by Renee, DC
I was grateful for her and for Jay, and I was drawn to them through our mutual love of Tracy, as well as our grief.
I hadn’t known how to break the news to Amber. That’s a lie; I could have just called her, but I knew that entering the contest—for her—was a sign. It was a step for her in a direction I knew I wasn’t going. I’d entered because I was tired of feeling guilty for the burden I knew I was causing Amber. She felt my pain, and she took it on like it was hers. And I was tired of getting pushed by Hadley. It had been an “alright, leave me alone, and I’ll enter the damn contest” moment more than anything. And once the words were out there, that was it. I’d committed. And I wasn’t the type to back out.
“Noah!” Amber exclaimed. “That’s wonderful news.”
“It’s just a contest, Amber,” I responded. “I knew it meant a lot to you, so I did it. And damn Hadley kept pushing me too,” I muttered quietly.
“Oh?” Amber said with a smile, not missing anything. “Is she the one in charge? The one you kicked off your property?”
“I didn’t kick her off my property. I just told her I wasn’t interested.”
“So she came back, huh? Good for her. Good for you.”
“Not quite,” I admitted.
“Then what?” she asked, and I ended up telling her everything that had transpired, and how I came to agree to be entered into the contest. “I’m only doing this to prove to you and to Hadley that this changes nothing. I’m not someone special, Amber. I’m just a guy doing my job, and I’m not always good at it.”
Amber had a smile on her face during my entire story until I saw it slide right off with that last sentence.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Jay, who’d been silent this entire time, beat her to it. “Son,” he said, and that word always hit me in a special way. He shook his head. “Her death isn’t your fault. It’ll never be your fault. Just as it’s not your fault when anyone dies. It’s not the contest, Noah. It’s the fact you are willing to do it. That right there is a good step, one you probably don’t even realize. That’s fine. We’ll take baby steps. And in time, maybe you’ll move on to leaps. This is a good thing. Trust Amber; trust me. Invest in this contest, follow through, and let that girl help you,” he added with a wink.
“It’s not like that. She’s just a genuinely nice person. A good friend.”
“I bet she’s pretty too,” Amber chimed in.
I didn’t answer because I knew what she was getting at, and that was a step too far. But that just showed you what amazing people Amber and Jay were. Here, they were tiptoeing the line of me seeing another woman when my wife—their daughter—should be by my side. They truly just wanted the best for me. I didn’t know how I got so lucky with them. But as I said, that was a step too far. The contest was one thing, but that was too much.
“No,” I said a little too forcefully. I was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde ever since Tracy’s death. Nice guy one minute, but the littlest thing could set me off, turning me angry and defensive. I had to take a deep breath and remind myself who I was talking to before I turned down my tone. “Tracy was it for me. My forever, my always, my one. You said Hadley was pretty. Yeah, Amber, she is. From what I know of her, she’s probably someone a lucky guy could take home to meet the parents. But that guy is not me. I’ve already been lucky. I’ve already had the pretty girl you introduce to your parents too. Married her, loved her, and will continue to do so for the rest of my life. Hadley is a friend, and that’s all she’ll ever be.”
“Oh Noah,” Amber started, her voice breaking with pain as a tear rolled down her cheek, but Jay put a hand on hers.
“Let the boy be…for now,” he told her. “He entered the contest. Baby steps, remember. We’ll get to those steps later,” he said.
She nodded to him before turning back to me. “Alright, Noah, dear. Thank you for indulging me with this contest. I truly think it’s a good thing. Just…just keep an open mind, will you?”
“For you, Amber, I will. But in return, no expectations, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, but we both knew it was a lie. I just hoped she’d be all right with it.
Hadley
“WE’RE GOING TO need your picture,” I told him. “Oh, in your scrubs,” I said, fantasies of being scrubbed down by Dr. Hottie while in scrubs playing in my head. God, I really liked that play on words. “No, wait, your coat. That’s more professional. Makes you seem more distinguished, I think,” I rambled.
“Hello to you too,” Noah said, interrupting my dirty train of thought. My mind had already started thinking of him in a lab coat…just a lab coat.
“Oh, uh, sorry,” I responded sheepishly.
I’d called Noah because of the contest. I didn’t necessarily have to call. I could have texted or emailed even, but we were friendly-ish, and friends called each other. He’d picked up and said, “Hi, Hadley,” and I responded with telling him we needed his picture.
In my defense, I was at work and had to get to the point quickly. Sure, keep telling yourself that, Hadley. All right, all right, fine, I admit it. I was immediately distracted by sexy Noah pictures. I kept thinking of the types of pictures featured in the Hot Dad contest or, better yet, on book covers. Mmm, Noah would make a good book cover model.
“What’s a book cover model?” Noah asked.
Oh, shit…I’d said that out loud. “Oh, uh, it’s just a type of picture, but come to think of it, it’s not the right picture for this contest,” I said, backtracking.
“Okay, start over. What picture?”
“Sorry. Hi, Noah. How are you doing today?”
“Oh, uh, I’m alright. We had some good news on a patient of mine. Officially in remission.”
“Oh, Noah, that’s great,” I said.
“Yeah,” he responded. “Yeah,” he repeated as though he was pondering the news himself. “It is great. Days like today make me happy about the job I have. Speaking of the job, I need to get to my next patient, so what’s this about a picture?”
“Oh, crap, sorry. I didn’t think about your work schedule. Okay, I’ll try to be quick. The entry deadline passed, so we finished vetting all the entries, and we’re going to start round one of the contest.”
“Which is?”
“We have to give readers the stories to vote on. Next to each story, we’re adding a picture because it makes it more personal. That way, it’s not just some words on paper. Readers can actually relate to the person they’re voting for.”
We’d gotten so many entries, and such vast ones, that after going through them all, I didn’t think it was fair to lump people who had done true heroic acts with people whose kids had called them role models, and the other categories between.
“Good point,” Sidney had said when I’d brought it up to her. “So let’s make categories of heroes. We can do what you just said, heroic acts as one, role models as another. What else?”
“Professions,” I responded, immediately thinking of Noah. “Like doctors, police officers, those kinds.”
“Perfect,” Sidney had said with a nod. “If you think of any other categories, just run with it. I trust you.” High praise from her. Those ended up being the three major categories after I’d finished reviewing the entries with my team. There were some that didn’t quite fit, but we couldn’t keep adding categories for the one-offs. Noah, naturally, fell into the Profession category. I would have put him in all three if I had my way, but for once, I was thinking logically. As much of a role model as I believed he was, especially for his younger patients, the stories written by kids about their parents or siblings or the like were more appropriate for that category. I thought saving lives on a daily basis was definitely a heroic act, but I wasn’t sure how readers would feel about that compared to someone who had earned medals while in the Army. So, Professionals, it was. And he was a shoo-in to win. Great story, great guy…hot too, that couldn’t hurt.
“I’m not a picture person,” Noah responded, breaking me out of my thou
ghts.
“Unless you’re an Instagram model or something, most people aren’t,” I countered.
“I didn’t sign up for that.”
“You kind of did,” I told him.
“I don’t want my picture plastered all over the place.”
“You don’t google yourself, do you?” I asked, smiling.
“I can hear your smile through the phone, Hadley,” Noah said. “That has to be a bad thing.”
“And I can hear your frown, Noah,” I told him, smiling even wider now. “News flash, Dr. Hottie, your picture is already all over the place.”
“Doctor what?” I needed a damn muzzle. Me and my freaking no-filter mouth.
“Oh, please, you know you’re good looking. Put a picture of you up, along with your story, and people will be voting.”
“I didn’t think this through,” he mumbled.
“Maybe not, but too bad now.”
“I think I need to drop out.”
“No!” I screamed so loud that I saw my co-workers’ heads turn toward me. “No,” I said again more quietly. “This is good for you. And I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you read and approve of your blurb before we publish it. And as for a picture, how about I take it? That way, you can make sure I’m taking something you are comfortable with, and I have a lot of patience. We can take as many pictures as you need until you like one and agree on me using it.”
“I don’t like this,” he told me.
“I do,” I said a little too excitedly. Once again, my mind was in the gutter…way down in the gutter. Pictures plus Noah…oh man, the dirty snapshots floating through my head. If Noah knew, he’d say no.
“Shit, Hadley, I have to go.”
“Is that a yes?”
“We’ll talk later,” he said before hanging up.
“Well, that wasn’t a no,” I said out loud to no one in particular. And the opposite of no was yes, but I figured he’d agreed by default. Now it was time to plan my picture session. And what a session it would be.
Noah
“YOU’RE ENJOYING THIS way too much,” I told Hadley.
“That I am,” she admitted with a wide smile.
I wasn’t surprised when she’d shown up at my place two days later armed with a backdrop—yes, you read that right, a backdrop—and a camera.
“You have all your doctor stuff here, right?” she asked.
“Depends what you mean exactly by doctor stuff,” I responded with a teasing smile.
“Don’t get smart with me. You knew I was coming, so you better have your scrubs, your lab coat, and you definitely better have your stethoscope ready.”
“You do know that doctors don’t necessarily have a medical kit at home, right?”
“What?” she asked. Turning around, she carried the black backdrop in her hands, and the shocked look on her face was almost comical.
“Relax, Hadley, we have the basics, and yes, I have a stethoscope, but what the heck do you need it for?”
“Did you forget we’re taking pictures?” she asked as she waved the backdrop in the air.
“I wish,” I mumbled.
“Hardy har har. Go get changed. Scrubs first,” she called out as I had already started walking to my bedroom, knowing there was no point in arguing.
That had been one hour earlier, but it had felt like years. I felt like I was under a damn microscope, which was odd, considering I was the one doing the examining. But under Hadley’s watchful gaze, along with her directions, I was actually self-conscious.
“Of course, I’m having fun,” she responded. “You’re not?” she asked as she snapped another photo.
“Really?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. “Do I look like I’m having fun?”
“Damn, that’s hot,” she said as she snapped another picture.
“Me annoyed is hot?” I asked, very confused.
“You angry, all alpha and whatnot, like some sexy hero in a romance book, is hot.”
“But I’m not angry,” I countered. This time, she raised her eyebrow. Okay, fine, I could see the appeal. As I said, I appreciated Hadley’s beauty. Even made for nice viewing, but that was the extent. “Are we done yet? I’ve taken a million pictures in scrubs, in regular clothes, even in this damn coat,” I said, pulling at one side of it. “Please, enough, Hadley. Have some mercy.”
“Mercy would be if you took off your shirt and let me take some pics of you in the coat with nothing under,” she responded with a smile. Somehow, in the short time I’d known her, I’d gotten used to her honesty—her crude honesty. “What?” she asked innocently. “Sex sells,” she added with a shrug. “And you, Dr. Shields, are sex in a lab coat.” I just shook my head at her antics. “Alright, alright, fine. But you owe me a sexy pic…” She trailed off, mumbling something I couldn’t quite decipher, but it sort of sounded like she said, “For my personal use.”
“What?” I asked.
“Huh? What? Nothing. I’m drained. All that picture taking really wiped me out.”
“All you did was take some pictures,” I argued. “I was the one posing like a circus monkey.”
“And what a cute circus monkey you turned out to be,” she said with a wink. I couldn’t help but laugh in response. “It’s not easy getting your scowl at just the right angle to make this picture work,” she told me. Once again, I just shook my head.
“Fine, I could use something to eat too. Let’s go,” I said.
“Oh, goody,” she responded and clapped like a little kid, and I found myself laughing again. I seemed to do that a lot around her. She was carefree, said whatever was on her mind, and was fun and funny.
We made our way to a burger place near my house. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t Hadley being okay with having a burger. I had pictured her as someone wanting something more upscale. Don’t ask me why. So, it was a surprise when she said, “Oh man, I could murder a cheeseburger right now,” as we walked out of my home.
I stopped and looked at her. She was a walking, talking mystery, and for the first time in a long time, I was actually enjoying myself as she revealed each layer of herself to me. I hadn’t realized it until this moment, but Amber was right. I hadn’t been “alive” since Tracy’s death. It took Hadley’s very much alive spirit to show me I’d just been going through the motions.
So what was I going to do about it now? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I deserved to just go through the motions. I deserved “surviving, not thriving”—something I read on some random doomsday shirt once. I chuckled, imagining it was exactly something Hadley would say.
“What?” she asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“I’m just surprised you want a burger.” I couldn’t help my gaze following her body. She was fit and toned, and I had somehow thought she’d be picking at salads to keep her figure.
She wasn’t fazed by my question. “Oh man, and fries too. No, wait, chili fries. Tell me you know of a place nearby.”
“Yeah,” I said with a chuckle. “I have just the place.”
I took her to a mom-and-pop place I liked going a few blocks from my house. We walked in comfortable silence, and I noticed Hadley closed her eyes and inhaled deeply a few times. I asked her about it once we sat down to eat.
“It’s just something I’ve done since I was a kid. When I used to ride my bike, I would close my eyes and breathe in. It somehow made me feel like I was a part of this great big world. It was sort of my take on stop and smell the roses. Of course, I didn’t fully get it as a kid, which was why I did it while riding my bike. Looking back, that was pretty damn dangerous. But, oh well,” she said with a shrug. “It’s just kind of stuck. Old habits,” she said unapologetically.
I envied her freedom because I didn’t think I was ever like that. Not even before Tracy’s death. My life was great, and I was happy, and I enjoyed doing things and going places. I especially loved my time with Tracy. But it was structured. I watched what I said—a side effect of my job. I didn’t take sm
all moments like Hadley seemed to do.
For a moment, I wished I could. Or at least, I wished I had before Tracy left this earth. For an even briefer moment, I wished I could now. But it was too late for me. Too late. Tracy couldn’t stop and smell the roses because of my failure. So neither could I.
Hadley
I DIDN’T THINK Sidney would have a problem with me taking some time here and there to visit Jacob during the day. Worst case, I figured I could take a long lunch or ask for a few hours off every time I visited because there was no way I was going back on my word. But Sidney was all for it as long as I got my work done.
“I love the idea,” she told me when I asked if it was all right to visit Jacob in the hospital for a few hours every two or three weeks. “I think I’ll suggest it to the group too. Maybe everyone can pick a person who needs someone to sit with them. Doesn’t have to be a kid,” she mused out loud. “Is it safe to assume the infamous Dr. Noah Shields had an influence in this volunteering? Not that it matters because a good deed is still a good deed,” she added.
“Only in the sense that he was there when I came up with it,” I told her. “But I really did feel bad for Jacob.” I’d filled her in already on why I wanted to visit him specifically. “Seeing Noah is a bonus,” I admitted.
“Oh, no. I know that look,” she told me.
“What look?” I asked.
“The dreamy, faraway, ‘he’s so hot I want to jump his bones’ look.”
“I mean, he is hot, and jumping his bones would be nice. But this is strictly professional. He needs a friend, and I’m happy to be there for him.”
