidi. “Sure.” It took all her will power to take a step. And then another. To leave Dillon up on that ladder.
“I’ll see ya around.” She hollered up at him but he didn’t answer. Pursing her lips with disappointment, she hurried to catch up with Heidi.
TWO
The next morning, Wendy lugged her Obstetrics Nursing books and purse into the coffee shop, anticipating seeing Dillon again. Her phone rang just as she closed her jeep door. “Hello Mom.” She perched the phone on her shoulder. How did her parents seem to always know when she arrived at her study haven? “Yes, I talked to Dad, yesterday.”
A woman exited the Java Cupid and held the door for Wendy to enter. She nodded a thank you with her phone teetering on her shoulder and her books precariously balanced in her arms. Her eyes immediately searched the order counter for Dillon. Two girls and one black guy worked behind the service bar, but no Dillon.
“Wendy!” her mother’s voice called across the coffee shop.
She closed her eyes and drew in a long calming breath. Her mother’s long arm waved in the air like one of those air blower characters at a used car lot. Wendy glanced around to make sure she was the only one humiliated by her mother’s greeting. She lifted a hand and eyebrow to acknowledge the crazy woman. Then held up a finger telling her mom to wait and took her place in line to order.
“Honey!” her mother pointed with a huge gesture at the table. “I’ve already got you something.”
Wendy sighed again before turning around to leave the line. Of course she did. Taking the walk of shame, she went over to her mother’s booth and sat down. “Thanks Mom.”
“What classes do you have today?” Her mother glared at her huge obstetrics book.
She lifted the book as a demonstration of the class. “Obstetrics Nursing, obviously. And a clinical at the hospital until noon. Then I work from one to seven.
Her mother tsked her tongue. “I just don’t see how you keep such long hours.”
Wendy held up the cup of coffee that her mom had ordered for her. “Coffee is my best friend!” and sipped from the lid. Her mom order well, Chocolate Americano with caramel drizzle and whipped cream.
“Well, you remember to take your vitamins, too.” Her mother sipped her own coffee and let her eyes wander around the cafe.
“Right.” Wendy followed her mother’s gaze. Dillon rushed in from the back, still tying his apron. Huh? Wonder why he’s late? She imagined he had worked late at the hospital, but Maintenance wasn’t on round-the-clock shifts like the medical staff. Curiosity got the better of her, and she grabbed her wallet from her purse.
Wendy’s mother sputtered her confusion as Wendy slipped out of the booth, but she ignored her. One of the female baristas, Jaime Gleason, stepped away when Dillon took his place, so she could wait tables. Wendy stood, focused on the column of people in front of Dillon, and stepped up to the end of his line.
“Hey.” Wendy said when she reached the counter. Dillon seemed to blush slightly.
“Hey. Same as yesterday?” he asked.
Amazed he remembered what she’d order, especially since she had fumbled the order so terribly, she simply shook her head. “So, you worked late?”
He tilted his head and considered her question. “Oh. No. I stayed up late studying.” He turned to make her chocolate caramel drizzle cappuccino. When the swooshing of the steamed milk was finished, he snapped on the lip and turned to hand it to her. “This one’s on me.”
She cocked her head back. “Wha—Thank you.” She looked the cup over. “Does it have a secret message, too?”
He wrinkled his brow with a smile, then he winked at her like they had just shared a private joke. She walked away in a daze. Why’d he do that? She sat down with her mom, still in a trance. Her mother said something. Wendy squinted her eyes to focus on what she’d said. “Huh?”
“I said, ‘why did you buy another coffee?’ Is there something wrong with the Chocolate Cappuccino I bought you?”
“No.” Wendy muttered, still not quite back from the blissful world she had crossed over when Dillon winked at her. “I just wanted to ask Dillon a question.”
“Dillon?” Her mother rubbernecked trying to see the young man. “You know the barista’s by name?”
“Yeah. Well, that one. And Jaime…” Wendy became full alert to her mother’s presence. She pointed discretely as Jaime swooped by, taking orders for breakfast. “He works at the hospital, too. And yesterday…” Did she dare share with Nosey Nelly her message on the cup? She still had it in her car. The message had faded to invisible by now, of course. But she couldn’t bring herself to throw it away, either. It was scrapbook material now.
“What about yesterday?” her mother pressed.
“Patty!” a woman called to Wendy’s mother. “How are you? Is this Wendy? My how you’ve grown!”
Wendy rolled her eyes and then smiled at the woman.
“Mildred!” Her mom scooted out of the booth and hugged the boisterous woman. “It’s so good to see you! How’s Theo?”
“Oh, you know Theo. He’s fit as a fiddle.” The two giggled and hugged again. “Listen, give my best to Blake.”
“I will!” Patty said as she slid back into the booth and smiled while watching the woman leave the coffee shop.
Wendy stared at her mother a long time. Her mom sipped her coffee casually. Finally she met her stare. “What?”
Wendy raised an eyebrow. “Blake?”
Her mother blushed, then went pale. “Yes, well. I was going to tell you.”
Wendy tipped her forehead toward her mother. “Tell me what?”
Patty lifted her chin. It quivered a bit, and when she spoke, her voice shook with emotion. “I’m seeing somebody.”
“You’re seeing somebody!” Wendy repeated. “Mom! That’s… wonderful.”
“Really?” Patty’s eyes filled with tears. “I was terrified you’d be mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad at you?” Wendy reached across the table to take her mother’s hand. “Seriously, Mom. I think it’s wonderful. Now, tell me all about him.”
Her mother giggled. “Well—“
Patty sounded like a high school girl. She was effervescent telling Wendy the details. They had met in a creative writing night class her mother was taking at the community college. “He’s a widower and has a son who is attending the University. I don’t know what he’s studying. And he wants to meet you!”
“Who? Blake?”
“Yes, Blake! Silly, who’d you think I meant? His son?” Patty laughed. “I haven’t even met his son.” She tilted her head.
Uh Oh. Wendy didn’t like the look on her mother’s face.
“Hey! Maybe we can make it a foursome dinner date. I’ll invite you, and he can invite his son, and we can all meet at one time. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“Oh, Mom. I don’t know. I work ’til seven and I have to study.”
“Pish posh!” Patty waved her hand. “Blake’s a dear, you’ll like him. And I’m sure his son is as wonderful as he is. Say you’ll come.”
“Uh… Okay. But let m
e look at my schedule.” Wendy pulled out her iPhone and thumbed to the calendar app. “It… looks like Saturday evening is good for me.”
“Saturday it is.” Her mother slapped the table.
Wendy’s puckered her brow. Her mother had it bad. She hadn’t acted this excited in—Wendy couldn’t remember when.
“I’ll call you after I talk to Blake and tell you what time and where. Oh, Wendy! I’m so happy!” Patty squealed.
“I can see that.” Wendy widened her eyes. “I’m happy for you.” Maybe this new love interest will keep Mom out of her everyday business. She could only hope.
She sipped the cappuccino and glanced over her shoulder to observe the handsome barista whom she might get to see later at the hospital. A flash of his bottom, while he was up the ladder came to mind, brought a smile to her face. She liked how he looked in those jeans.
That afternoon, Wendy hustled from room to room to get beds changed and vitals taken. Five patients needed baths. All the while, she kept an eye out for Maintenance. Or one particular member of Maintenance. She considered busting a light bulb or smashing a vent cover, just so they could call for repairs. She giggled to herself at the thought.
Finally, mid-shift, she was able to take her break. She pulled a chair over to the microwave so she could sit while it cooked her Lean Cuisine. The door to the break room opened. She lifted her weary gaze to it. Her heart leapt when Dillon walked in.
“Hi.” Even with one syllable, he had the sexiest voice. He walked to the fridge and pulled out a Java Cupid to go styrofoam box and sat down at a table.
The microwave dinged and she stood to retrieve her meal. She walked over to the table he chose. “You mind?”
“No. Please do.” He flipped over the lid of the box, revealing a multi-grain turkey sandwich with bean sprouts and a cup of yogurt.
“Ah, that’s a good idea.” She indicated his dinner from the Cupid.
He nodded. “Yeah. Rocco insists I take one every day that I work. I guess he feels it’s his way of helping us poor college students.” Dillon chuckled.
He had a nice laugh. “That is thoughtful of him. Who’s Rocco?”
“Oh, he’s the owner. You don’t hardly see him, ‘cause he’s mostly in the back. He cooks and cleans up back there. Leaves the front to us ‘young folk’ as he calls us.” Dillon chuckled again. “You know the bus-boy, Charlie?”
She nodded.
“That’s his son.”
“Ah.” Wendy inhaled and rested her chin in her hand.
Dillon eyed her tray of chicken a l’orange. “You gonna eat that?”
She glanced down. “Oh. Sure.” She snorted. Oh god! She covered her mouth and nose. “I’m sorry!”
He smiled. “Don’t tell me, you’re one of those girls who snorts when they laugh?”
Wendy rolled her eyes. Heat filled her face. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m so sorry.”
“No. I think it’s cute.”
“It’s embarrassing.” She giggled.
He cocked his head to one side. “I think you’re cute.”
She sobered and stared at him. “You’re not so bad either, Dillon.” Heat swamped her face and she had to look down at her food.
“Listen, what time are you off?” He bit into his sandwich.
“Seven, but I—What you got in mind?” She scooped a bite of chicken and rice.
“Dunno. Maybe we could hang out?” He sipped from a water bottle.
She smiled. “Well, I usually go home and study but…”
“Yeah, me, too.” Disappointment washed over his face.
“You’re in school?” She continued eating, talking around the food in her mouth.
“Uh huh.” He finished the first half of his sandwich and lifted the second. “Engineering. You?”
She stared at him a moment. Didn’t he see her nursing textbooks? “Nursing.”
“Oh yeah. I knew that.” Dillon finished and stood to throw away his sack. He held the lid open for her to throw hers away, too. “Well, what if we studied together?”
“I guess that’d work.” A half smile lifted on the side of her mouth.
“Cool. Can I pick you up at seven?” Dillon put the last bite in his mouth.
“Um. I’ve got my Jeep here, so…” She took a pen from her scrub pocket and clicked it. Lifted his hand in hers and wrote in his palm. The intimacy of holding his hand and touching his palm caused her heart to race. Her breath caught in her chest. She focused on breathing normally so she could speak without panting. “That’s my address. Meet me there after work.”
At seven, Wendy rushed to the parking lot, tossed everything into the passenger seat and drove home as fast as humanly possible. She had to do a quick ninja cleaning on her apartment before Dillon got there. God, she wished she’d done the dishes this morning and made her bed. Parking in front of her unit, she grabbed her stuff and sprinted for the door. The key resisted, of course, of all days, and she growled trying to make it unlock her door.
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” Her dad, Lance Ashton, called from across the lawn.
“Not now, Dad.” She muttered and shoved the door open. She glanced around and determined what she could do the quickest and what had to be left undone. She tossed her books and purse on the couch. Rushed to the kitchen and shoved dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Rinsed the sink and ran a rag over the counter. Next, she tossed her covers up on the bed so it looked made and picked up clothes from the floor, tossing them in the laundry basket. She pulled the shower curtain closed to hide the messy shower, put the lid down on the toilet, and straightened the towel and hand towel.
Glancing around, she decided she couldn’t possibly vacuum, so she picked up her textbooks and stacked them neatly next to her chair, hung her coat in the closet next to the door, and shoved her purse onto the floor of the closet.
Then the doorbell rang.
One last look around. This was as good as it would get. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her hair, and glanced down at her scrubs. Oh God, they were filthy. She’d go change in a minute. She opened the door.
Dillon leaned against the door frame, with a backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked up as she opened the door and smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey. Wanna Coke or anything?” She stepped back to let him in. Pain shot up her leg, into her hip, and up her spine. She grimaced.
“You okay?” He reached out to steady her. His touch sent a thrill through her body, but the pain in her leg quickly overrode it.
She growled. “Yeah.” Closing her eyes, she accepted the pain and visualized it draining from her leg.
Dillon held her shoulders. “Is there anything I can do?”
She shook her head, but didn’t open her eyes.
With one hand still holding her shoulder, he closed her door and eased her over to the couch. “Here, sit down.”
She did. “There’s some Tylenol by the kitchen sink,” she said through clenched teeth.
Dillon looked toward the kitchen, verified she was okay, and hurried to the kitchen. He opened a cabinet next to the sink, took down a glass, filled it with water, poured out two Tylenol into the cap, and brought them to her. She took the glass and cap, tossed the pills back, and swallowed down the water. She rubbed her thigh and laid her head back on the couch.
“What happened?” Dillon sat beside her. “Did I cause this?”
“No. I just stepped wrong.” She hissed. “It’ll pass.”
“Must’ve been a bad break?” He spoke softly as if speaking in a normal voice would cause her more pain.
Her eyes shot open. “Yeah. An open comminuted-spiral fracture.”
He chuckled. “I recognized the bone pain, even though I’m not sure what a communal spiral fracture is.”
“Open means the bone penetrates the skin. Spiral means it twisted and broke along the shaft of the bone, like a barber pole stripe, plus, as if that weren’t enough, comminuted means it broke in three places at the center of the spiral bre
ak.” She sighed. “Damn ski didn’t break away from my boot like it was supposed to. So, as I tumbled…” She smiled, but it came across more as a grimace.
Nodding, he shoved his grey hoodie off his shoulders and pulled his arms out. Then lifted the long sleeves of his t-shirt to expose surgical scars along his forearms. “Both arms; radius and ulna” —he pointed to the injured bones as he called them out— “right femur, shoulder blade, and four ribs. Mostly my right side.”
Wendy stared at him in dismay. “Wow.” She whispered. “How?”
“Motorcycle. I zigged, it zagged. It wasn’t pretty.”
She touched his forearms with an index finger and gingerly traced the violet scar. “When?” She lifted her eyes to meet his.
He sighed and pulled down his sleeves. “Three years ago.”
THREE
Wendy and Dillon stayed on the couch talking and sharing their accident and recovery stories. “That’s why I want to be an orthopedic nurse. Because of the way some of those nurses treated me. They jerked me around in the bed and had no clue how much pain they caused me. I decided then and there, I’d become a nurse and my patients would never suffer like that in my care.”
“Yeah, same for me. After I went through rehab, I looked around at all the archaic and medieval equipment they had for us to work with and decided to become an engineer. I want to design equipment that will really help with rehab. I’m telling you, some of those apparatuses was straight out of a torture chamber somewhere deep in a dungeon in England.”
She giggled and he chuckled.
“I know what you mean. One time—”
They continued to talk, laugh, and share horror stories. She enjoyed his company and he seemed comfortable with her. He had been through a lot. Of course, so had she, but she didn’t have the number of broken bones he did. Was this what he meant when he said he was broken without her? How did he know about her break when he wrote her that message? Or was it simply a coincidence? He seemed genuinely surprised when she told him in the break room. She made a mental note to ask him about that sometime. But for now, she enjoyed talking with him. He had such a pleasant voice.
A knock came to her door. Dillon glanced an inquisitive look at her. “You expecting someone.”