by Radclyffe
“I see. Humans not being animals.”
“You know what I mean, Mom.”
“It’s a good idea. A lot of techniques in human medicine are applicable to veterinary medicine, and believe it or not, there’s actually some crossover the other way around. What were the two of you thinking?”
“That we’d split the summer,” he went on quickly. “I’d start here and Margie would start with Dr. Valentine, and then we’d switch.”
“Doing what?”
“Well,” Blake said slowly, “that’s kind of where I thought you could help. Like…I don’t know—whatever you need us to do, volunteering, I mean.” He grimaced. “And I don’t mean standing around greeting visitors.”
“Honey, this isn’t Home Depot. We don’t have greeters.”
“That’s good.”
“Give me a minute.” Abby sorted facts. They were both sixteen, or Blake would be in a few days. Legally they could do volunteer work at the hospital. Unpaid, but that was only fair, considering they were also completely unskilled. They were both bright, mature, and sensitive kids. “We could use a volunteer in the ER, and I bet Flann could use one in the OR.”
“Really?” Blake’s heart skyrocketed. “That would be incredible.”
“Do you have any idea what that would be like?” Abby said gently. “Those are two of the most challenging areas of the hospital. The patients we see are often very sick or seriously injured, even dying. It wouldn’t be easy, and it might be scary.”
“You do it every day. So does Flann.”
“I know, and it never gets any easier.” Abby tried not to think of the Hoffertins and the still, pale body of the beautiful young girl on the cold stainless steel table, her mother and father broken in grief. “And it’s still hard on us too.”
“I think we can do it, both of us. Please, Mom. We could help.”
“It would be mostly scut—taking things to the lab, helping the nurses change sheets and clean rooms, that kind of thing.”
“That’s okay. We’d still see things, learn things.”
“I’ll have to talk to Presley and Harper and make sure they’re all right with it. And clear it with Flann too, but I’m sure she would love another body up in the OR to help out.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Blake just about vibrated while managing to stay in one place. “I’m gonna call Margie and let her know.”
“Tell her it’s not a done deal,” Abby called after him.
“Got it.”
She smiled as his footsteps disappeared down the hall. In a few short months, he’d transformed, not just physically as he transitioned, but emotionally and psychologically. He was happy now. His happiness filled her with joy.
And his life wasn’t the only one that had changed. She thought of Flann and the night ahead. Still smiling, she speed-dialed a number and waited. “Glenn? Let’s get the newbies into the conference room and bring them all up to speed.”
Chapter Six
Mari slumped on the narrow bench across from her locker and tried to summon the energy to pull out her purse and drag her weary body down the hill, through town, and back to her apartment. Twenty more minutes of movement seemed like an eternity. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so tired. She could, actually, but then she hadn’t been just tired, she’d been drained of everything: energy, will, even hope. Not now, though. This was an altogether different form of exhaustion. This was the aftermath of a campaign waged and won. Beneath the nagging ache in the small of her back, the twinge of pain in her calves, and the faint harbinger of a headache throbbing at the base of her skull, she felt anything but hopeless. She hadn’t worked so hard in over a year, and she’d been so busy all day, she hadn’t been able to think of anything except the patients, their families, and her obligations. When she wasn’t treating one of them, or discussing a case with Abby or Jason Monroe, the other ER doc, she was supervising one of the new students. And somewhere in the midst of all of that, she’d had to meet with Glenn to review the curriculum, only to discover she had a lecture to give the next morning at seven a.m. She looked at her watch. In exactly twelve hours.
Mari closed her eyes and groaned.
“How are you doing?” Glenn said from somewhere so close behind her, Mari jumped. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bother you.”
“No,” Mari said, springing up on suddenly shaky legs. She caught herself with an outstretched arm on the lockers. “You didn’t. I was just…thinking.”
Glenn frowned. “You look a little whupped.”
“Long day.” Mari opened her locker, fished out her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. She smiled brightly—at least she hoped she looked perkier than she felt. She wasn’t sick, she knew the difference, but she didn’t want any questions about her doing the job. “Good day, though. I think I’m still on West Coast time.”
“Uh-huh.” Glenn leaned her shoulder against the bank of lockers. Mari was trying to pretend she wasn’t almost out on her feet, and she wouldn’t embarrass her by telling her the act wasn’t working. She appreciated pride, and guts. It had been a good day, different than what she was used to, but surprisingly satisfying. If she wasn’t used to eighteen-hour days she’d be beat herself. After the chaos of the mass casualty alert first thing in the morning, four bright-eyed and eager PA students had arrived on their doorstep, greener than green, and they had a full board backed up of routine patients to see. Some of them had already been waiting several hours. Glenn had planned a full morning of orientation talks and tours for the students, but patients came first. The newbies didn’t seem to mind. Their first clinical rotation and Glenn had to sort them out on the fly, get them assigned to a senior supervisor, make sure they understood the chain of command, and keep an eye on them all day. Overseeing new troops in the field whose entire orientation included little more than an exchange of names wasn’t anything new, and at least under the current circumstances, they weren’t likely to get themselves blown up if they made a mistake. But the potential was there, figuratively if not literally, for them to FUBAR a trusting civilian, and that was unacceptable. So Glenn spent the whole day with eyes on the students even though each had their own assigned supervisor.
Mari had taken to the ER as if she’d been working there forever. Glenn clued in pretty quickly that she was a natural with patients, got along well with the nurses, and didn’t ask for help unless she needed it—and knew when she did. Glenn hadn’t spent valuable time watching Mari, and if she had, she might have noticed sooner the deepening shadows under her eyes. Her mistake—one she wouldn’t repeat.
“Things went pretty well today,” Glenn said. “You’ve got a knack with the students.”
Mari smiled. “Thanks. They seem like a pretty good bunch.”
Glenn unlocked her locker, stuffed her wallet into her back pocket, and locked up again. “So far.”
“You have any worries?” Mari looked around to make sure they were alone. “I didn’t notice any obvious problems.”
Glenn shrugged. “No, not really. The usual pecking order—at the top is Antonelli, who’s overconfident and cocky, and then there’s Marcus on the bottom rung, uncertain and deferential. They’ll need watching for different reasons. Baker and Hernandez are the middlemen, both solid, not flashy but they get the job done.”
“Antonelli has something to prove,” Mari said softly, thinking the big, dark-haired, movie-star-handsome man’s attitude reminded her a little of Glenn. Although Glenn lacked the arrogance—she didn’t need it. Her skill was all the swagger required to cement her place at the top of the hierarchy. “That might come from him being older than the rest. And his military service is a plus, even if it makes him a little hardheaded.”
Glenn laughed. “He’s got decent experience, it’s true. Maybe a little too used to going it alone. Sometimes experience gets in the way.”
“Double-edged sword.”
“Many-edged sword,” Glenn murmured. “At any rate, no clear and present danger among the group.
”
“I agree.” Mari hitched her shoulder bag a little higher. “Well, I need to get home if I’m going to put together that talk for tomorrow morning.”
“I’ve got a PowerPoint, if you want it, that would cover most of it. It hasn’t been updated in a while, but it shouldn’t take long to add a few pertinent slides. Place to start.”
“I’ll take it,” Mari said instantly and pulled out her phone. “If you give me your number, I’ll text you my email address right now. This is great.”
Glenn hesitated. Flann and the hospital operators were the only ones who had it. Even Carrie didn’t have it, and they often shared rides to and from events. Come to think of it, Carrie had never asked and she’d never thought to offer. “Right. Sure.”
Mari tapped away, and a few seconds later, Glenn’s phone buzzed. She checked the text and saw an email address. “Got it.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” Mari started for the door. “I’ll be home in twenty minutes, so send it over whenever you think of it.”
“You walking?” Glenn asked. Sunset wasn’t for another hour, and even if it had been dark, Mari would be fine walking home alone. Still, unease gnawed at the part of Glenn’s psyche that couldn’t stop assessing, surveilling, hunting for hidden dangers. For the secret killers.
Mari nodded. “How did you know?”
“Because you can drive anywhere in town in ten minutes or less, and if you’re not living in town, you’ve probably got at least a half-hour drive.”
“Excellent deductive reasoning.” Mari laughed. “I’m on Elm. No car, but it’s a nice walk.”
“Wait until it snows.”
“Huh. I’ve never lived where it snows.”
“Hoo-boy.” Glenn grinned. “I didn’t notice you taking a lunch break. Dinner either, now that I think of it.”
“I didn’t even notice I was hungry.” Mari laughed. “I’m starting to now, though.”
Glenn knew for a fact Mari hadn’t taken a break of any kind all day. Maybe that was why she looked like a twenty-minute walk would wipe her out. Glenn hadn’t been planning to leave, wasn’t in any hurry to get home with nothing much to do, but she sensed Mari was working hard to cover up her fatigue. Surprising herself, Glenn said, “Me too. How about I walk down with you, and we get something to eat?”
Mari raised a brow. “Are you by any chance offering to cook, because a, I don’t think I have anything except cereal; b, I don’t really have a full kitchen; and c, I’m too famished to wait for very long.”
“That’s a thought that never passes my mind.” Glenn held the locker room door open as Mari passed by. She smelled like the vanilla soap stocked in the shower room. Nice and clean. Her hair looked as soft as black velvet. “I’m afraid my main food group is pizza.”
“That’s an easy one, then,” Mari said as they walked out into a hot, heavy July night. The air was nearly tangible, thick with the promise of rain. Odd, the air for all its weight was nothing like the blanket of toxic smog that sometimes hung over LA. “Where is the best?”
“Bottoms Up, the bar at your end of town, makes a good one, if you want a cold beer to go with it. I’m pretty partial to Clark’s, but that might be because it’s ten steps from my door.”
Mari laughed. “I’ll take the closest.”
“My place for dinner, then,” Glenn said.
“All right, yes.” Mari drew a deep breath and some of her weariness dropped away. Glenn’s shoulder touched hers every few steps as they made their way down the winding road, and that was nice too. They didn’t speak and she didn’t mind. Glenn seemed content just to walk, and she was happy for the company, even though it was unexpected. She hadn’t shared a meal with anyone in months, outside family, and then rarely. She hadn’t been to a movie or out to dinner or even had a decent conversation with another soul. She wasn’t looking for that connection now either. She’d learned not to lean on anyone once she’d gotten to a place where she didn’t have to. She would never owe anyone anything again, never put herself in a position to be unable to fight back, out of obligation or guilt, but still, Glenn’s rock-sure presence in the gathering dark was welcome, even in the silence.
*
“This is without question the best pizza I’ve ever tasted.” Mari slid a third piece of loaded veggie onto her plastic-coated paper plate.
Glenn smiled, enjoying Mari’s pleasure and the unself-conscious way she attacked her food. “I’m not gonna argue that.”
“I have a terrible feeling this might become my favorite dinner spot.”
“Why terrible?”
Mari laughed. “I might need more exercise than walking a mile up the hill to work every day if I do this every night.”
“I wouldn’t worry,” Glenn said. “You’ll do plenty of running in the ER, and besides…I can’t see as you have anything to worry about, a few pounds more or not.”
Mari felt herself blushing. The compliment was probably not even intentional, just the kind of thing everyone said under those circumstances, but she liked the idea that Glenn had noticed. And wasn’t that odd. She hadn’t even thought about anything remotely intimate in so long she’d forgotten that was even a possibility. “Thanks.”
Glenn tilted her head, a small line forming between her brows. “You’re welcome, for whatever.”
As she’d thought, Glenn hadn’t meant anything personal by the comment. Mari hid her momentary consternation by glancing around the small storefront pizza parlor. The ovens were in the rear, with half a dozen tables and two standing counters dividing the room, and big plate-glass windows on either side of the door. She was surprised to see the place was packed on a Wednesday night. She and Glenn had snagged one of the few remaining tables when they’d arrived, and now they were all full, mostly with teenagers, but here and there a family or lone adult occupied a spot. The front door opened and another gaggle of teens came in, rushing to the counter and talking all at once. A boy and girl came in a second later and drew up to the rear of the crowd.
Glenn glanced over and instantly her whole demeanor changed, so subtly Mari might not have noticed if she hadn’t been watching her for the last half hour. Glenn’s expression blanked into remote, tight lines. Her eyes narrowed and scanned the entire room before settling on the teens in front of the counter, her shoulders coiled with tension. Mari followed her gaze, trying to see what had caught her focus so intensely, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. A couple of kids jostled a couple of the other ones, comments flew back and forth too quickly to sort out, but Glenn must’ve heard something Mari didn’t. Suddenly Glenn pushed her paper plate away and slid her chair back several inches. Her body flexed as if she was about to launch from the chair.
“What is it?” Mari asked.
“Probably nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Glenn said, her flat tone clearly at odds with her words.
When a dark-haired boy and a pretty girl with long, gold-streaked curls edged away from the crowd and claimed a suddenly vacant table, Glenn walked over, leaned down, and murmured something to them Mari couldn’t hear. The kids were a cute couple, fresh-faced and wholesome, terms Mari didn’t usually think about when looking at teenagers. The girl wore no makeup and had the slightly gangly, long-limbed build that heralded an elegant beauty in a few years. She was dressed simply in a red tank top and skinny jeans. The boy’s refined good looks could have put him in contention for a modeling job in a fashion magazine, but he seemed unaware of his appeal in his loose T-shirt, baggy shorts, and typical slumped, teenage-boy posture she’d seen on her brothers.
The boy shook his head. The girl just shrugged and gave Glenn a wry smile.
Whatever they’d said didn’t seem to defuse Glenn’s hypervigilant mood. When she turned and took a step toward the group at the counter, the blonde grasped Glenn’s wrist and tugged her back with a head shake. After a second, Glenn nodded curtly and returned to their table.
“Is everything all right?” Mari could tell from Glenn’s brusque mo
vements she still was unhappy about something, and Mari’s instinct was to soothe her.
“More or less,” Glenn said.
“Who are the kids?”
“Blake Remy, Abby’s son, and Margie Rivers, Flann’s sister.”
“Wow, are they dating?”
“I don’t know,” Glenn said. “They’re tight friends, though.”
“They’re cute.”
“Uh-huh,” Glenn said, still looking as if she was ready to go into battle.
That was it. Glenn’s entire attitude emanated an air of readiness, not exactly aggressive, but prepared. Glenn’s gaze suddenly shifted to Mari, and she shivered. She wasn’t afraid, didn’t feel in danger, but ice swept down her spine. “What?”
“What’s a mean girl?”
Mari stared, then laughed softly. “You don’t know?”
Frowning, Glenn shook her head. “I guess I missed that in high school.”
“Who told you, then?”
Glenn tilted her head. “Margie. She said not to worry about the mean girls. But somebody’s hassling them, and I want to know why.”
“Oh, wow, okay. In a nutshell,” Mari said, “means girls are all about being the popular ones, and anyone who isn’t one of them is fair game for taunting and teasing.”
“Bullying, you mean?” Glenn got that look again—a spring coiling. Mari’s karate instructor when she’d been a preteen had called it a state of readiness. Watchful waiting.
“Not necessarily anything that extreme, but I suppose it depends on the person at the receiving end and how badly they want to fit in.”
“Why? What’s the goal?” Glenn asked, still looking flummoxed.
“Usually it’s about boys. The popular girls are most attractive to boys, especially older boys.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Glenn muttered.
“Don’t you remember high school? Everything’s about status, and who you date is a big part of that.”
“I wasn’t part of any of that.”