Frost Bite

by S A Magnusson

  I wasn’t there long before the door opened, and a familiar voice chuckled. “Dr. Stone. Didn’t expect to see you in here at this time of day.”

  I looked over to see Brad Roberts. He was tall, dark-haired, with the athletic physique of a basketball player—he had been on a Division III team in college. He also usually had the arrogance of a former player, which didn’t help. But surprisingly, that had begun to change over the last few months.

  “It’s one of those days,” I said.

  “Because you’re missing your girlfriend?”

  “You better be careful, Brad. Someone’s going to label you as insensitive.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, dropping down next to me. He watched me for a long moment. He wore scrubs, but no white coat like most of the attendings did. I wondered if he was trying to show off his body. Around Gillespie, he wasn’t even the fittest male physician there. “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “I’ve been around you the entire time you’ve been in residency. I can tell when something happened. Give it up, Stone.”

  Had there been anyone else to talk to at that moment, I might have done so, or had Kate been around, I would’ve gone to her—but it was only Roberts, and though I hated it, I’d known him a long time, and did have some trust he wouldn’t spread gossip about me. At least not much gossip. It helped I already had enough on him I could share, too.

  “I had a patient who probably had cannabinoid hyperemesis.”

  “Yeah? We’ve been seeing more and more of that, especially as how weed’s legal in so many places. I love how people like to believe stuff from Colorado or Oregon doesn’t get to us, but it does.”

  “I didn’t take you as someone who was anti-drug.”

  “I’m not anti-drug. I am anti-lack of common sense. Why make it such a hassle for us to get patients medical treatments here?”

  “Now you want to prescribe marijuana?”

  “I’ve seen it work, Stone. I’ve seen patients who have suffered from seizures until they go slinking off to places where the stuff is legal and get a hold of it. Why make it difficult for people to get access to things like that? Hell, drinking is legal, and you and I have both seen plenty of people who’ve come in with alcohol-related issues.”

  “I don’t know I would’ve recognized it.”

  “I thought you said you saw a patient with it.”

  “She most likely has it. The symptoms fit, at least in hindsight.”

  “Hindsight?” he asked.

  “My intern made the diagnosis.”

  Brad paused for a moment, watching me for long stretches, I waited for his laugh, but it never came. “Let me guess. Gillespie?”

  I nodded.

  “You can’t take it too personally when it’s someone like that. You know those military guys have all sorts of experience before they get to residency.”

  I shrugged. I didn’t know that, and it wasn’t as if Gillespie had been holding it over my head. In fact, he’d brushed it off, assuming I had come to the same diagnosis—and it was possible I would have, but not at the same speed. Mine would have involved a lot more testing.

  “When things like that happen, it makes me worry what else I might miss.”

  “We all miss things, Stone. That’s how this job works. We do the best we can, we provide the best care we can, but we are human. Too often the public forgets that, and it’s like they expect all their doctors to be neurosurgeons.”

  “Neurosurgeons, Brad?”

  “You know. They expect their doctors all to be like God.”

  I leaned back, laughing to myself. “I don’t hang out with too many neurosurgeons. Or God, come to that.”

  “One of my best friends from med school is a neurosurgery resident,” he said. “That damn program is like six years, so even when he’s finally done, I’ll have been an attending for two years.”

  “You realize it’s going to take him all of one year to out-earn you?”

  “I didn’t say income didn’t make a difference. Then again, I don’t have to deal with the calls like he does. I get to go home, hand off my patients at the end of the day, and move on. That’s why our specialty is great, Stone.”

  “It’s great until people die because we missed something.”

  “Your patient with hyperemesis won’t die because you overlooked the cause of her symptoms. Think about how many people end up coming back over and over because something isn’t picked up the first time. Vomiting isn’t going to kill anyone. Besides, you’re a good doc. Sometimes you get in your head too much, but you’re good at what you do.”

  I looked over at Brad, feeling a strange emotion. Could it be he was actually being kind to me? I would never have expected it, and I could just imagine what Kate would say if I told her Roberts was acting like a human, not the usual asshole. Maybe serving as an attending truly had changed him.

  “You know one thing you could do for your patient?” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Confiscate her supply.”

  “Oh yeah? And what would I do with it?” I asked.

  “Well, we’d have to do some research on whether there was a trend,” Roberts said.

  “I didn’t take you for the kind of person to smoke.” I looked at him sideways, eyeing him.

  “Not normally, but you know, since finishing residency—and fellowship—I’ve had a little bit of a change of heart,” he answered, a slight shrug accompanying his words.

  “I see that.”

  “Oh yeah?” Roberts grinned at me.

  “Yeah.” And I had seen it; he was more… human these days.

  “I think it comes from finally getting enough sleep,” Brad said.

  “You weren’t all that sleep-deprived in fellowship.”

  “Maybe not in my fellowship, but residency is something different. I was glad when that was finally over. Trust me. You will be too.”

  “I just have to decide where I’m going to go.” I raised my brows as if it would help inspiration to come to me.

  He smiled. “I suspect they’ll offer you a job here. They usually do for the right person,” Brad said.

  “If there’s an attending opening. And if I’m the right person…”

  “Hey, you are the right person, and there’s always an opening. The department keeps growing, so there’s always a need for more docs, but you might just have to work more nights if you stay here.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked.

  “Because I’ll have seniority.”

  “I thought you like the nights. That gives you the opportunity to sneak off with some of the nurses.”

  “I have not done that!” He looked around before grinning. “Recently.”

  We both laughed. “You’re kind of a pig,” I said, but laughing still.

  “Kind of? I’ve tried to be nothing but a pig,” he grinned. “I’m a little deflated to hear I haven’t been totally successful. Besides, you can hardly say much.”

  “Why is that?”

  “We all know the kind of person you are, Stone. Hell, you came on to me willingly!” he said.

  “There you go, ruining it.”

  “Ruining what?”

  “Just when I thought I would give you the benefit of the doubt, you go and be you all over again. Always so crude…” My voice was low now, my cheeks flushed. Now I was the one feeling deflated; I’d sort of liked the idea he was being nice to me.

  Roberts shrugged. He got to his feet, leaning forward. “Better get back to work, Stone. Don’t want any of your attendings to catch you lounging for too long.”

  “You do realize I am an attending.” I barely wanted to look at him now; why couldn’t he just go? He could be a pig somewhere else.

  “You go ahead and keep convincing yourself of that,” he said. “It’s so cute.” He spun, heading out of the room, and I sat there a few moments before getting to my feet.

  It was times like these when Barden�
�s offer to work with me and teach me more about my potential with magic became even more appealing. I wouldn’t have to deal with assholes like Roberts, though there almost certainly would be other assholes I’d have to engage with. Arrogance and ego came with every profession, and I guessed more so when dealing with magical users.

  After a moment, I followed Roberts back out and looked around the ER, the steady cacophony of noise drawing me back in. I took a deep breath, determined to get through the day.

  8

  As I was walking home, I couldn’t help but feel the presence of someone near me. It was almost as if they were chasing me. With the vampire attack from the night before still fresh in my mind, I spun around, digging for my phone, ready to scream.

  Instead, it was Roberts again—just the man I didn’t crave the sight of. He’d changed out of his scrubs and wore jeans and a striped button-up shirt, his winter jacket hanging open. He flashed a smile as he reached me. “Jesus, Stone. You’re jumpy.”

  “Yeah? You’re the one running up on women on the street.”

  “I’m not running up on you. What’s got you so skittish?”

  “You do realize it’s seven o’clock, already dark, and you came chasing behind me saying nothing?”

  Roberts smiled. “Yeah. Maybe that doesn’t look so good.”

  “Why are you walking? You don’t live anywhere near here.”

  “Just figured I would see if you wanted a drink.”

  “Because we had such a nice conversation before?”

  “You looked like you needed to get a drink, and with Michaels off on her sabbatical”—he said the word with a wrinkling of his nose—“I didn’t know who else you’d got to hang out with.”

  “Look, this isn’t going to end up with me in bed with you.”

  “Hey. I wasn’t the one suggesting it. But now you mention it…”

  “I just know what your offer of drinks means.”

  “You took it willingly the last time.”

  “Willingly does not mean I want a repeat performance.” I wanted to disregard him, but I couldn’t deny that night with Roberts had been fun. He’d had enough experience and knew what he was doing. “But I’d be open for a drink. Where were you thinking?”

  “Well, we’re not that far from the Red Pen, so why don’t we head there?”

  It was something of a dive bar, but frequented by hospital folks because of how close it was to Hennepin General, and it was far more comfortable than some of the other clubs around the downtown area. I agreed and we made our way there.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t have a date tonight.”

  “I did. She canceled.”

  “That’s got to hurt.”

  “Not so much. She was cute and all, but…”

  “You’re disgusting,” I said, almost calling him a pig again.

  “I know. And it’s more work venturing outside of the ER to get these dates.”

  “Have you already boned your way through all of the ER staff? I figured it would take you a little longer, especially with as many new staff as we have coming through.”

  “Nah. It’s more I’m trying to set a good example. You know, I am an attending.”

  “I seem to have heard that a time or two from you.”

  The bar was narrow, crammed in between a couple of larger buildings on either side and when we entered, the jukebox was playing a little too loudly. It was some eighties song, one of those hair metal bands I’d never gotten into, and a group of men sitting at a table was laughing, making me think they’d been the ones responsible for the playlist. The Red Hen had one of those fancy jukeboxes that allowed anyone to pick their songs from an app on their phone.

  We found a high-top table with no one sitting at it and I took a seat while Roberts went to the bar. He came back with two tall beers, setting one in front of me. “I know you and Michaels generally like the fancier drinks, but I’m afraid he didn’t have that much in the way of a wine selection.”

  “Who said that’s all I drink?”

  “I didn’t take you for the beer type.”

  “Because you think you’re so manly that only dudes can drink a beer.” I glanced at the glass, taking a long drink. “Beer was always the easiest thing to get a hold of when I was in high school.”

  “You started drinking in high school?”

  “Doesn’t everybody?”

  “Not the people who end up as doctors.”

  “I think you’re wrong, but that’s not too surprising,” I said. “Three people in my class ended up going to medical school. And all of them partied with me.”

  I finished the beer while listening to Roberts going on about one of his patients. He was careful as he did it, making certain not to say any names or anything that could identify the person, not wanting to violate the rules restricting how much you could share. In a place like this, surrounded by others in the medical profession, it would be all too easy for someone to overhear what he was saying, and the penalties for getting caught were pretty severe.

  We could talk in generalities, though, and often did. It dehumanized the patient, something I’d realized right away troubled me more than it troubled a lot of the people I worked with. How could it not when we referred to people as ‘that patient with the headache,’ or ‘the one with the cardiac arrest?’ Caring for people was what had brought me into medicine. Being honest with myself, it was the reason I feared not being a good enough doctor. It was the fear people like my friend Kate didn’t fully understand. She was naturally smart, and because of that, how could she ever think anything other than that she was a great doctor for her patients?

  “Did Gillespie see anything else he thought to embarrass you with?”

  “There wasn’t anything else.”

  “He came into a couple traumas with me. He’s good.”

  “I’m not surprised you like him,” I said.

  “I’m surprised you don’t.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I figured you for his type,” he grinned.

  “And what type is that?”

  “You don’t have to get so defensive, Stone. All I’m saying is he’s a nice guy, the nurses respond to him—so I suspect you would call him good-looking—and he’s smart.”

  The bartender set another drink down in front of me, and I took a long draw. “There’s a lot to unpack there, Roberts.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, have you talked to him about your feelings?” I said. Now it was my turn to get one up on him. He deserved it.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s obvious to me you find yourself attracted to him. And as you said, he’s a good-looking guy, so I don’t disagree with that.”

  Roberts glared at me. “Don’t be an ass.” His face was no longer bearing an inane grin. I thought he might even have been offended—or, better still, a touch worried.

  “Hey. I’m not judging,” I said. “I think it’s actually pretty progressive of you to finally come out. You’ve been compensating far too long.”

  “I’m not compensating at all.”

  “No? Could’ve fooled me. I thought all the nurses you’ve been banging are you trying to hide your true self.”

  “There are times you’re just as bad as Michaels.”

  “I think you’re wrong. I’m usually worse than Michaels.”

  Eventually, our vocal sparring done, we both laughed and relaxed. Hell, the beer was good in that place. I felt the day’s stresses fall away from my shoulders and sank back on my chair, though it was difficult. The high-topped table had equally tall seats, making too many beers and an abundance of relaxation likely to end up in an embarrassing show of falling off the chair.

  We fell into a comfortable conversation, and he continued to tell me about patients he’d seen, asking whether I thought he’d managed them the right way. I was drawn to do the same, ultimately sharing with him all of the patients I had seen throughout the day, treating it like
an attending sign-out, the same way we did when we were residents. Now neither of us was, such sign-outs were unnecessary.

  While we were talking, a strange irritation caused me to continue looking around. For a while, I couldn’t tell what it was or why I’d pick up on anything, but the longer I felt it, the more certain I was of the source of it. The bracelet I wore itched like crazy.

  The fact it was responsible for what I was detecting told me what I picked up on, though not why. Magic. It had to be, but how was I detecting it, and where was I detecting it from?

  “What is it? Looking for someone more interesting than me? Looking for Gillespie?”

  I turned my attention back to Roberts, shaking my head. “Sorry. I just felt something.”

  “Something like what?” He asked.

  “A woman thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Is it that time?”

  “You’re disgusting. And I wouldn’t tell you, even if it was.”

  “You don’t need to use that as an excuse to keep from coming home with me.”

  “What makes you think I would go home with you?”

  “Fine. You don’t have to use it as an excuse to keep me from coming home with you.”

  “That’s not any better,” I snorted. The pig of earlier was actually making me laugh.

  “I know. I’m not interested in going back to Michaels’ place, to be honest. I figured you would have gotten your own apartment again by now.”

  “We get along well,” I said. “She’s not been there much, and I’m taking care of her cat.”

  “That sounds like a euphemism to me.”

  “Well, it would.”

  The strange irritation continued. I didn’t see anything in the bar to explain what I was picking up on and as I had little understanding of magic to begin with, I doubted I would even recognize it if I saw it. Still, I couldn’t shake that persistent sense.

  “Great,” Roberts said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Did you invite him?” Roberts said.

  I spun around in my seat. Standing in the door was the aforementioned Matt Gillespie. Like Roberts, he had changed out of his scrubs. I was the only one still dressed for work but wasn’t about to let that bother me. Unlike Roberts, Matt wore nothing more than a tight T-shirt and slim-fitting jeans. He looked more casually comfortable than striving for dressy.