by Chris Zett
The tension in Emily’s expression had softened a bit after the sandwich, but Diana still doubted hunger had been the reason for her hyperventilation. What could she do to help her?
“I’m here if you want to talk about it.” Diana rescued the squished napkin from Emily’s grip and squeezed her hand.
“Thanks. I know,” Emily said with a smile. A real smile this time. “I just need to digest all this for a bit. Let’s drive back.”
Arriving at the house after another silent fifteen minutes, Diana wasn’t keen on immediately hitting the road again for the next couple of hours. “I need to stretch my legs and clear my head before we leave. How close can we get to the sea?”
“Our land has only steep cliffs. Even as a child I wasn’t so stupid to attempt to climb down there. But our neighbor has a natural dip and added some stairs. I hope they’re still standing.” Emily led the way around the house and through the trees to the cliffs.
The moonlight was barely enough to navigate the dark columns guarding the sea. Emerging from the tree line, Diana gasped and stopped to take in the panorama. Night had fallen, and the few pale clouds lingering on the dark velvety background only enhanced the beauty of the stars. The unbelievable amount of stars. The moon had just risen, and the light glinted on the waves rolling to the shore. It was insanely romantic. Resisting the urge to touch Emily, Diana stuffed her hands into her jeans pockets.
After a few minutes of silently walking westward, Emily stumbled, and Diana reached out to steady her. She was reluctant to let go, and Emily seemed to feel the same. They continued holding hands and adjusted their stride as if they’d done this a thousand times before. As promised, the cliffs lowered, and a wooden handrail signaled the beginning of the stairs.
Emily shook the handrail and tested the first step with her foot. “Seems sturdy enough. I guess the neighbors visit their place more often than my mother did.” She slowly climbed down.
“Be careful.” Diana followed the dark silhouette, relying more on touch than on sight. But the wood under her left hand was solid, and the steps were even enough to navigate without accident.
By unspoken agreement both turned east, toward the moon, and reached for the other’s hand again at the same time. Diana enjoyed the silence that felt deliberate rather than uncomfortable and thought about the state of their relationship. Should she bring it up or wait for Emily?
They were both scheduled to work the night shift again tomorrow, and Diana wanted to at least acknowledge their tenuous bond before they returned to the clear boundaries at the hospital.
Would that be too much for Emily, who was clearly preoccupied with the death of her mother? She claimed to be unaffected, but the hyperventilation incident earlier had looked very much like a panic attack to Diana. Obviously, handling the boxes had been emotionally taxing, whatever Emily said. Was it fair to add to that stress? The answer was easy. No, it wasn’t fair. She could postpone her own need to process. Her discomfort paled in comparison to the turmoil Emily must be in.
After maybe fifteen minutes, they reached a stonier part of the beach, and, still acting in silent synchrony, both turned to head back and reached for each other’s hand simultaneously.
“I like it here. The fresh air, the sky, the stars. I’ll miss this when we’re back in the city.” Diana sighed.
Emily hummed in agreement. “Me too. Waves settle me. I could watch them for hours and never grow tired of them.”
“That’s how I feel about the stars. At first, you think it’s a static picture, but if you watch them for hours, you see the movement, every star and planet in its own course and speed, but still in perfect harmony. Like a dance.”
Emily hummed again but didn’t comment further. She sounded relaxed. After a few more steps, she sighed deeply. “We should talk about it.”
“About your mother?” Diana appreciated that Emily made the first step to opening up.
“No. About work. About…about us, what we are to each other.” Her voice was nearly a whisper, and she kept looking at the sand.
“We’re friends now and on our way to more.” Diana made it a statement, not a question. “And I’d like to see where this is going between us. You said you wanted that too, at the club. Is that still true?”
Emily’s hand in Diana’s tensed, but she didn’t let go. “On our way to more.” She said the words as though she had to try the taste of them. “I’ve never been friends…much less involved with someone from work. I’m not sure how our personal relationship will affect our work relationship.”
That hadn’t been the point Diana wanted to make, but she accepted that it could be difficult for Emily. “I can only guess how it’ll be. In the band, I worked and lived closely with my partner and later ex. It was sometimes difficult when we disagreed on songs; we fought and said things we shouldn’t have. In the end, it came all down to respect. We respected our opinions and made it work.”
Emily dropped Diana’s hand. “That’s different. We’re not in a band. We won’t have time to work out our different opinions with fights or discussions. Medicine is not a democracy. In the end, you’re still a resident, and I’m responsible.” Emily’s voice had turned cold again. She took a few steps back toward the water.
Diana couldn’t make out the details of Emily’s expression, but she didn’t seem angry; to Diana she actually looked a little lost. “I know. That’s where the respect comes in. I don’t want to take advantage of our relationship to get privileges. I respect your position as my supervisor, your knowledge and experience. I wouldn’t expect you to treat me differently from the other residents.”
Emily moved closer to Diana as a wave swept farther inland than the others. “You’ll resent my scrutiny. No matter how much I like you, I’ll still have to check everything you do. I can’t trust you just because we’re…you know.”
The water flowed over Emily’s feet, leaving the sand around her wet and full of holes. It retreated before it reached her own shoes.
Working with Emily, Diana had already realized she wouldn’t do anything halfway. “I know, and I wouldn’t expect you to do anything different. And we can still be professional about our interaction at work. I believe I know my limits and when to ask for help. I wouldn’t sacrifice my patients’ health or lives for my ego. Your job is to teach me and prevent me from doing harm, and I won’t resent you for it. And that leads us back to mutual respect.” Diana looked directly into Emily’s eyes. It was important for her that Emily saw her sincerity. “I hope you can respect my integrity and work ethic even if you can’t trust my knowledge or experience yet.”
Emily held her gaze and nodded. “I do respect you.” She looked at Diana for a moment before she lowered her head, shrouding her face in darkness. “I can think of a million ways this won’t work. I think it would be easier to just remain colleagues for now, without any further complications.”
Pain stabbed Diana behind her sternum like a knife. It wouldn’t be easier for her. Probably not for either of them. “I don’t think it’s possible. I like you and have witnessed different sides of your personality outside work. Even if you go back to treating me the way you did during my first week, I won’t forget what happened between us.” Desperate to connect again, Diana reached for Emily’s hand and intertwined their fingers. “I don’t think we can go back. And wouldn’t it be better to have someone you can trust to know you, to care about you?”
Emily squeezed Diana’s hand. “You’re right. I can’t go back. This is important to you.” It wasn’t a question. “And to me too.” She walked on and let their joined hands swing between them.
Relief flooded Diana and swept away the pain in her chest. “I know that this is neither the right time or place, but I want you to know I’m very attracted to you. I love spending time with you, and even if we seem different on the surface, I feel we have a lot in common. I’d like to explore that attraction if you want to, whenev
er you’re ready.” Her heartbeat had picked up during her confession and drowned out the constant beating of the waves against the small rocks in the sea. She hoped that Emily wouldn’t notice the sudden clamminess of her hands.
Emily stopped walking again, but this time she didn’t let go of Diana. Stepping closer, she looked into Diana’s eyes. Her gaze seemed searching, but Diana couldn’t tell what she was looking for. Honesty? Affection? Diana hoped she conveyed both.
“I’m feeling the same attraction, but I don’t know when or if I’ll be ready for it.”
Diana’s stomach lurched, but she didn’t say anything since Emily sounded as though she hadn’t finished yet.
“You’re right. We can’t go back.” Emily was so close that her breath caressed Diana’s cheeks. “I’m not sure if we should go forward either. There are so many reasons we shouldn’t. I’m definitely not ready for anyone at work to know about us. Being the object of gossip and speculation is unacceptable.” A hint of desperation colored the last words.
Diana shared her concerns; that was the last thing she wanted too. In a closed community like a hospital, there was a distinct possibility they would end up being the talk of the week until something juicier came along. She was willing to take the risk, but she needed to accept Emily’s boundaries.
She locked her gaze with Emily’s. “I know what you mean. I certainly can’t promise you that this won’t happen, but we can minimize the chances. We’re responsible adults, not hormonal teenagers. No one will know our thoughts unless we tell them. We’ll just keep work separate from whatever else happens in our life.”
Emily came even closer, invading Diana’s personal space and bringing the already-familiar hint of rosemary with her.
Waiting for her next move, Diana deeply inhaled the soothing scent mixed with saltwater.
Emily raised their joined hands to her sternum and reached with her free hand around Diana’s shoulder and tangled it into her hair.
It felt as if they were dancing to the rhythm of the waves, so Diana hugged her around the waist.
“I don’t want to end up like my mother. Always afraid what others think.” Emily spoke close to Diana’s ear. It tickled, sending shivers down Diana’s spine. “Always choosing the rational and secure options and finally dying alone.”
Diana drew her closer, and Emily caught her breath. “You’re not alone.”
“Can we go slow?” Emily whispered.
“As slow as we need to,” Diana whispered back. Her lips brushed Emily’s earlobe. She pressed them together in an effort to resist kissing the soft skin.
Emily sighed and turned her head, inviting Diana closer.
Giving in to temptation, Diana placed light kisses down the slender neck and back up toward Emily’s lips.
When she reached them, Emily kissed her back with rising intensity, nibbling and sucking her lips, growing bolder with every second.
Heat enveloped them and melted Diana’s bones. She gave herself over to the sensation and got lost in the kiss.
Minutes or hours later both were out of breath; Diana’s hair was completely mussed, and Emily’s T-shirt crumpled where Diana’s hand had roamed over her back.
Diana groaned. “I think we have to work on this going-slow stuff.”
Laughing, Emily swatted her arm with one hand. “Maybe slow is overrated. Let’s race back, okay?”
“Okay.” This time, Diana let her set the pace and followed her back to the house.
Chapter 14
Emily rushed into the staff lounge and took the only seat still available between Ian, the attending currently on the day shift, and Liz, her partner for the night. Letting her gaze sway over the group of tired-looking doctors and PAs, Emily wished she belonged to the half of them that was ready to go home for the night.
Directly opposite her, Diana smiled in greeting.
The innocent gesture released a rush of adrenaline.
Don’t blush! Emily pulled her notepad and pen from her pocket and turned to Ian, who had started his report. His monotonous voice relaxed her enough to focus. Using an insane amount of willpower, she kept her gaze on him. He resembled a spider with his gangly long arms and legs and his unfashionable thick glasses.
“Have a good night. See you tomorrow.” Ian stood and waved to his fellow colleagues. The rest of the day shift followed him like eager ducklings. No one wanted to linger any longer than necessary.
Having survived turnover without embarrassing herself was step one. Step two would be worse.
As everyone stood to tackle the new shift, she remained rooted to her seat. The burden of doubts and worries weighed heavily on her and pressed her deeper into the cushions.
“Liz, do you have a minute?” Proud of her even tone, Emily half turned to her left.
“Is this about your family emergency? Are you okay?” Her eyes full of concern, Liz sat back down.
“No, no. Work.” Emily swallowed. “It’s about work.”
“Sure. What can I do for you?” Liz blew on her still-full mug of coffee.
“I… You… Usually…” Emily clicked her pen between each word. Last night on the drive back to Seattle, the conversation she needed to have had been clear in her mind. Now only snippets remained in her memory like a rare glimpse of a road sign in the fog.
Her head tilted to her side, Liz slightly raised her eyebrows and waited.
Click. “We should restructure the supervision of the residents.” Click. Click.
“What do you mean?” Liz sipped her coffee.
“Usually, I take on the new residents.” Click. “But maybe it’s time to reconsider that approach.” Click. “Share the responsibility.” The thought of giving up control had her breaking out in a sweat.
“Okay.”
“What do you mean, okay?” Click. Emily had no idea if Liz understood her request. She barely made sense to herself. Click.
Liz reached over and gently pried the pen from Emily’s hand. “We’ve worked together for quite some time. Six years, seven? And I never saw you do anything halfway. Always demanding mathematically impossible two hundred percent not only of your residents, but of yourself too. No one can keep this up forever. So, okay, let me take over some of your workload.”
Her first instinct was to protest. Blaming the workload as the reason hadn’t even occurred to Emily. She only wanted to step back as Diana’s supervisor and certainly not because it was too strenuous. The problem lay in separating work from her private life and feelings, but she couldn’t say that, so she nodded.
“How do you want to do that?” Liz expression was open, friendly. Not at all judging.
Asking for help had never been Emily’s strength. From an early age, she had learned to solve her problems independently. But Liz’s easy acceptance made it surprisingly painless. “Could you please take over as Diana’s supervisor?”
“Diana? I hadn’t expected it to be her.” Smiling, Liz leaned back.
“W-what do you mean?” Did Liz suspect something? Emily forced herself to hold her gaze, even though she wanted to jump up and pace.
“Nothing. I’d love to help.” Liz handed back Emily’s pen and stood. “See you later.”
Diana stepped out of the hospital and blinked as the sunshine hurt her eyes. After a twelve-hour night shift surrounded by artificial lights, she wasn’t up to more brightness. She searched for her sunglasses in her backpack and heard more than saw someone stepping up close behind her. “Sorry.” She moved to the side of the entrance she was blocking. When the other person didn’t go past her, she turned around.
“Hi.” Emily had her sunglasses in place, but they couldn’t completely conceal the pale purple shadows under her eyes.
Had she slept at all since yesterday? Diana hadn’t.
They hadn’t returned to Seattle until well after midnight and had gotten separ
ated when Diana had stopped for gas and missed getting on the same ferry as Emily.
Keyed up from their talks and too much caffeine on the road, Diana had played drums until sunrise to clear her head.
Emily didn’t look as though she’d found more rest.
They hadn’t gotten to work together today, always missing each other like passing ships in the middle of the night. Diana didn’t know if it was Emily’s intention or something else that had paired her for the night with Liz.
“Hi.” Diana searched for something meaningful to say, but her overtired brain wasn’t very original this morning. “Are you driving home?”
“I’m walking. It takes me a few night shifts to get into the rhythm, and I’d rather not kill anyone on the street in the process. And you?”
Diana laughed. “I used to be a night owl, but it seems I’ve lost that trait over the last few years. I’m with you. Do you want to walk through the park together?”
They reached the park after a few blocks. Luckily, it was still relatively empty. Most outdoor enthusiasts would arrive later, so they nearly had the park to themselves, except for a few early-morning runners.
“Maybe I should plan to get a good run in tomorrow morning after work,” Diana said as the third runner overtook them.
Emily playfully hit her on her arm. “Shush. Don’t make any plans. You’ll attract catastrophes to work tonight.”
Diana snorted. “I can’t believe it! You’re superstitious.”
“No, I’m not. It’s not superstition; it’s the law. You know that.” Emily tried to remain serious, but a twitching corner of her mouth gave her away.
“Like sitting down with something to eat and wishing for a ten-minute break?”
Emily nodded. “Exactly. As soon as you say it out loud, an ambulance arrives.”
They both laughed, and the tension that had been building all night lifted from Diana’s shoulders. Emily hadn’t retreated into her shell.
“Speaking of something to eat… Do you want to go for breakfast?” Diana wasn’t hungry, but she wouldn’t mind spending more time with Emily.