by Kacey Shea
“Hello, Derek. I just needed to hear your voice, baby.” Her own sounds weak and frail. Shit. I don’t want to deal with this right now. Ever, really.
“What did you do today, ma?” I jog down the stairs to the covered lot where my Yukon sits.
“Oh, I didn’t feel like doing much, baby. Watched a little TV but I couldn’t focus. When you coming by? I haven’t seen you in so long.” Try three days.
“Ma, I’ll be by next Saturday. Just like I always come by on Saturdays. Remember.” Pushing the start button on my SUV I pull out of the space and retrace the familiar route to my destination. I drop my phone in the drink holder as it pairs to Bluetooth.
“Oh. Yes. Of course I do. I—I miss him. I miss you.” I can hear the muffled sobs and it guts me. It always does.
“Hey, Ma. Don’t cry. You know, maybe I’ll bring you breakfast tomorrow. Would that be good? Grab donuts from that place you used to take me when I was little. Bozo’s? What’s it called?”
Her sobs attempt a chuckle. “You always used to call it that. Bosa. Not Bozo.” I can hear the smile in her voice and it calms my fears.
“I always wondered why they didn’t have clowns working there.” I laugh and pull into my usual spot. “Hey, Ma, I’ve gotta run. Get some rest tonight. I’ll be by in the morning, ’kay?”
“Thanks, Son. I’ll see you then. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She ends the call and I jog up the lighted path. The cool night air sends chills over my arms. I hope they’ll make an exception for my lack of punctuality. Hey, being a rock star has to be good for something.
“GOODNIGHT, ELIJAH. GOODNIGHT, EZRA.” MY arms wrap tight around my boys. Their freshly bathed hair tickles my nose.
“’Night, Mama.” Eli squeezes me tighter.
“Have a good night at work, Mama.” Ezra, my little man, smiles brightly. The joy that radiates from his green eyes hits me in the gut. He’s been through so much and knowing he’s happy, healthy, clean, fed, safe—there’s no better feeling of accomplishment or success. It almost makes leaving him and Eli to head into work an easy task.
“Be good for Auntie Evie. She’ll put you to bed at seven. Uncle Tate will be home after you’re asleep and take you to school in the morning. Be good, my boys.”
“We will!” they answer in chorus.
“Thanks, Evie.”
“Of course. Have a good shift tonight.” She grins and then bends down so that she’s eye level with the boys. “Okay, we have an hour until bedtime. Your choice, fort making or Lego building?”
“Forts!” they shout in unison, and Evie laughs. Their chatter follows me out the door.
It was nice to have a full weekend off with the boys, and while I’m always sad to leave them, I love my job and look forward to checking on my regulars. There are always a few kids I get assigned on a consistent basis who steal my heart completely. While it’s difficult to witness a child struggle with illness, I like being a part of the team that provides the absolute best care possible. It’s what I’d want for my own boys if God forbid they ever were sick.
I continue to think about the phone call from Friday morning. I asked a few of my friends working this weekend to text me if anyone else tried to reach me at the hospital, and no calls came in. I really must have been tired. I’m sure it was just the stress and sleep deprivation. It couldn’t be who I thought it was. Impossible.
Shifting my Camry into park, I grab my bag and step out into the cold, dark night. A shiver runs up my spine and goosebumps down my arms. It’s fairly quiet in the lot and I glance around. The wind blows and a nearby tree limb shakes with the gust, pulling my attention upward. Shit. It’s a full moon. I don’t know what it is, but these nights are never good. Totally jinxed from the get go.
I lock my car and wrap my arms around myself, the chill from before working its way to my bones. The gravel crunches under my shoes. Snap. I glance around and find nothing. Again with the shivers. The lot appears empty but it almost feels as if I’m being watched. I jog the rest of the way up the path. I’m not sticking around to find out.
“Carly, where are the meds I ordered for Seventeen?”
“I ordered them like you and Dr. Callahan asked.”
“Well, they’re not here, and the patient needs them within the hour.” Greta flips the chart shut and pins me with a hard glare. “You need to stay on top of these things. I’d expect this from a rookie, but you’ve been here too long to let things like this get by.”
“But I did order them like you asked.”
“So you’re blaming pharmacy? Just stop. Save it. I don’t want to hear it. Doesn’t matter who screwed up. It’s your patient, your responsibility.”
“I’ll go down to pharmacy, see if I can find what happened. I’ll be back as soon as I can, but can you cover my patients?” Her brow raises and she blows out a breath as if I’m the one inconveniencing her.
“I guess. Just hurry back. I’ve got things to do, too.”
I nod, not bothering to dilly dally. When Greta is in a mood, you just bite your tongue, grin and bear it. She’s such a bitch, but she’s a good nurse and has been here twenty plus years. It’s a bad idea to piss her off.
I click the elevator button repeatedly as if somehow that will bring the car up faster. It’s quiet on the floor. Visitor hours are up and most patients are resting for the night. My shift has barely begun and it’s off to a crappy start. I can only hope the rest of the night goes better.
Ding.
The doors slide open and my gaze flicks up as I step inside. I gasp. What the fuck?
“Are you stalking me at work now?” A lazy grin spreads across Derek Taylor’s face. You’ve got to be kidding me. “Look, I told you I’m not interested. Please take a hint before I file a restraining order.” I growl with irritation. I turn and press the button for the basement.
Derek pushes off the wall from where he leans. His bright red shirt pulls across his chest, and tattoos peek out from the sleeves. Tight jeans mold his legs and tuck inside black combat boots. His brown hair falls forward and rests just above his eyebrows. Only a man with his confidence can pull this off and look pure male. He oozes sex and I only wish I wasn’t covered in these horrible scrubs. With no makeup and hair pulled into a braid, I’m sure I look simple and plain. I’m angry at myself for caring what he thinks.
“Pretty sure of your siren skills, aren’t you?” he grins, sticks his tongue out, and flips the stud once. “Maybe I’m here to see someone else?” Of course. He’s not here for me. My cheeks heat with embarrassment for having such foolish thoughts.
“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” I tap my foot and will the floors to rush faster. The numbers change all too slowly from four to five, then five to six. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. The numbers are going up. I’m in for the long ride down to the basement.
“Carly. Would you look at me?” I glance to my left. He winks. “I’m not here to see anyone in particular. I’m here to volunteer.” It’s then I notice the guitar case.
“I thought you played drums.” He steps closer and I can’t help but back up until my spine touches the hard wall. He beams a lazy grin and pins me with those chocolatey eyes.
“There’s so much about me you’d never guess. I’m more talented than you’d ever imagine. Shame you don’t want to give me a shot.” He punctuates his point with a roll of that silver stud over and across his lips. The intensity of his eyes holds my complete attention. I lick my lips. He’s close but not close enough. I want him to kiss me and that’s a bad idea. I clench my hands against the rail, as if that will help.
Ding.
The doors slide open and he backs out leisurely; a cheeky smile plays at his lips. His eyes dance with delight as if he knows he’s turned me on, and that pisses me off further.
“Later, mama!” He calls out, and turns to strut down the hallway. I can’t think of a clever comeback before the doors slide shut.
“Shit!” I shout into the empty
car. He gets under my skin and he knows it. I don’t need this right now. The night is off to a bad enough start and I don’t need the distraction of drummer boy volunteering two floors up.
I step out of the car when it finally arrives at the basement and hustle to the pharmacy. I turn the corner and shout in surprise as my face hits a wall. What the—? No. Not a wall. My gaze travels up the broad chest of muscle to land on the ice blue eyes of Mr. Dreamy Doctor. Shit, double shit!
“We’ve got to stop meeting this way.” His hands are at my arms and steady my frame. “Maybe slow down a little? Enjoy the journey?” He teases and through his day old scruff pops two dimples. God, I’m such a sucker for dimples.
Finally, I regain my ability to speak and step back to return his smile. “I’m so sorry, my head was somewhere else. Honestly, I’m much safer than I appear. I only seem to crash into you.”
He chuckles a deep, solid sound and it turns my insides into a puddle of goo. Seriously, he can’t be for real.
“I’m sorry. We haven’t officially met. I’m Garrett Brooks, just started my residency with the surgical floor.” He holds his hand out and I place mine inside, returning his warm smile.
“Carly Reynolds, RN in oncology. You’re a long way from home.”
His brows knit and smile falters. “I am. How’d you know?”
“Oh, I only meant—surgeons don’t usually venture off their floor—Eight. Never mind, that was stupid.” I shake my head. Smooth, Carly. Way to go, making Doctor Smiley all sad.
He scrunches his face in the most adorable way and scratches at his thick blond hair. How he made it through med school with all that hair is beyond me. “I guess I’m a little more homesick than I thought. I moved from Chicago three weeks ago. It’s where I went to med school and all my family is there.”
“That’s tough being away from home, but you’ll love Arizona winters. You can pretty much wear shorts year round. You can rub that in when everyone back home is shoveling snow,” I offer with a grin.
He nods. “I’m looking forward to it. Not that I’ll have much time outside these walls.” He glances over his shoulder. “Well, I should get back upstairs. I’ll see you around, Carly from Oncology.”
“Nice to meet you Dr. Brooks.”
“Just call me Garrett, please.”
“Garrett.” God, even his name tastes good on my lips. He winks and walks away. I feel a blush creep up my neck. I’m glad he’s already halfway down the hall and not a witness to my school girl reaction.
I check my watch as I head toward the pharmacy. Oh, shit. Greta is bound to be on my case all night. There’s no way I’ll be back upstairs within a time frame that meets her approval. Full moon night shifts are always a bitch. Every. Damn. Time.
“Luis . . . Lights out bud.” I try for an authoritative tone, but this kid’s got me wrapped around his finger. Fourteen-years-old and battling cancer like a champ. He’s also quite the little charmer and I know for a fact he’s working me and the other nurses over for extra game time and popsicles, but we don’t care. He’s that good.
“Come on, one more hour. Please? I did chemo and took naps all day. I’m not even tired.”
I check his vitals and mark them on his chart before I meet his pleading eyes. “I don’t know . . .”
A knock at the door interrupts. It eases open and those chocolate eyes fill me with irritation. Derek gives a little wave and has the decency to look sheepish.
“You need to leave. You can’t be in here.”
“What?” He looks as if I’ve personally insulted him and I roll my eyes. His gaze leaves mine and travels to Luis and he gives him a nod. “I came in here to see if this kid wanted his ass handed to him in a game of Madden.” Shit.
“Ha! I’ve been stuck in a hospital bed for three weeks. You’re getting your butt handed to you.” Luis grins. Derek makes his way inside, leans his guitar case against the wall, and pulls over a chair to sit next to Luis.
“Nurse Carly, please can I have one more hour? I finally have someone to play me.” Luis bats those eyes and how the hell can I turn down his simple request? I send one last glare at Derek.
“Yes, please, Nurse Carly.” Derek flips his tongue piercing at me and I hold back the urge to roll my eyes.
“Okay. One hour. I’m setting my alarm and kicking him out when it goes off.” I point a warning finger at Derek. “Let me see your badge.” I nod and he hands it over. I check to verify he has the volunteer clearance to be left in the room and he does.
“Sweet!” Luis beams and I know I’ve made the right choice. Derek better be good to him, though something tells me he will. “Here’s your controller.” Luis hands the extra to Derek.
“Thanks. I gotta warn you, I’m pretty good for an old dude. I play lots of Xbox on the road.”
“Road?”
“Yeah, I’m in a band. Maybe you heard of us? Three Ugly Guys?”
“Shit!” Luis shouts.
“Language,” I chide as I jot a few final notes in his chart. I may also be stalling to listen in on their conversation.
“I’ve heard of you! Holy crap! I can’t believe Derek Taylor is in my room playing Madden with me!” Luis usually plays the cool teenager card, so the fact he’s this worked up over Derek’s arrival is entertaining to watch. He’s not even trying to play it off.
As I gently shut the door the sure sounds of smack talk and laughter follow me out into the hall. That Derek is making my favorite patient’s night warms my soul. He may be a famous rock star but right now he’s using his powers for good. There just might be more to Derek Taylor than I originally thought.
I check on my other patients and get sidelined with a little girl who’s having pain management issues. I don’t even hear my alarm go off and by the time I’ve finally got her calm and back asleep it’s just shy of midnight. I’m sure Derek’s long gone by now, but I should check on Luis anyway.
Hand on the knob I hear noises through the door and pause. The soft sounds of guitar and singing drift through the walls. He couldn’t still be here. Could he? I ease the door open and peek inside. What I see melts any remnants of ice frozen around my heart. Derek is strumming, guitar cradled in his expert arms, as his fingers dance nimbly across the strings. It’s a song I don’t recognize, and he sings soft and low. His voice isn’t perfect, which somehow makes him more endearing.
Luis holds two drum sticks and moves them over a worn white circular pad he’s balanced on his lap. Luis’ movements are awkward and off beat, but it doesn’t seem to bother Derek. His eyes are closed as he sings. A trace of a smile falls into place between lyrics.
I slip inside and wait until the song ends before intruding upon their moment.
“Bravo!” I clap and offer a sincere appreciation.
Derek shoots Luis a worried look.
“Busted.” He tells Luis before he meets my gaze. “Sorry, I know we’ve gone way past bedtime. Luis wanted to learn drums and we totally lost track of time. My bad.”
“It’s okay, just don’t let it happen again.”
Derek places his guitar back in its case and Luis tries to hand back the drum sticks.
“Nah, man. You keep those, and the practice pad. I’ll be back in a few nights. If that’s cool with you?” Derek slings his case over his shoulder and Luis nods.
“Yeah, that’s cool.” He must have regained his nonchalant teenage attitude while I was gone. I’m sure he’s more than excited.
“Okay, boys. Lights out, Luis. Derek, I’ll walk you out.”
Luis yawns and turns to his side. I flip the lights as he wraps the blanket around himself. Derek follows me out of the room and toward the bank of waiting elevators.
“You better come back. You can’t make promises like that if you don’t plan on keeping them. It means a lot to a kid like Luis.” We stop and he presses the down button.
“I know, Carly. I know exactly how much it means. That’s why I volunteer here.”
“Sorry. It’s just, Lui
s is a special kid.”
“He is, I can tell.” He reaches out and touches my arm with the tips of his fingers. His eyes are somber and stormy when he speaks. “He’s going to be all right? He’ll get better?”
I wish I could give him an answer, but the truth of the matter is I don’t know. We do the best we can for our patients but we hold no magic fix. It’s a part of the equation I’ve learned to accept. Derek’s eyes darken when I don’t respond and his fingers tighten around my arm. I don’t think he realizes he’s doing it.
“Derek. I don’t know. But I can tell you he has some of the best doctors in the world working his case. With the type of cancer he has, we have to wait and see. He’s doing great with this round of chemo and hopefully it works. It’s a process but he’s getting the best care possible.”
He nods, releases my arm, and the teasing glint comes back to his eyes. “So, you still set on not giving this hunky bastard a little lovin’? Maybe we could find an empty room or a supply closet and get busy?”
I punch him in the arm and he pretends it hurts. My lips pull into a smile and I shake my head.
“You’re horrible. Get out of here and go home.”
“Would you believe me if I told you this place feels like home?” He’s teasing but something in his words cause me to study his features. His relaxed body language, his apparently genuine smile, it does seem he’s way more comfortable in a hospital than any visitor should be.
Ding.
The elevator opens and he backs inside a half step so his body blocks the sensors. He reaches a hand out.
“Friends, then? If you don’t want to fuck me, maybe we should be friends? ’Cause I like you, Nurse Carly.” He wiggles his brows and I let loose a small laugh. I place my hand inside his much larger one. My insides tingle with the touch.
“Friends it is,” I say and shake his hand.
His smile widens and he drops my hand to back further inside the car.
“I’ll see you soon.” He winks and the doors begin to shut. “’Night, Carly.”