by Nella Tyler
“Well, I don’t know if I like blood, but I can handle the sight of it better than a lot of people,” I answered him honestly.
“I want to be a firefighter when I grow up!” he answered, obviously feeling that his comment pertained to the conversation somehow.
“Well, with the way you handled this, I certainly think you’re brave enough,” I replied, feeling a sense of pride, remembering how I used to tell anyone who would listen what I wanted to be when I grew up. I even remembered telling a nurse about my M.D. ambitions.
“All done!” I exclaimed after securing the final stitch.
The boy grinned as he looked at my stitching as I prepared gauze to keep dirt away from his injury. “Wow! You did good!”
“It makes you look tough,” his mother joked.
“I don’t just look tough,” Hunter responded without missing a beat, staring back at his mother with what I assumed was his best impression of a “tough-guy.”
“Oh, don’t I know it,” his mother giggled. “You take that age-old expression boys will be boys and put it to shame.” Glancing up at me, she added, “And he’s only seven.”
I laughed warmly, trying to be reassuring.
“Hey!” Hunter interjected, now staring back at me. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“A boyfriend?” I asked, grinning wildly as I tried to hide the redness I could feel burning at my cheeks. I chuckled. “No. I don’t.”
“What luck!” Hunter exclaimed. “Want to be my girlfriend?”
At this, his mother burst out laughing, but that was no help to me. I could feel my face instantly become beat red and to make matters worse, I heard the curtain slide back behind me, signaling that Dr. Pierce had also heard him.
“As honored as I am, Hunter, I think it would be better to find a lucky girl your own age. Then, you can get any girl you want!”
“You’re a guy who likes the older women, I see,” Dr. Pierce commented from behind me before Hunter could give a response. This caused him to look up at Dr. Pierce and take his eyes off me, but it didn’t lessen the embarrassment I felt.
“I try, Sir. I try,” Hunter exclaimed, completely serious.
At this, his mother burst out into another round of laughter, which was joined by Dr. Pierce. “Good man!” he answered and the two chuckled, while Hunter’s mother composed herself.
“See what I mean?” she jested, motioning to her son while staring at me with wide, somewhat apologetic eyes.
“He has brightened my day,” I answered, beaming down at Hunter as he slid off his mother’s lap.
Dr. Pierce instructed Hunter’s mother about how to care for the stitches and when to make an appointment with his primary physician to have them checked and eventually removed before the two of them left the emergency room.
I expected Raymond to hurry out like I had gotten accustomed to him doing, but this time, he lingered. When I caught his gaze, he brightened. “Cute kid.”
“He’s adorable,” I responded.
“Do you know him? You seem to know everyone around here,” he asked, seeming genuine and more personable than ever.
“Well, I grew up here,” I answered. “That’s why I enjoy this hospital so much. I’m helping people I know, a lot of whom are like family to me, but him? No. I’ve met his momma once or twice, but that was the first time I’ve ever met him.”
“I get the feeling that we might get to know Hunter extremely well.”
“As his mom said, boys will be boys, right?”
He agreed and we continued with our rotation. I couldn’t believe that what had started out as one of the most awkward situations I had ever been in professionally turned into the assurance that Dr. Pierce was starting to take a liking to me. I was convinced that he wouldn’t have had that conversation, as simple as it was, if he wasn’t getting used to the idea of me sticking around. At that time in my life and in my career, that meant the world to me.
So naturally, after work, I had only one place I needed to be to share the news: my sister Michelle’s house.
Michelle and I had always been close, but even as I took my career to heart and she started a family, it seemed that our different paths only seemed to draw us closer. For the time being, we were completely different and thus enjoyed sharing stories about our lives.
She married young, but as I walked up to her gorgeous, two-story house that both she and her husband worked hard to maintain, I couldn’t help feel an overwhelming sense of pride. She had known what she wanted and had gone after it.
Perhaps my sister didn’t want to be a doctor or a lawyer, but she was a wonderful mother and wife, and I was content to know she was happy.
I rang the doorbell and listened to the familiar sound of Kassie barreling down the hall, toward the door. Before Michelle could get to the door, Kassie threw it open. “Aunt Jenna!” she exclaimed, practically leaping into my arms. I laughed, expecting it fully and stepped backward to maintain my balance.
Michelle followed her daughter closely. Her eyes narrowed heavily and I had a feeling that both Kassie and I knew exactly what her mother was going to say.
“Kassie Marie Kent! What have I told you about opening the door for people?”
“I’m sorry, Momma,” Kassie droned as she slid out of my arms and onto the front stoop.
“If you’re going to answer the door, you have to ask who it is. If you don’t, you won’t be able to answer it at all. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Momma,” Kassie replied, sounding more pouty than contrite.
“Go on, now. We’re going to have dinner soon. Go clean up.” The four-year-old waddled back into the house, bumping into walls as she moved on her still unsteady legs.
“Too smart for her own good, that one,” Michelle teased, shaking her head as she gazed after her daughter before turning to face me. “Hi, Jenna!” She wrapped me in a hug and kissed my cheek before practically pulling me inside. “Oh, God! You smell like antiseptic,” she complained as she pulled herself away and wrinkling her nose.
I laughed. “Nice to see you, too.”
Michelle rolled her eyes. “Are you staying for dinner? If not, we’re going to eat in front of you. I’m starving.”
“Well, with an invitation like that, how could I possibly refuse?” I teased as she closed the door behind us.
“How are you doing? How’s the new job?” she asked as she sauntered down the hall toward the kitchen, where the scent of meatloaf, our mother’s recipe, wafted lazily toward the door.
“Great! From what I can tell, the doctor I’m shadowing is great, and he is letting me handle some cases by myself. I think he’s actually starting to trust me.”
“Anyone we grew up with?” she asked, sliding behind the counter as her eyebrows raised with insinuation implanted heavily in her expression.
“No,” I insisted, trying to skip the conversation altogether. My sister, bless her heart, seemed to make it her mission in life to help me find a man and thought that if I found a doctor, I wouldn’t have to work so hard at becoming one myself.
We were always different. She was the reserved, traditional girl, and I was the wild child, insistent on doing things my own way. While she wanted a family and a life wrought with children and a love she could grow old with, I wanted my career. Of course, if Mr. Right came along, I wasn’t going to turn him away, but I certainly wasn’t going to waste time looking for him when I still had to meet my own goals.
“He’s older, like in his fifties, and he’s from up north.”
“Oh,” she responded, making a face that she quickly erased for a kinder expression. “Well, if he’s helping you, I guess we can’t hold that against him.”
I chuckled. “No, he seems like a good guy.”
After a moment, I told her all about my first few days, ending with the achievement of the day. She laughed and I could tell she could see me vividly in her mind as I relayed the story.
“So, how are Kassie and Gavin doing?”
At th
e mention of her daughter and husband, Michelle’s eyes lit up and her grin widened. “Kassie is more like you every day,” she teased. “If I didn’t spend twelve hours in labor with her, I might wonder if she was, in fact, yours. She’s great, though! Smart and independent, won’t take no for an answer, which we are trying to rectify without taking away her determination and creativity. Gavin is wonderful. Poor guy has been working like crazy, though. The money is great, but I’d love to see him more.”
“Yeah, I can understand that,” I told her, even though I couldn’t draw from personal experience because in all my past relationships, I was the workaholic. “I’m sure it’s hard with Kassie, too.”
“Thankfully, she has settled into our routine and is pretty cool with anything.”
“So, not like you at all,” I simpered.
“No. Not in the least.”
At that, the front door opened and again, we heard Kassie barrel down the hall and into her father’s arms. “Hello, sweetie!” Gavin exclaimed from the other room.
“Hi, Baby!” Michelle called, coming out from around the counter to greet him. “In here!”
After a few steps, Gavin appeared in the entrance to the kitchen, holding Kassie in his arms. “Hey, Michelle.” He grinned as she reached up to kiss him. “Hi, Jenna. How were your first few days at the hospital?”
“They were great!” I answered, giving Gavin the abbreviated version of what I had told Michelle.
“Aunt Jenna is staying for dinner!” Kassie exclaimed, giggling.
“That’s great!” he replied as the four-year-old slid down his side to get ready for dinner. After she ran out of sight, Gavin returned his full attention to Michelle. “How was your day?”
“It was nice.” She grinned, and I could tell that Michelle was simply happy to have her family home. I was sure that if all of us, including our parents, could all live under one roof, Michelle would be in Heaven.
I would likely jump off that roof after a week, considering I like my peace and quiet, but it seemed that the closer her family was to Michelle, the happier and more relaxed she became.
During dinner, the conversation was monopolized by Kassie, but that didn’t bother me. The more Kassie talked, the less I had to give a play-by-play of my week thus far at the hospital.
Of course, I loved talking about my work, but after all the normal questions were out of the way, she would start to ask bizarre questions. When I was in med school, she would ask if I drink enough water and take multivitamins. When I demanded to know, what was with the inquisition, she insisted that because I’m around all those sick people, she wanted to make sure I was taking care of myself.
Thankfully, Gavin came to my aid. He was a wonderful guy, perfect for Michelle. He was a good provider and could put up with her invasive, clingy, overly traditional, Leave it to Beaver ideals. After dinner, Gavin played with Kassie, giving Michelle and I some time to be alone together.
I was helping my sister with the dishes when she got quiet. I allowed her to maintain her silence while I dried a few cups, but finally, I couldn’t take the silence any longer. “Is everything okay?” I asked, checking to make sure that Kassie wasn’t within earshot.
“Oh, yeah. Absolutely!” Michelle answered. I believed her, but still knew there was something that she was not saying.
“Then, what is it?”
“You’ll only make fun of me,” she simpered. “You’ll call me Mrs. Cleaver.”
I chuckled. “That's okay. I still want to know.”
Michelle paused for a moment before she set the dish she was cleaning down in the sink and turned toward me. “I just…I wanted to say that I am proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Cleaver,” I teased, causing her to narrow her eyes and snicker.
“Yeah, yeah! I’m serious. I am really excited for you. I mean, I got all the looks in the family, somebody had to get the brains.” This time it was my turn to shoot her a playful glower.
“Well, in the spirit of being serious, thank you. And I am proud of you, too.”
Michelle looked genuinely confused.
“Sis, look at this house! Your husband, Kassie! They are happy, healthy, and thriving because of the life you built with Gavin. You know I think getting married as early as you did was the riskiest and weirdest thing you ever did, but you made it work and that is awesome. You’re a pain in the ass, but you know how to make that quality work for you.”
“Ha. Ha.” She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I only wanted you to know how happy we are for you and that we think you’re going to do great!”
“Thank you,” I replied as Michelle wrapped me in a hug.
When everything was cleaned up and I was leaving, I couldn’t help glancing back at the house, remembering our childhood and thinking about how lucky I was to have such a supportive family.
Chapter 5
Tim
“God dammit!” I slammed my fist down on the desk, causing the wood to quiver enough to spill coffee out of the top of my mug. When everything stopped rattling, I glared at the screen and punched a few keys heavily.
I thought about calling Donavan into the office, but only grew angrier when I remembered that he was in class today and was completely unavailable for a few more hours. Fuck! I thought, but bit my tongue as I heard someone open my door.
“Is everything all right?” I heard Carly ask as she rushed into the office. I felt the back of my neck prickle as rage continued to wash through me.
“I’m fine,” I fumed, glowering at the screen as the software once again failed to do as I was instructing. I had tried to be calm, but the aggravating and unreasonable realization that the program was still refusing to work properly set me over the edge. My eyes flashed upwards towards Carly, and I screamed, “I don’t know why the fuck we pay all this goddamn money for shit that doesn’t work!”
Startled, Carly stepped back. “I’m sorry…” she answered sheepishly, her heels clicking against the floor, away from my desk.
“What the hell are you sorry for? Did you build this piece of shit? Did you sell me technological fucking snake oil?”
“Um…no…” she answered in a cowardly manner and instantly, I recognized the sense of helplessness and confusion that I used to feel when my father got this way with me.
Of course, his accent was a lot thicker and there were far more curse words, but the fear and confusion were the same. I hated when he got that attitude and now that I felt it coursing through my veins, boiling my blood and causing me to take it out on Carly, I knew I had to rein it in. I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing my eyes tightly and centering myself.
“I’m sorry, Carly. That was uncalled for. I know you were only trying to help.” When I spoke again, my voice was calm, but what I said seemed to freak her out even more. “My current, solitary wish is that I could find the person who created this hi-tech hunk of junk and bash his fucking head in.”
“Oh…well, forgive me for refusing to give you his number. If I did that, I think I might be out of a job.”
I barked a laugh, realizing how crazed I must have sounded, landing hard back in my chair, behind my desk.
“Yes, Carly, I would say that is probably wise.” I managed a grin that I didn’t mean, but expressed words that were genuine. “Seriously, I’m fine. Just frustrated. I’m all right. It looks like it’s going to be a late night for me.”
“I see. Well, try to get some rest, Mr. Meck,” she insisted before turning around and quickly slipping out the door.
“Yeah. Right. Hey, Carly, what time is Donavan supposed to come in?”
“At four-thirty, why?” she called back, sticking her head in the door. “He’s at class tonight and…”
“I know,” I snapped. “Thank you. Sorry.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him you’re in rare form today.”
“You always know what’s best,” I jeered, spreading a fake grin across my tight, aggravated expression as she returned to her desk.
Spreading my hands out over the length of the desk, I sighed, grumbling with aggravation and angst. I took in another deep breath, and as I was trying to let all that stress go so that I might be able to arrive at a new perspective, my phone rang.
When I saw that it was a North Carolina number, my breath caught in my throat. “What the hell?” I grumbled, ignoring the call and tossing the phone back onto my desk. “Leave me alone!”
The call went to voicemail, but I didn’t bother listening to it. Instead, I dove back into the issues that the software was presenting.
At least the call had served a purpose: it had reminded me of exactly what I didn’t want to ever return to, which was exactly what I needed to get back in the right frame of mind.
By the time Donavan came in later that day, I felt I was making progress, but I noticed that he stayed in his workstation anyway. I assumed he was fearful of receiving the same wrath that Carly had warned him she’d received a dose of. I felt bad about it, but now that I was making progress, I wasn’t going to jeopardize that to try to nurse her hurt feelings.
It’s no surprise to her what kind of a bastard I am, I thought, trying to ensure the thoughts about what I had done would no longer distract me.
I had almost rid myself of all feelings of guilt when my phone buzzed again, distracting me. My eyes flashed over to see if it was important, and I was annoyed to find that the same damn number was calling me again.
Probably some programmer in his mom’s basement, wanting to ask me to do him a favor and get him a job, I thought, snarling at the phone as I picked it up, but decided if I was going to answer it, I shouldn’t be immediately abrasive.
“Hello. This is Tim Meck,” I answered, hoping to God that this was somehow a wrong number.
“Hello, Mr. Meck. This is Dr. Pierce; I work at Pinehurst Medical. Is your father Phillip Meck?”
“Yes,” I answered, suddenly feeling numb. “What’s wrong?”
“Mr. Meck, I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
My stomach dropped and I fell back in my chair as though punched in the stomach. I felt all the air being forced from my lungs as my mind clouded with concern. However, I knew that if I was going to focus on what he was telling me, I would have to remain calm.