by RJ Nolan
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. None of my business anyway.”
Riley didn’t miss the sudden distance in Sam’s voice. She was surprised how bad it made her feel. “No. It’s fine to ask. It’s just embarrassing.” She fiddled with the tray that sat between them. “I injured my shoulder.”
“And?” Sam leaned back against the bench and rolled her hand in a “go ahead” motion. “Get to the embarrassing part.”
Why did you even bring this up? Riley met Sam’s gaze and saw nothing but humor sparkling in her eyes. Lighten up. You’re turning into Uncle Rielly. “Okay. But no laughing.”
“No way am I promising that,” Sam said with a grin.
Riley mock-scowled, making Sam laugh outright. “I’d just come home from a very long shift. Exhausted, I fell asleep on my couch. I’m not sure what woke me up, but I was still kind of groggy, and it was pretty dark in the living room.” She turned on the bench to face Sam more fully and drew one leg up under herself. “Anyway, I rolled over and happened to glance at the back cushion of the couch. A humongous spider, this big,” she made a circle with her hands the size of a small plate, “was perched right there, barely two feet from my face.” She shuddered. “I hate spiders.”
Sam grinned. “Wow, that big, huh? Must have been some amazing super spider.”
“Who’s telling this story?” Riley asked.
Sam snickered. “Sorry, go ahead.”
“I screamed and grabbed for the first thing I could reach, which turned out to be a big, thick coffee table book. I swung it at the blasted thing. Must have swung harder than I thought.” Riley’s face and ears went hot. “But it was a big spider!”
Sam’s shoulders shook with repressed laughter. “Got it. Really big spider.”
“Anyway, the book hit the cushion and then bounced back at me, and the momentum knocked me right off the couch. I bashed my shoulder on the coffee table on the way to the floor.”
“Ow.” Sam grabbed her own shoulder. “That must have smarted.” Sympathy showed in her vivid blue eyes. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”
Riley rubbed the shoulder she had injured. “Still aches occasionally, but otherwise it’s fine.”
Laugh lines appeared at the corner of Sam’s eyes. “I do have one question for you.”
Riley narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“Did you get the big, mean spider?”
“No! I searched for its squished body but never found it. For weeks afterward, every time I sat on the couch, I just knew the dang thing was lurking somewhere, just waiting to jump out at me. And I couldn’t even swing a big book at it, ’cause I couldn’t pick it up with one hand.”
Sam burst out laughing.
“I told you it was embarrassing,” Riley muttered.
“I can just picture you swinging this huge book at this little bitty spider.” Sam mimed swinging a book. “Whack. Whack.”
“I’m telling you it was huge. Biggest thing I’ve ever seen. Probably a mutant.”
Sam wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “So you don’t have anyone at home to protect you from vicious, mutant spiders?”
That almost sounds like a pick-up line. Riley gazed at her, wondering about her intention. Sam had this little half smirk on her face that Riley couldn’t interpret, and her eyes seemed to twinkle with some repressed emotion. What’s the likelihood she and her sister both are gay? She’s straight. And has no idea you’re not. “No, just me…and my big book.”
Sam threw her head back and laughed.
The beeping of Riley’s watch alarm broke the moment. She glanced at her watch in surprise. It was later than she thought. “Now I do have to go.”
The smile dropped off Sam’s face. “Oh. Okay.”
Riley stood and picked up the tray with the trash from their lunch.
“I can take that back,” Sam said.
“That’s okay. I’m heading in that direction.”
They walked to the door in silence, and Sam held it open for Riley. “Thanks for lunch.”
Riley gazed up at her and smiled. “You’re very welcome.” After a shaky start, their time together had turned out to be a lot of fun, even though she’d told the embarrassing story on herself. “Maybe we could do it again sometime.”
A bright smile lit Sam’s face. “I’d really like that.”
Riley fished in the pocket of her lab coat and pulled out a small notebook. She wrote down her personal cell phone number and handed it to Sam. “You’ve got therapy on Monday, right?” When Sam nodded, Riley continued, “I’m the primary in the trauma unit all week, so I can’t promise I’ll be available, but call me when you’re done with therapy, and maybe we can grab a quick lunch.”
“Sounds like a plan. See you then.” Sam waved and headed down the hall.
Riley watched until she had limped out of sight, then went back to work.
Chapter 15
Sam leaned back against the wall outside the physical therapy department and scrolled through the contact list in her phone. “Third time’s the charm.” Her two previous attempts to connect with Riley had failed. On Monday, every call had gone straight to voice mail. On Wednesday, Riley had answered but was called away for an emergency before they could make plans to meet. Sam crossed her fingers and touched the screen. The phone rang: once, twice, three times. Bummer. The phone rang a fourth time, and Sam expected to hear the click as it switched over to voice mail. No sense leaving a message. If she’s busy, she’s busy.
“Hello, Sam.”
Sam started at the sound of Riley instead of the recording she’d been expecting. “Hey. Glad I caught you. How’s it going?”
“It’s been a crazy week. Just when I think I’ve seen it all, people find new ways to hurt themselves…and others. I’ve lost track of how many hours I’ve spent in the OR.”
Hearing the fatigue in Riley’s voice, Sam pushed aside her disappointment but couldn’t rid herself of the worry that followed in its wake. She glanced down at the bag sitting near her feet. It would have to wait. “I understand if you’re too tired to meet for lunch. Maybe next week?”
“Actually, you caught me on the way to the cafeteria. I’m free right now. Don’t know how long the lull will last, but I need to get something to eat while I can.”
While Sam had great respect for the importance of Riley’s work, she was still concerned about the long hours. “I’m done with therapy.”
Muted voices and the clatter of what sounded like the banging of plates and trays filtered through from Riley’s end of the phone.
“Give me a few minutes to get over there, and I’ll join you in the cafeteria.”
“Let’s meet in the arboretum instead.”
Not this again. Stifling her irritation, Sam said, “I can walk over to the cafeteria.”
“I’m sure you can.” Riley hesitated, then continued, “To tell you the truth, I could really use some peace and quiet.”
“Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”
“You’re not. I wouldn’t have answered my phone if I didn’t want to see you.”
Sam smiled, surprised at how relieved she was by the simple reassurance. “I’d like to see you too. I have a surprise for you.”
Dead silence answered her.
“Riley? You still there?”
“Yes. So what can I get you for lunch?”
Sam grimaced. No sushi. “Could you grab me a club sandwich, a bag of chips, and a bottle of water? Oh, and a chocolate cookie or a piece of chocolate cake. Anything chocolate.”
“I can do that,” Riley said. “I’ll see you in a few.”
A grin split Sam’s face as she disconnected the call and picked up the bag at her feet. “I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”
* * *
Sam stepped into the courtyard that housed the hidden sanctuary and let the tranquil atmosphere wash over her. She smiled at the now familiar bronze statue of the little girl, arm upraised, a butterfly resting on her palm. Spo
tting a flash of white through the foliage, she headed in that direction as quickly as her leg would allow.
“You got here fast,” Sam said as she brushed a large banana leaf out of the way.
The white-coated woman on the bench glanced up at her with a frown.
“Oh. Excuse me.” Sam backpedaled and left the stranger in peace. It was the first time she had seen anyone else in the arboretum.
The sound of the door opening drew her attention back to the entrance. Ah. There she is. She limped toward Riley. “Hey. Glad you could make it.”
“Hi, Sam. Not to be rude, but I need to eat before I get called again.” Riley moved toward the corner where Sam had just encountered the stranger.
She put a hand on Riley’s lab coat covered arm. “Our usual spot is taken.”
“No problem. Come on.” Riley led them to the opposite corner of the arboretum. Pushing aside the leaves of a giant bird of paradise, she revealed two benches facing each other.
Between them was another life-size bronze stature that appeared to be the same girl as in the main courtyard. She was kneeling amidst a riot of brightly colored live flowers. Bronze butterflies covered her lap, and exquisitely detailed wings sprouted from her back.
“I really didn’t think of it when I saw the first statue, but I wonder who the little girl is,” Sam said.
“That’s Sissy.” Riley pointed to a small brass plaque. “Her parents had this arboretum built and also donated the money to expand the children’s wing of the hospital.”
Sam checked out the plaque. In memory of our angel, Sissy Flowers. A lump formed in her throat. “That’s so sad.”
“It is.” A shadow passed over Riley’s face. “I can only imagine the anguish it would cause a parent to lose their child.”
This was not how she wanted to spend what time they had together. She had hoped to make Riley laugh.
Sam joined Riley, propped her cane against the bench, and set the bag at her feet. As unobtrusively as she could, she pushed a fuzzy ear back into the bag. She plucked the sandwich off the tray Riley had put down between them. “Thanks for the sandwich.” She pulled some money from the pocket of her sweatpants and offered it to Riley, who shook her head.
“My treat.”
“But you paid last time.” Sam offered the bills again.
“It’s the least I can do. Now let’s eat.”
Sam was already coming to recognize that stubborn tilt of Riley’s chin. “Thank you.”
“You’re—” Riley’s stomach growled. She flushed and placed her hand over her belly. “Excuse me. I haven’t had a chance to get anything to eat since late last night.” She grabbed a small container, popped it open, and dug into her lunch.
Another salad? After not eating all day? This one looked a little more substantial than the last, but not by much. Shaking her head, Sam concentrated on her own lunch. Now you know how she stays so slim.
Riley finished off her salad. “That hit the spot.”
“Would you like to share my cookie?” Sam pulled the wrapping off her chocolate fudge cookie, broke it into two pieces, and held out half.
Riley stared at the cookie as if she was considering the offer, then shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“You sure?” Sam waggled the cookie enticingly.
“I’m sure. You go ahead.”
Your loss. Sam polished off the cookie in no time, brushed the crumbs off of her T-shirt, and wiped her hands on a napkin. She wanted to give Riley her gift before she got called away. When she picked up the bag, she made sure that the contents were not visible. “Before you have to go, I have a surprise for you.”
Riley eyed the large bag.
Sam turned to block Riley’s view of the bag as she reached inside. Gift in hand, she turned back toward Riley and held it up.
* * *
Delighted laughter burst from Riley. “You brought Izzy for a visit.” She reached for the teddy bear.
Sam grinned. “This isn’t Izzy.”
Riley dropped her hands in mid-reach and looked more closely at the bear. While dressed the same as Izzy in a police uniform with hat and utility belt, this bear was different, its fur much lighter than Izzy’s dark sable.
“She’s Izzy’s sister,” Sam’s brow furrowed for a second, “or if you prefer, her brother.”
“Oh. You have two of them.”
“Huh? No. Riley, I got her for you.” Her smile wavered. “If you want her…”
Riley’s gazed darted between Sam and the bear. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had given her a gift. And certainly not anything like this. Emotion flooded her throat, and it took her a moment to find her voice. “Of course I want her.”
When she took the teddy bear from her hands, Sam’s smile returned, brighter than before.
Riley stroked the bear’s soft, silky fur. “What’s her name?”
“I don’t know. She’s yours. You need to give her a name.”
Riley studied the bear. What should I name you? Her eyes lit on something purple sticking out of the bear’s utility belt. A flashlight? It looked as if it had been an addition to the bear’s attire. She tugged the item free and realized it was a mini-mag light. “What’s this for?”
A little half smirk appeared on Sam’s face. “Well, this bear is meant to be your protector. What good would she be without a bright light to scare away huge, mutant spiders? Or at least provide you with some light so you can whack them.”
Riley guffawed, then slapped her hand over her mouth. Aunt Margaret would faint dead away hearing you bray like that. She pushed away the intrusive thought. She was having too much fun to care.
Sam met her gaze and held it for just a moment. “She’s also good at keeping bad dreams at bay,” she said, the humor gone from her voice.
Unexpectedly moved by the care apparent on Sam’s face, Riley felt tears prickle at the corner of her eyes. She hid her face in the bear’s soft fur until she had regained her composure. Hugging the bear to her chest, she looked up at Sam. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Once you give her a name, maybe we can set her and Izzy up on a play date sometime?”
Riley laughed. What an unexpected surprise you’re turning out to be. “How about if we adults go out to dinner sometime?” She shocked herself with the spontaneous invitation. Then she reminded herself of the as yet unfulfilled promise, made months ago, to start enjoying her life. Maybe Sam was just the person to help her do that. Judging by the look on Sam’s face, Riley wasn’t the only one surprised.
“I’d like that. A lot,” Sam said. “When?”
Suddenly nervous, Riley stroked the bear to give herself something to do with her hands. Although she had issued the invitation, it was a big step for her to allow someone into her private life. “I’m covering in-house this weekend. It would have to be next week when I’m on back-up call.”
“That’s fine with me.” Sam smiled. “You tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”
“I know a great place that has really fresh sushi,” Riley said.
Sam’s mouth twisted for just a second. “Ah…”
I knew it. “You don’t even like sushi—do you? Why didn’t you say anything last week?”
Two spots of red stained Sam’s cheeks. “I like it okay as an occasional thing.”
Riley arched an eyebrow. “Oh. You mean like once every five years?”
“Maybe once a year,” Sam muttered, her blush deepening. “But it was fine. Really. You were nice enough to bring lunch. And I didn’t say what I wanted.”
“I’m sorry. I should have realized that sushi isn’t everyone’s thing.” At least she was flexible enough to eat it. You couldn’t even accept half a cookie. Self-disgust rose up in Riley at her inability to overcome a lifetime of restrictions. She poked Sam in the shoulder. “Next time say something. Okay?”
Looking chagrined, Sam nodded. “Um… So how about Ita—” She shook her head. “Chinese food? Do you like Chinese food?”
“Chinese would be great.” The buzz of Riley’s phone sounded loud amidst the quiet setting. “Sorry.” She pulled the phone off her belt and checked the display. “I’ve got to go.”
Sam stood with the help of her cane and picked up the tray. “I’ll take this back,” she said, in a firm, don’t-argue-with-me tone.
Riley narrowed her eyes but forced herself not to protest. “Okay.”
“Oh. I wasn’t thinking about you going back to work.” Sam snagged the now empty bag from the bench. “I can keep the bear until we meet for dinner.”
Riley’s arm instinctively tightened around her bear. You gave her to me. I’m not giving her up. “No. That’s okay. I’ll take her with me. She’ll just have to go back into the bag for a little while until I can put her in my office.” And hopefully no one will notice her.
That settled, they headed for the door.
“Thanks again,” Riley said, hefting the bag in her hand as they stepped out into the hall. “See you later.”
“You’re welcome. See you.”
Several steps down the hallway, Riley remembered their dinner plans and turned back toward Sam. “I’ll call you later, and we can plan when to meet for dinner.”
Sam waved in acknowledgement and sent Riley on her way with a bright smile.
Chapter 16
A short rap on her office door jolted Riley’s attention from her paperwork. The door swung open before she could get up.
Claire strode into the room. “Hi, Riley. How’s it going?”
Riley bit back a groan. If Claire was here, it meant one thing: she wanted something. Usually, Riley wouldn’t care, but tonight she had plans. “Fine. Just catching up on the never-ending paperwork before I head out.”
Claire had befriended her when she’d joined the staff, or so Riley had thought at the time, thrilled that there was another female trauma surgeon on staff. For once, Uncle Rielly had been right. He had always harped on the fact that colleagues were never truly your friends.
