Necessary Medicine

by M. K. York

  “Oh, she’s good.” Justin had been one of the very few to meet Neil’s family. “She’s got a kid.”

  “Yeah, I saw on Facebook! Devon, right?”

  “Right.”

  “I’m guessing he’s not the only Devon at his preschool.”

  “Busted. There are three of them.” He couldn’t help smiling at Justin, and Justin laughed back, that little explosive laugh he’d always liked. God, Justin was so pretty.

  Their food came quickly—one of the benefits of Antonio’s—but Neil was only a couple of bites in when his pager went off. “Crap,” he said, glancing down. “I’ve got to return this. I’ll just step outside, I’ll be right back.”

  It turned out it was a question so easy even his intern had gotten the answer right; she’d wanted reassurance. “Yes, push fluids,” he said, patiently.

  “Thank you.” There was a little quaver in her voice.

  “Are you doing okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, sorry to interrupt you.”

  “It’s all right. See you in twenty.”

  He hung up and went back inside. Justin was tapping something out briskly on his phone.

  “Sorry about that. Work.”

  “I figured it wasn’t your fun personal pager,” Justin said wryly. “And I’m assuming you’re not dealing drugs on the side.”

  “It would be a lot more lucrative.”

  “Not making the big bucks yet?”

  “Not even close. But it’s okay, I’m never free to spend it.”

  Justin leaned forward. “Okay, so. Here’s the deal. There’s a concert this Saturday night, a friend from work gave me a couple of tickets when she heard I was going to be down here. I don’t really want to go alone, and I was thinking maybe you’d come with? To check it out?”

  Neil hesitated.

  “Please? No strings attached. Just company.”

  “I do have Saturday off.” Neil heaved a sigh, making up his mind. Justin brightened up.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Yeah, what the hell. I might fall asleep on you. I’m not even joking about that. And I have to be at work at six Sunday morning, so I’m not staying out all night, either.”

  “Six in the morning? Jesus!”

  “That’s actually not early. I’m sleeping in.”

  Justin shook his head. “You crazy bastard. I can’t believe you’re doing this on purpose.”

  “It’s only kind of on purpose. I knew when I started out it was going to be hard, but I don’t think I understood how hard.”

  “Do you like it, though?”

  Neil thought about the feeling of completing part of a surgery, sometimes almost a whole surgery, and then walking with the gurney back to the PACU. Watching someone wake up better than they were before he started.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I really do.”

  Justin insisted on driving him back to the hospital, even though it was close enough to walk. “I took up all your time. It’s only fair.”

  He was getting out of the car, smiling back at Justin, box of cooling pizza in his hand; he was thinking, Maybe. One more try.

  It wouldn’t be fair to Justin if he moved down here just for Neil, but if he decided to move anyway—well.

  There’d be time to think about that later.

  He headed back into the hospital whistling, and didn’t realize he was doing it until one of the nurses, Susan, gave him a funny look. “Had a good lunch?”

  “Oh,” he said, startled. “Um. Yeah.” He hefted the takeout box in one hand. “Antonio’s.”

  She grinned at him, raising her eyebrows. “A very good lunch?”

  “Maybe.” He smiled back at her.

  He had a feeling the news might spread, but he didn’t mind it so much.

  * * *

  “Look, Mark.”

  Mark glanced up. “Yeah?”

  “I, uh. I really need to not be called about work Saturday night.”

  “Oh?” Mark’s eyebrows climbed practically into his hairline.

  “Not like that! Justin invited me along to a concert. He had an extra ticket.”

  “Yeah, I’ll bet.” Mark leaned back, folding his arms. “I’ve ‘had an extra ticket’ once or twice in my time too.”

  “It’s—I don’t think it’s like that.”

  “So what’s it like? Dish.”

  “You know you’re not supposed to say things like that.”

  “It’s the twenty-first century, I’ll talk how I like. Tell me the gory details. Did he beg you to get back together? Did he tell you your sweet eyes are all he thinks of at night?”

  “No! His office is looking at opening a second branch down in San Francisco. They’re talking about maybe making him the office manager for it.”

  Mark whistled softly between his teeth. “Damn. And I thought my love life had drama.”

  “It wouldn’t if you’d stop fucking other residents.”

  “There’s only been, like, two of them. And I’d stop fucking other residents if I ever saw anyone else.”

  “Anyway, Saturday. You’re on call. Do you think you can keep people from calling me? Just for, like, four hours?”

  “I can try. I’m not Superman.”

  “Thank you, kind friend.”

  “Yeah, remember you’re going to be due to return the favor someday.”

  “I already did you a favor. I didn’t rat you out for fucking in the supply closet.”

  “Whoa, whoa! We weren’t—it wasn’t, uh.”

  “I don’t need to know and I don’t want to know.”

  * * *

  Neil spent a ridiculously long time deciding what to wear to the concert, but he eventually settled on a green button-up that he knew brought out his eyes. Justin had always liked his eyes.

  The venue was a nice place, low-key. He’d never been there before, but he’d heard about it from the attendings, who liked it well enough. Justin texted him, I’m in line, and when he got there it was easy enough to find him. He just looked for the light blond hair. Justin always stood out in a crowd—he was even taller than Neil, and pale as a marble statue.

  “Hey,” said Neil as he got to Justin. Justin turned around, smiling. He was wearing a suit. Neil was glad he’d gone with the button-up.

  “Hey.” After a split second where they tried to decide how to greet each other, Justin went in for a hug. Neil hugged back. “How was your day off?”

  “Fine. I slept until noon. Then I got up and went to watch some TV and fell asleep in front of it.”

  Justin laughed. “Maybe you’ll be able to stay awake long enough to enjoy the music?”

  “It’s a possibility. If I fall asleep facedown at the table, just let me, though.”

  “Duly noted.”

  “It’s not as bad as it was intern year—I felt like I was dying the whole time. But it’s not great. I’m still on call all the damn time.”

  Justin leaned forward to hand their tickets to the bouncer, who nodded and waved them in. Neil followed Justin to a little table near the back, between a couple of columns.

  “I hear she’s good.” Justin motioned toward the stage with his chin. “We’re thinking about booking her for an event this fall, actually, so this counts as work research too.”

  “I expected biotech to have more tech.” Neil settled in, putting his coat over the back of the chair. “Less...I don’t know.”

  Justin smiled sharply. “The scientists handle the tech. I handle the rest of it.”

  “Fair enough.”

  A waiter came to ask if they wanted drinks and dropped off menus and ice water. The pitcher was sleek, stainless steel, and long enough that they could have reached over two people to pour. Justin couldn’t help smir
king and then giggling out loud as he tried to pour for Neil.

  “Oh, God,” he said. “I’m so sorry if I spill any of this in your lap.”

  “It’s all right. All my remaining clothes are basically indestructible at this point.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “You try paying attention to laundry instructions after a thirty-six-hour shift.”

  Justin shuddered. “No, thanks.”

  They sat in silence for a minute. The inside of the club was all soft, rich browns—leathers and woods, brass studs in the chairs. There were wooden beams across the ceiling, and onstage the musician was starting to warm up, none of the mics hot yet. It smelled like cooking food and expensive perfumes.

  “Thanks for bringing me.” Neil took another look around. A woman a few tables over was wearing a dress that clung to her like a second skin, black silk shifting as she breathed. He found himself counting her respiratory rate without meaning to.

  Justin smiled, and it looked more real this time, warming his ice-blue eyes. “Thanks for coming. This would have been a lot less fun on my own.”

  Neil took a sip of water to save himself from having to respond.

  “So.” Justin slowly rolled his own water glass between his hands. “How much longer is residency?”

  “Two and a half years. I’m just about halfway through it.”

  “That’s intense. Do you know where you’re going to practice yet?”

  “No, I was thinking about moving back to Oregon but, you know. California’s growing on me.”

  “That makes sense.” Justin took a breath, like he was going to say something, then let it out. “California is really nice. There’s always sunshine.”

  “Yeah, and I can go surfing in places where it’s almost warm.”

  “Not like the Gorge,” said Justin wistfully.

  “God, yeah.” They spared a moment’s silence for the beautiful and always fucking freezing river.

  “You still surf?”

  Neil nodded. “Every once in a while. I don’t have a lot of time for it. I’m at the gym more. But I get out occasionally.”

  “That’s good. You need to have a hobby.”

  Neil laughed a little. “Yeah, at least one.”

  “It sounds like you don’t have time for a lot more than that.” Just then, their waiter reappeared with their drinks, and Justin put in an order for appetizers, glancing across at Neil to make sure it sounded good.

  It felt so familiar. Familiar in the best way—the way things had always been easy with Justin, until medical school had started taking up all his time.

  “Oh, I think she’s going to start,” said Justin.

  She was good. She mostly worked with acoustic guitar, singing over it, and it should have felt uncomfortably like a Jewel concert, but she kept things interesting with her voice riding rough over the edges of chords, the lyrics clear and sharp.

  After her set was over, they lingered, finishing their food. Their hands brushed when they both went for the last risotto ball, and they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  “Okay,” said Neil. “I’ve got to—”

  His phone went off. Work number.

  “Fuck.” He reached down to it. “I asked them not to call me tonight. I said, I’m going to be busy.”

  “It’s okay.” Justin’s lips were twisting in a half smile. He looked sad.

  Neil made a decision. “Do you want—do you want to come by the hospital with me if I have to duck in, just while I check on this, and then go get some fro-yo?”

  That startled a laugh out of Justin. “Fro-yo?”

  “Like we used to.” Back when they’d been twenty-four, twenty-five, and they’d thought it was hilarious to get frozen yogurt and load it with toppings in the middle of the night.

  “Sure. What the hell.” Justin’s eyes were soft.

  Neil returned the call—and yeah, they wanted him to come in and check on a patient. He’d just done the surgical case yesterday. “I’m sorry, man,” said Mark, “but I need to know how he looks compared to yesterday, and the senior resident on the case isn’t answering.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll come in and take a look. But then I’m leaving.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “And, uh. I’m bringing Justin. He’ll—I’ll have him wait for me.”

  “Oh, bringing Justin?”

  “Shut up.”

  “For now, but only because I’m busy. Later, we’re talking.”

  “Only if you tell me what’s up with, what’s her name, the girl from the dry cleaner’s.”

  “Absolutely not.” Mark hung up on him.

  * * *

  Justin eased the car to a stop. “Do you want me to come in?”

  “Yeah, if you’re up for it.”

  “Sure.” Justin shot him another little smile.

  Justin followed him into the building, up to the ICU, as Neil fumbled his ID badge out of his jacket pocket and clipped it to his collar. “Okay, if you could just hang out, uh, Nance? Can you keep an eye on Justin for me?”

  “Of course,” said the medical assistant. “Justin? I’m Nancy. You can wait for Dr. Carmona in the break room.”

  “Great, thanks.”

  “I’ll come get you in a minute.” Neil touched his back impulsively. That got him another smile.

  “I’ve got my phone. I won’t be bored.”

  Neil found Mark down the hall, and Mark waved him into the room. The patient looked like hell. “He was not in this bad of shape yesterday.”

  His skin was crepey, yellowed. “New jaundice?” asked Mark, sounding defeated.

  “Yeah. Absolutely. What’re his liver enzymes?”

  “Not good. Worse than yesterday.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You ever get in touch with the senior resident?”

  “No, but I’m going to try him again. If I can’t get him, I’m paging the attending, so help me God.”

  “Nice knowing you.”

  “You got a better idea?”

  “Honestly? No. I definitely don’t.”

  “Okay, then. You can head on back to Juuuuustin,” Mark sang under his breath.

  “Oh, seriously. Shut up.”

  “Do I get to meet him? Is he a mystery man?”

  “You have a patient to take care of.”

  “I’m waiting on a page return anyway.”

  “Okay. You can meet him. Do not embarrass me.”

  “Oh, that is not going to be an option.”

  Neil threw his hands into the air. “Fine. Fine.”

  So Mark, rumpled white coat and all, followed him back out to the break room. Justin was sitting in one of the slick brown pleather chairs, reading something on his phone.

  “Hey,” said Neil, and Justin looked up, breaking into a smile.

  “Hey.”

  “This is Mark—he’s one of the other third-year residents.”

  “Neil’s official backup.” Mark leaned forward to shake Justin’s hand. “Wingman, if you will.”

  “Oh, yeah?” asked Justin politely.

  “Yeah, and it’s my fault he got dragged in here tonight. Are you two going to go have more fun? How was the concert?”

  “It was good,” said Neil. “And yes, we’re going to go. Have a nice night, Marky Mark.”

  Mark flipped him off, said, “It was very nice to meet you,” to Justin, and left.

  “Sorry about him,” said Neil. “I think he was Agatha Christie in a past life.”

  Justin laughed out loud. “That’s fine.”

  They made it back out without any further interrogation. They found a place that was still open, and they ducked
into it.

  “Oh, gross.” Neil squinted into Justin’s cup. “You can’t seriously be putting gummy bears on that.”

  “You’re one to talk. You’ve got—what are those?”

  “Reese’s Pieces. They’re chocolate. Chocolate goes with frozen yogurt. Gummies do not.”

  Justin rolled his eyes. “I do what I want,” he said in his best snotty teenager voice, and they stared at each for a minute before they both cracked up.

  The actual teenager running the till didn’t seem impressed; they checked out and went to sit at the bar looking out the window, by mutual unspoken agreement. Two grown men in fancy clothes, eating frozen yogurt covered in candy at almost midnight on a Saturday. They must make a picture.

  They talked a little—chatted about the hospital, about Justin’s brother’s kids, the Bay Area traffic.

  Neil could feel his eyelids starting to get heavy. He was going to need to go to bed soon, but he still pushed the fro-yo back and forth in the waxed cardboard bowl, reluctant to leave.

  “You look like you’re about to fall over. You need to go?”

  Neil sighed, straightening up. “Yeah. I think I do.”

  When Justin pulled up in front of Neil’s place, Neil jerked awake. He’d dozed off already.

  “I had a really good time,” said Justin softly.

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  “Look, I’m not saying I’m going to take the job down here, but—if I did, do you think you’d want to give it another shot?”

  Neil sat in silence for a while.

  Finally, he said, “I’d want to, yeah. But do I think it’s a good idea? No. Because I’m—I don’t know if you noticed, but I have one weekend and then two random days off a month. I spend them sleeping. I don’t have a life, and I don’t feel human most of the time these days. So everything you hated when I was in med school, only worse.”

  Justin nodded slowly, staring out the windshield.

  “I’m not leaving town until tomorrow night.” Justin paused. “Can I come by the hospital tomorrow and talk to you?”

  “You can, but I’m probably going to get paged in the middle of it.” Neil ground the heel of his hand into his eye. “Christ. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Just—let me think about it, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Good night.”