“Tomorrow the new nurse is starting, right?” The resident to my right asks.
“Thankfully.” I say under my breath.
I look up to my resident. “We need to rehydrate our patient, I want you to monitor his heart rate. We’re going to reset his shoulder.”
“What about his leg?” my resident asks.
“I messaged Ortho for a consult,” I explain, grabbing the X-ray and elevating it to see where the fracture is. The shoulder is out of place and the patient looks to have a fractured wrist on his other hand, thank goodness. I motion for the resident to pick up his good wrist and as a well-oiled machine we silently count down to three and put his shoulder back in place. Our patient yells out, but he’s silenced by passing out.
Must be from the pain.
“Blood pressure?” I request.
“Stable, there was an understandable increase during the reset, but it’s now leveled out, sir.”
“What do we have here?” Dr. Matthews, the orthopedic head on shift, walks in and commands.
I hand him the X-ray of his right leg, and he nods, removes the cloth over the wounds on his legs. He whistles, then looks back at the X-ray. I hand him the tablet with the patients’ chart.
“How long before I can take him to the OR?” Matthews asks. “I would like to squeeze in official X-rays. I love that Grayson’s team has a portable, but I want to get all the nooks and crannies.”
“Give me a few minutes, I want to get some of these artificial wounds treated. He has a fracture to the right wrist, and that will need casting. We’re giving him fluids for hydration.”
“What got him in this predicament?” Matthews asks.
“Hiking and took a fall.” I blurt as I put topical ointment on the lacerations on his chest.
“Fractures to the right lower quadrant ribs, they appear to be clean cuts and not invading any organs. But you may want to get a CT as well to verify that before you take him into the OR.”
“Good idea. Are we done here?” Matthews asks gruffly.
“Unhook him, so Doctor Matthews can take him.” I instruct the intern.
“Yes, sir.” He turns and pulls the bags off the pole and places them beside the patient.
Three hours later, my feet are shuffling into my bedroom and I fall face first onto my bed.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but when I wake up, there is bright light coming through the curtains of my bedroom and my dog laying on the other side of the bed. I’ve grown used to the night shifts, but when it’s crazy in the ER—I always come home feeling like I worked a full twenty-four-hour shift.
I run my hand down my face and groan as I roll to my side to grab my phone.
Three missed calls. And seven texts.
All from the same person.
I’ve become annoyed more recently by the lack of understanding of what my responsibilities are. The fact that she doesn’t get that my job is not a passing phase, that it’s a career, brings my level of frustration up more and more.
I don’t bother with reading the texts or listening to the voicemails. I pull up Karin’s contact and press to call her as I walk to the back door to let the dog out.
“Finally, there you are. Where have you been?” she answers, sounding exasperated that I’ve inconvenienced her by not answering until now.
“Sleeping. I had the late shift last night.”
“You want to meet for lunch today?”
“Yeah, can you give me thirty minutes?”
“But it’s lunchtime right now?” I can tell she’s pouting, which just irritates me a little more.
“I need to shower, Kare. Meet me at the Corner Bakery in thirty minutes.”
“You mean you won’t be picking me up?” she asks.
“Karin. You’re hungry now, and if I was to drive all the way to your place after I showered, that will prolong you from eating. It makes more sense to meet there, as the bakery is the halfway point. Can we just agree to that?” I run my palm over my face in annoyance.
She doesn’t immediately answer, but I hear a rustling from her end.
“Fine.” She says. I can tell she’s annoyed, which makes me a little happy.
I go through the motions and take my time getting ready. I’m at the bakery when I told Karin that I would be and find her already seated at a table by the window. She’s staring at her phone, unaware of my approach, so I observe her for a few minutes.
Her short, perfectly cut straight blonde hair sits above her shoulders. She has a small nose that rises to a point, I thought it was cute at first, but the more I’ve gotten to know her—puts me off with how her attitude is. We’ve been dating for six months and I’m feeling that our relationship has run its course.
We met through a dating site, since I don’t have time to meet people organically anymore. And she portrayed herself as a fun, pet-loving woman, only a few months later to be the complete opposite. She hates coming to my house because she thinks it smells like a dog, which it probably does, since I have one.
She looks up from her phone and smiles, which makes my feet move toward her. I lean down and kiss her cheek before sitting across from her.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi. How are you today?” I ask.
“I’m famished. I took the liberty and ordered for you; I hope you don’t mind.”
Actually, I do.
“Thanks.” I reply tightly.
“What’s on your schedule today? Care to take a drive and go to the city tonight? I hear a new club opened, and it sounds fabulous.”
“I can’t. I’m on the late shift again tonight.”
“Ugh, why do you always spend so much time at work?” She crosses her arms over her chest and asks.
“Because that’s my job.” I copy her stance.
“You’re always there, can’t you get shorter shifts?” She asks.
“That’s not how being a doctor works.”
“That’s not true. My doctor only works from nine to five, he’s never working in the middle of the night and only sometimes on the weekends.”
“There are different kinds of doctors, you know that. And you also knew my job and the type of hours that I work when we first started dating.”
“I hoped that it would be different after a few months. Like maybe we could settle down, I don’t know—move in together?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” I shake my head.
“And why not?”
“Because I don’t think we’re there yet.”
“Says you.”
Our food comes at the perfect time and we’re silent as we eat. Once lunch is finished and I’ve paid the bill, I excuse myself from the space to get some errands done before having to go back to the hospital. She protested and tried to bargain with a way for us to hang out, but I haven’t done laundry in two weeks, or grocery shopping since last week.
She’s my girlfriend, and it’s ridiculous that I’m making up lies to avoid spending time with her. I know that I should just break ties with her and go our separate ways, but I’m also apparently a glutton for punishment.
“Doctor Quinn, can you please join us in welcoming our new nurse?” Someone peeks their head around the corner from where I’m standing at a med-cart reviewing a patient’s chart on my tablet.
I set it down and put on a smile. Reminding myself that I’m happy to have another competent medical professional who will hopefully know their shit. I’ve heard the new nurse graduated top of her class and held high accolades from San Francisco General.
There’s a small crowd of people gathered in the center of the Emergency Room, and they’re all talking excitedly around the new staff member. I make my way to the crowd and wait for my turn.
Then suddenly, as if I’m struck by lightning, my eyes meet the new nurse and my feet are cemented to the floor.
Well, I’ll be damned.
Kindra Mason.
4
Kindra
“And this is our chief. This is Dr. Qui
nn.” A kind resident introduces, motioning behind me.
I whirl around and hold my breath as I prepare myself to come face to face with my old love.
My Rogan.
Our eyes meet and I can see the shock on his face.
After a moment where it seems as if he forgets where he is, he shakes his head.
“Nice to meet you,” he steps forward and offers me his hand. “And you are?” he asks.
My smile changes and suddenly I’m feeling like someone punched me in the stomach. I know that he recognizes me, but the fact that he’s playing it off as if we’ve never met, hurts.
“Nurse Mason, Kindra Mason.” I say, all eyes are on us.
“Nice to meet you. There are charts at the station that you can get briefed on by one resident, and then I suspect that you will be on shift all night?”
“Yes, sir.” I nod.
“Very well. I need to do rounds. Jackson, you’re with me.” He looks around me and motions for someone beside me to follow him.
Just like that, my emotions come to the front and all the hope that I had is gone.
What was I expecting? I should have known after how I left the reception I would get wouldn’t have been the best.
Only I wasn’t expecting the full cold shoulder and that he would pretend to not know me.
The years have been good to him. He fills out the scrubs very nicely. His features are chiseled, blue eyes which were once generally glazed by the smoke are clear and bright blue as the sky, and his once shoulder length bleached blonde hair is now styled short. He looks even better than he did back in high school. I didn’t see a wedding ring, but a man that good looking can’t be single.
I shouldn’t have left all those years ago. I shouldn’t have turned my back on him or what we had.
I swallow my pity and shake my head. I need to focus.
I did as he said and reviewed the charts of the beds in the ER. The ER doors slide open and shut many times through the night, and I work side by side on half of the beds with Rogan and his residents.
We don’t do small talk. We work and then we chart.
He has been cold and has barely looked at me, unless it was to instruct me to do something. And I didn’t give up. I stayed persistent with being in his space, remained on his heel, and made sure that my presence was known.
Which I could see he noticed by the ticking in his jaw whenever I approached. There is a nurse shortage in this hospital and he needs me, whether or not he likes it. The other nurses that work here are exhausted and I’m here now to make everyone’s lives easier.
At the end of my shift, both Rogan and I step out of the hospital doors at the same time.
“How have you been?” I ask which stops him.
“I want to be clear. I don’t know what you’re doing back here. But you can’t be. I’m not the same man that you knew, and I’m certainly not interested in who you’ve become.” He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets.
“Rogan?”
“No.” He puts his hand up to stop me. “We’re not doing this. You had your chance, you lost it. We work together, nothing else. Nothing more.” He walks past me.
“Ro!” I call out.
He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even acknowledge me any further.
“He looked right through me. Not at me, not around me, but as if I didn’t even exist.” I say into the receiver. “I was like a ghost to him.”
“What did you expect? Him to welcome you back with open arms and to push you up against the wall? I think it will take a little more than your mere presence for him to want to do that,” Cass tells me.
“I know, I know. I was just hoping that even though I fucked up for leaving without a word or any explanations that he would at least—”
“He has every right to be pissed and you know that.”
I take a deep breath. I know that what she’s saying is true. I shouldn’t even think differently. But a girl can always hope.
“This is the last straw, and you plucked it right out of the bale,” my father scolds pointing his long-wrinkled finger at me from the hospital room doorway. “You’ve continued to be a disgrace to our family name, and this just tops it. We will not be able to rebound from this. You are so reckless and I’m sick of it!”
“But dad!” I protest, attempting to move, but my stomach cramps.
“No! I’m not listening to any more of your excuses! As we speak, your belongings are being placed in your car at the house and you will no longer be living under our roof.”
“Daddy! It wasn’t my fault! There was another driver, they hit us!” I retort.
“You were high, Kindra. Your judgement was impaired, and you know damn well that excuse is bullshit. You also know that you were on one last chance with us.”
“This isn’t fair, I made a mistake!”
“You’ve made a lot of those, but this time, this time, you made a pretty monumental mistake. This mistake affects more than you. I will not deal with hiding this secret of yours. You’re out of here, as if you just moved out of town. You need to re-evaluate your life a little and get your shit together. Maybe this all is just a sign.” He shakes his head.
“But where will I go?” I cry.
“That’s no longer my worry.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You’re eighteen now, and it’s what we’ve been telling you for a while now. You’re on your own. You are no longer our concern.”
“What’s that mean, daddy?” I grip the hospital bedsheets.
“You’re an adult now and we want nothing to do with you. You’ve disgraced our family time and time again. We’re done. Finished.”
He storms out of the room and I’m left all alone. Alone with nothing. He’s right. I’ve made so many mistakes and I always thought I would have another chance.
I’ve messed up in a big way. My mess up will not just affect me forever, but also Rogan.
Rogan.
Where’s Rogan?
He’ll never forgive me.
I shoot up in bed covered in sweat.
I haven’t relived that moment in a long time. I tried to lock up the past in a box and shove it into the back of the closet of my mind. Never to be dug back up. But being back in Sunnyville, I’m opening old wounds that I tried to bury for so long.
I haven’t seen or spoken to my parents since that day.
Maybe that dream is a reminder that I have business to tend to. Since my failed attempt with Rogan didn’t go so well, maybe I should try my parents.
5
Rogan
I’ve been running through the motions while teaching some of my med students this afternoon. I take a full day once a week to work with some medical students for their hands-on clinical. And today, I couldn’t tell anyone what I’ve said or done.
My mind is on her when it shouldn’t be.
There are too many questions in my head and not enough answers.
I should have looked into the new nurse joining our staff before her first day, then I wouldn’t have been so alarmed and dumbstruck when our eyes met.
Now, she is interfering with my day to day. I cannot afford to do that. To be distracted while I’m with patients.
I need to get down to the bottom of why Kindra is here. Otherwise, I will probably drive myself crazy.
I look at the clock and then back to the students.
“That’s it for the day! I believe a few of you are pulling the night shift, so make sure that you’re ready and alert. And I will see you later.”
Everyone runs out of the room, and I’m left in the silence with my own thoughts until Dr. Denise Slater, the head of Peds sticks her head into the room.
“Hey good lookin’, what cha’ got cookin?” She smirks, walking in and taking a seat in the front row.
I smile, appreciating the interruption of my thoughts.
“What are you doing slumming it down in the classrooms?” I ask, stepping away from the whiteboard.
“I
have a labor lecture down the hall and noticed you standing in here looking like someone killed your puppy. Everything okay? You and Malibu Barbie break up yet?”
“Why? Would you take me up on that date if we did?” I ask.
“Oh honey, you know that you and I would be horrible as an actual couple. Besides, I don’t date, only fornicate.” She smirks.
“How could I forget?” I grin, remembering the nights that we spent together as residents.
We would be horrible together and that’s why nothing ever amounted to anything more than some no strings attached fun.
“No really, what’s up? You seriously looked a little forlorn when I walked by. Hate being a real doctor now?”
“How much time do you have? I can give you the Cliffs Notes version or the novel?”
“I want the Cliffs Notes. You know how I do when it comes to long stories,” she says sitting down.
“Your eyes roll back into your head and you start dreaming of Christian Slater and you causing all sorts of mayhem in a high school, blowing shit up.”
“Ah, to be a Heather.” She gazes up at the ceiling with a smile before she looks at me with a straight face. “So, what’s cracking?”
“So, the girl that I was in love with from high school, she’s back in town.” I say point blank.
“Wow. That’s a blast from the past. Does she bring back old feelings?”
“Yes and no.”
“Oh, that sounds complicated.”
“It is. She’s clearly turned her life around—”
“Like you did,” she points out.
“Right. Anyway, she’s now one of my nurses in the ER.”
“You’re shitting me!” Denise sits forward in interest. “Tell me more. Do we need to make sure the on-call room is open for you from now on?”
“I pretended that she didn’t exist, she tried to get my attention and now, all I can think about is all the questions that I have unanswered.” I explain, ignoring her question.
“How long has it been?” she asks.
“Eleven or twelve years.”
Heartburn: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) Page 2
