Saving Sullivan

by Sara Hubbard

  “Don’t judge me. Eat your salad.”

  The right corner of his lips twitch, as if he’s fighting a smile.

  “Oh, there you are. I was going to ask what the hell happened to the jerk who hits on me every time I see him.”

  Like a closed flower waiting for a little encouragement from the sun, his smile blossoms. “I thought you didn’t like me hitting on you.”

  I shake my head. “Pretty sure I never said that.”

  “So you do like me, then?”

  “I never said that either.”

  He pops lettuce into his mouth and I suddenly feel like maybe I should have grabbed something green. He chews slowly, watching me as if he’s thinking of something to say. Now he seems in a better mood, I feel I have the red light to pry. Because hey, I don’t really have a filter.

  “So why the long face?”

  He licks his lips after swallowing. “Nothing.”

  “Oh, come on. I practically told you my life story on the plane and at the hotel.” Kind of…I definitely didn’t tell him about really important things, like my dad or my mom—just all superficial stuff. But he gives me nothing—nothing at all. Perhaps if he gave me something I might feel inclined to share my demons too. With a half-eaten pickle on the end of my fork I point at him “That’s hardly fair.”

  “Did you just dip your pickle in your soup?”

  “You’re avoiding the question, Mr. Hope.”

  He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, but it quickly falls back over his forehead. He leans back in his chair and I can see his white work shirt strain over his biceps. I tell myself it doesn’t affect me. But then I wouldn’t be a girl if a guy like him didn’t affect me. He levels his bright blue eyes with mine and I almost forget to breathe. There’s the smoulder again. And he doesn’t even appear to know that he’s doing it. If only I could have that talent—on the opposite sex, of course.

  “First day of work,” he says before sighing.

  “Oh. What do they have you doing?”

  “Working in the restaurant. The guy I’m shadowing is a complete prick.”

  “That bad?”

  He nods. “It’s not good.”

  I wait for him to elaborate but he just keeps eating. I hate that our conversations are so one-sided. Does anyone really know this guy? Lucky for him, I don’t let things go easily. “So is he training you? Or letting you sink?”

  “He doesn’t fucking shut up.”

  “Neither do I.”

  He smirks. “Yeah, but I’ll listen to you all day if it gets you spread eagle on my bed.”

  “You did not just say that,” I say, shaking my head in wonder.

  “And to think I’m holding back… Imagine if I said what I’m really thinking?”

  I raise a hand. “Nope. I’m good.” I shake off the thought, because imagining myself in his bed with him hovering above me makes me squirm a little in my seat. Why do guys like this attract so many girls? They’re not relationship material. They won’t ever call you after they’ve finished with you…and yet…the urge to let them consume you is so undeniable.

  “So what’s this guy saying to you?” I say, determined to stay on topic. “Is he mean?”

  He purses his lips and shakes his head. “Never mind. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” He leans forward and pushes his tray out of the way, to rest his upper body weight on his elbows on the table. “What about you? You coming or going?”

  “Just about to start.”

  “Stand up and do a spin for me. I want to see you in those scrubs, especially that tight little ass.”

  “You’re a pig.” I try to sound angry, but I break out into a chuckle. He’s back in full force and somehow, I missed his ego. I shove some strawberries in my mouth and chase them with chocolate milk. Sullivan looks at me like I’m a circus freak.

  “Are you pregnant?”

  I toss a berry at him. “Ha ha.”

  “I’ve never anyone seen anyone eat like you before.”

  “Well, I lived with four boys before two of my brothers moved out, and when I was younger they took turns cooking. Basically they threw together anything and everything that was in the fridge. Your meals were a little more organized, I bet.”

  “Organized is a word for it.”

  I wait for him to elaborate.

  “I spent most of my teens at a boarding school,” he says.

  “Really? What was that like?”

  He laughs without humour. “Took some getting used to, I suppose. It was very…militant. We’d sit down as a group, stand as a group, leave the table as a group…”

  “It doesn’t sound very fun.”

  He glances out the window. “I got used to it after a while.”

  “I don’t think I could.”

  He nods, as if musing to himself. “It wasn’t for everyone, I guess.”

  “How long did you go there?”

  “Ah…four years, I guess. Came home in the summer and at Christmas. That was about it.”

  I swallow my food and the lump in my throat and wipe my mouth with my napkin. I don’t know what to say. How could his family send him to a place like that? How could they send him away, period. Was he bad? Did they just want him to be away? My family would never have done that to me, no matter what I did.

  I say the only thing I can think of. “I’m sorry if it was awful.”

  He laughs at my empathy and drags his thumb along his lower lip. I can’t help but stare. Everything about him is sexual. We have a moment where I think he might open up, and then he’s back to being the guy who wants to screw everything in sight.

  He smiles at me with his eyes and I roll mine.

  “You know what would make me feel better?”

  “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this…”

  “Come by my cabin later and I’ll show you,” he says.

  “Okay, Sullivan. Whatever.” I move to my feet. “You know, not every conversation has to end with you propositioning me for sex. You use it to avoid real conversation and it’s kind of sad.”

  He scoffs at me.

  “Anyway, I got to go. I’ll see you around, okay?”

  He nods. “Yeah.”

  I pile my dishes in silence and walk to the trolleys to put my tray away. Of course on my way, the dishes teeter and one falls off to smash onto the floor. The whole cafeteria cheers and claps and I feel the heat climbing up my neck, all the way to my forehead. I breathe in and out and put my tray away before searching for a broom, but fortunately an old man in a white apron and a full beard comes to rescue me.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I got it.”

  I offer him a shy smile and thank him before ducking out of the cafeteria as fast as my little legs will carry me. When I pass through the door, I glance back at Sullivan who is staring back at me, his face as blank as a white canvas.

  The clinic is empty but for Alice and a guy about ten years or so older than me sitting behind the desk. He’s also in scrubs. Another student? They both smile as I approach them. Then they stand. The guy is on the short side, but still taller than me. But then I’m five three, so who isn’t? His hair and eyes are just about the same shade of black, and his skin is a dark olive. He’s Asian. And he’s kind of cute.

  “Hey Abby. Excited for your first day?” Alice asks.

  I shove my hands in the pockets of my cardigan and lift my shoulders. My focus should be on work and instead I’m caught up in thoughts of Sullivan. I want him to let me in and I worry it will never happen. “I couldn’t be more excited,” I lie.

  “Your life must be dull, then,” she says with a laugh. “This is Keo Lim. Just hired by the hotel for a one year term.” She points to me. “And this is Abby Claire.”

  I pull my hand out of my pocket and reach out to shake his hand. He takes it in his. His hand is rough, a little dry and very warm. I shake it and quickly let go.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same to you,” he says.

  “Are you a new
grad?” I ask him.

  “Just graduated in the spring.”

  “Oh, congratulations,” I say with enthusiasm.

  “You graduate in the fall?” he asks.

  “Yeah. I can’t wait. It seems like I’ve been in school forever.”

  “Amen to that,” he says, beaming at me.

  Alice stands and runs her hands down her pants to straighten the wrinkles in her scrubs. “I’m starved. I’m going to head down for lunch. Did you eat yet, Abby?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I grabbed something before coming up.”

  “Good. So just hang out here with Keo. Man the phones. Respond to emergencies. Try to stay out of trouble until I come back.” She glances at Keo. “Do you mind Abby shadowing you for a bit?”

  He smiles widely. “I think I’ll manage.”

  Alice gives a wave goodbye before sauntering away. Keo and I just sit beside each other, a little uncomfortable, glancing at each other and smiling every few minutes. The silence is unbearable. I need to fill it or I’ll lose my mind.

  “So what school did you go to?”

  “U of Vic.”

  “Oh. Good school. I went to Remerson.”

  “In Halifax?” he asks with a raised brow.

  “Yeah.”

  “Also a good school.”

  “Yep.”

  “I’d show you around, but this is pretty much it and I only started last week.”

  “Well, I guess we’re both in the same boat, then, aren’t we?”

  He nods just as the phone rings. He does a lot of uh huh and I see before saying, “If you’re unable to come down and this isn’t an emergency then it will have to wait until my co-worker comes back from lunch.” Pause. “Uh huh. Yes, I’m telling you I don’t believe this is an emergency.” Pause. “Thirty minutes or so.” Pause. “Okay. Bye.” He sets the receiver down and leans back in his chair. “We got a good one for your first day.”

  “Yeah? Tell me more.” I lean in, almost sitting on the edge of my seat.

  “Mr. Curtis woke up with a rash on his penis. He slept with a girl the other night who he thinks might have a questionable sexual history, so he’d like us to have a look at it.”

  “I see.”

  Keo chuckles. “Want to tag along?”

  “Yes!”

  “You don’t have to sound so excited.”

  My cheeks burn. “No. I mean, for the training value, of course. I don’t really want to see his penis. I’ve seen one before. I mean, no I haven’t. Well…that’s not true but you know what I mean, right?”

  I’ve never seen anyone smile so big in my whole life and I drop my head in my hands. I suck.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry for putting you on the spot.”

  Alice comes back about fifteen minutes later and I must still be blushing because she asks me why my face is so red. Fantastic. Keo must think I'm such a complete idiot. Alice drops into her chair and does a twirl before sliding in tight against the desk.

  “There was nothing good for lunch,” she says. “I swear the meals get worse by the day.”

  I shrug. I thought they were okay, but I keep this to myself.

  “Mr. Curtis called—" Keo begins.

  Alice makes a face and tips her head back, groaning. When she lowers it again to face us she puts up her hand. “Say no more. You want to take this one?”

  Keo shrugs. “Sure. Why not?” He stands and I stand with him.

  Alice reaches up to grab my shoulders and tries not to laugh. “You sure you can handle this?”

  I chuckle. “Penis rash? I got this.”

  Mr. Curtis lives on the top floor of the condo guest rooms. The elevator plays a piano version of Crazy by Aerosmith. I glance at Keo and he smirks. Slowed down and made classical, the song almost feels ominous. A hit of what’s to come?

  Keo wears a red carry-on bag of first aid supplies slung over his shoulder. I didn’t notice how broad his shoulders were when we first met, or how toned his arms are. When we reach room 612, he lightly knocks on the door. I smell flowers. When I turn, I notice a tray outside a room up the hall with freshly picked lilacs on the half-eaten plate.

  Keo knocks again and silently we wait.

  Mr. Curtis answers the door in his drawers. He’s about sixty or seventy years old but his hair is dyed a golden blonde; unfortunately, his moustache doesn’t match his hair. The wrinkles around his eyes are pronounced as he greets us with a frown.

  “I can’t believe this happened again,” he says, more to himself.

  Again?

  “Every time I take one of those girls home, something like this happens.”

  We follow him into the living room area. Keo leans toward me to whisper in my ear. “Apparently, he has a thing for hookers.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I read through the notes in his chart before we came up. He calls us to have a look at his penis at least three times a summer.”

  “Oh,” is all I can manage.

  Keo pats my shoulder and walks ahead of me. “Okay Mr. Curtis, if you could just drop your pants so I can have a look...”

  Mr. Curtis does just that. They’re around his ankles before I can blink. I’m staring at his half erect penis, and there are obvious scratch marks on the insides of his thighs even from where I stand, which is about five feet away.

  Keo slides his hands into some blue gloves and begins to examine Mr. Curtis’s penis. “Okay,” he says. He holds the penis up and tilts it to the side so I can get a good view. “Abby, come look.”

  “Yep. Sure.” I put on gloves and trudge forward, bending over so my face is thirty inches away from his cock. Yep. I really did choose this profession.

  “You see the discharge. And the difference in size between the left and right testicle. He cups the testicle and offers it to me. “Go ahead and feel the difference.”

  I sigh and reach for his testicles. “Okay. Yes. Left is bigger than right.”

  “Does it burn when you pee, Mr. Curtis?”

  “Why yes, it does.”

  “Uh huh. I’m just going to take a sample.” Keo reaches into his bag, takes out a long cylindrical specimen container and pulls out the swab.

  “You’re not shoving that thing down my dick!” Mr. Curtis snaps.

  “No. Just the tip, that’s it. I promise.”

  “I’ve heard that before,” Mr. Curtis grumbles just loud enough for us to hear.

  I decide very quickly not to probe him about that.

  Keo hands the swab to me and I stifle a groan while trying to keep a straight face. This really isn’t how I envisioned my first day. I return the swab to the container and seal it inside a plastic Ziploc bag. Keo removes his gloves and I do the same.

  “So we’ll send the sample off and the doctor will call you with the results, okay?” Keo says.

  “How long?”

  “I couldn’t say. The doctor will call you as soon as he knows. In the meantime, I would cease having sex because you could pass this on to future partners.”

  “Uh huh,” Mr. Curtis says, seemingly not happy about it as he crosses his arms over his chest, his pants still sitting in a pile around his ankles. I’m not sure why he hasn’t pulled them up yet. Clearly he doesn’t have a problem with nudity.

  After Keo educates him a little about safe sex and the possible infections he can pick up, Keo and I leave. As soon as the door is shut, I start with my questions. “So what are you thinking?”

  “Well, there are probably a few things going on right now—the worst of which is probably Chlamydia but I’m not a doctor and I can’t diagnose, so I’ll pass it on to the doc and he can deal with it.”

  “Fantastic. I guess he won’t be entertaining anymore hookers for a while.”

  Keo laughs. “Yeah. We’ll see.”

  At the end of the day I’m utterly exhausted. Somehow I’ve managed to see twenty patients in eight hours with either Alice or Keo at my side. I’ve seen everything from Chlamydia to a broken collarbone. Here I
thought I wouldn’t see much while I worked here. I’m glad to be proven wrong.

  I say goodbye to my co-workers as the nurses for the next shift arrive. Alice introduces us, and I put my cardigan back on and walk into the main hall of the lodge. To my surprise, a familiar guy all but bumps into me.

  “Hey there,” he says, smiling.

  “Dean. How are you?”

  “Good. You okay?” I almost trip over my feet and fall to the ground but he reaches out to hold my shoulders, steadying me.

  “Yeah. Fine. Just surprised to see you.”

  “A good surprise, I hope.”

  I feel my cheeks burning. Dean is dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt. This seems to be all that he wears. His hair is combed back, kind of like a heartthrob from the seventies. It suits him.

  “I have to admit...I came here looking for you. I never did get your number the other night and I kind of wanted to ask you for it.”

  “Me? My number?”

  He chuckles. “Yeah. Is that cool?”

  It’s more than cool, but instead of saying so, I just smile and shrug. He was looking for me. He wants my number. I can’t control the warm feeling I get in my stomach. This guy is a dream. His voice is soft and his face is softer. He’s confident and yet shy. He seems exactly like the type of guy who would be good for me. And to say I’m flattered is an understatement. This guy could have his pick. His father is rock star royalty, and yet, he came looking for me.

  “Mind if I walk you home?”

  I suppose he can tell by my idiotic grin that I don’t. I take a few slow steps ahead and he falls into step beside me. We don’t talk right away. I feel like I’m ten years old with him and I’m at the playground about to get my first peck on the cheek. Like I’m smitten or something, especially now I know who his father is—I’m a little shy.

  “Why did you want my number?” I ask quietly, bringing my finger up to my mouth to chew my nail.

  “I thought it was obvious. I’m into you.”

  I laugh out loud.

  “Why’s that funny?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just kind of blunt. Exactly something I would say.”

  “I don’t tiptoe around stuff. Plus, I’m not here for long and I’d like to spend some of my time here with you. You seem…I don’t know…different.”