by Craft, Maggi
Two hours later I realized I was too drunk to drive, and Arden was probably already asleep. I decided to stay at the gym with Kevin until I sobered up. I finally got home a little after seven.
Arden was still awake, sitting up in our bed. Her eyes were swollen and red, and I could tell she had been crying. But I really didn’t care. She had done this to herself as far as I was concerned.
“Where have you been?” she screamed.
I looked at her and didn’t say anything. I grabbed some clothes and went to the guest room bathroom. I didn’t feel like talking to her. I may have been overreacting a little, but what she did was really shitty. It wouldn’t have killed her to pick up the phone and let me know she was gonna be late. That was just common decency. But she hadn’t because she knew I’d forgive her. Like I always did. And I would, but not right this moment.
She came into the bathroom while I was in the shower. “Slayde, what is going on?”
“I’m taking a shower.”
“I mean, where in the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you, and you didn’t answer. I called your mom, and she said she hadn’t seen you.”
“It’s not fun, is it?” I asked as I got out of the shower and walked past her.
“Oh, so you are teaching me a lesson? Really, what are we, twelve?”
“No, twelve-year-olds know how to use a phone.”
“Zachary Slayde Price, stop being an ass,” she yelled.
I stared at her. “You have told me more than once that you won’t live by a double standard, but that’s what you’re doing now.” I shut the blinds, got into the bed, and turned off the lamp.
She turned the lamp back on. “But I didn’t come home drunk either.”
“I’m not drunk.” I reached up and shut the lamp back off.
She switched it right back on. I was beginning to get pissed. I had kept my temper even with her yelling at me like I was a kid, but I was about to lose it.
“You have been at a bar all night, and you think that is the same thing as me working late.”
I sat up and looked at her, still trying to remain pretty calm. “No, I have been at the gym with Kevin drinking in his office. You know I can’t go to a damn bar.” I turned the lamp back off, and she turned it right back on. That’s it. “Arden!” I yelled. “Leave the fucking light off!”
“No, I’m not finished talking to you.” She was crying now. I never raised my voice at her, but she had pushed me over the edge this time.
“Well, I’m finished talking to you.” I knocked the lamp off the table, and she left the room crying. Now I felt like shit.
I lay there for about an hour, trying to sleep, but I couldn’t relax knowing that she was probably crying in our bed. Finally I went in there, and that was exactly what she was doing. I got into bed beside her, but she didn’t say anything.
“Look, I’m sorry I yelled at you and broke the lamp, but I am really pissed at you. I left last night because I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to fight with you.”
“You always leave when you’re mad. You can’t run away from everything,” she cried.
“I’m not running away. I’m cooling off. I don’t want to raise my voice at you, and that’s what always happens when we argue before I can clear my head. I don’t do it to punish you. I do it to keep from saying something I don’t mean.”
“I know I should have called you, but I didn’t know I was going to do the surgery until, like, two minutes before it started. So I was in a major rush, and I didn’t get to go back to my locker where my phone was.”
“How would you have felt if you had cooked dinner for me and planned a whole night for me for my birthday, and I didn’t show up until five hours later? I didn’t call, didn’t text you, nothing. Then when I did get here, I blew it off like it was no big deal and said, ‘I’m sorry—I had a better offer.’ You think that would have made you feel good?” She didn’t say anything. “No,” I said. “But you know I would never do that to you. And if I had, what would have happened is I would have come home to find you had packed your shit and left. That’s what would have happened.”
“No, it’s not. I would never leave you, but you’re right, I would have been really upset. I would have come unglued, actually.” Just her realization made me feel much better and really ready to be over this. She reached for my hand and squeezed it. “I really didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Slayde. I thought you would forgive me when I told you why. I didn’t think I would be that late, either. The surgery started at four. I figured I would be out of there by eight at the latest, and you wouldn’t have been too mad. I kind of lost track of time. I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to act like it was more important than the night with you. I was really excited about it, that’s all. You think you could forgive me?”
I didn’t answer her right away. I let her sweat it out another minute before caving. “Maybe,” I said then and pulled her to me and kissed her.
She pulled away for a second. “You want to go drive my new car?”
“Not really. I’ve already driven it.” I smiled. “Do you like it?”
“I love it. Thank you so much, and I love my necklace.”
“You’re welcome. Can we please get rid of your 4runner?”
She laughed and said, “Absolutely.” Then she kissed me.
Chapter 11
Arden
Dr. Greene was turning into a total creeper. He was an attractive guy, but he was very flirtatious, and it made me extremely uncomfortable. He’d touch the small of my back whenever he spoke with me. To me, that was a very intimate gesture, and I didn’t like it at all. But what was I supposed to do? I needed his recommendation, and without it I may as well have been doing all this for nothing.
At first I worked with him only about every third shift, but not lately. Now it seemed our schedules matched up more and more often. That would have been awesome if he weren’t such a perv, because he always got the best surgeries, and he always let me scrub in.
I called Milly on my way home one morning. I knew she would be driving to work. “Good morning, sunshine,” I said when she answered.
Milly wasn’t a morning person. Neither was I, but this wasn’t really morning for me. I was about to go to bed.
“Sunshine my ass,” she grumbled. “You’re heading home?”
I yawned. “Yeah. I’m ready to crash. I hope Slayde’s asleep still or already at the gym. If not, he will want to talk, and as much as I miss him, I don’t think my eyelids can stay up much longer.”
“Poor you,” she said sarcastically.
“You really are ill.”
“I know. I didn’t sleep last night for some reason, and I’m dreading this shift. I hate the grouchy old goat of an attending I work with today.”
“Better than Greene,” I said under my breath.
“He’s still bothering you?”
“Yeah, and I still don’t know what to do about it.”
“Well, I hate to leave you hangin’, but I’m pulling into the hospital. But seriously, A, you can’t let Greene get away with this. Tell him you feel uncomfortable.”
“Hmmm, I don’t know. Bye, Mills.”
“Bye.”
She was right, but I knew that if I said anything, he’d stop letting me scrub in, and I couldn’t have that. I’d try and keep ignoring him.
But ignoring him only seemed to let him think I was OK with his behavior, and it was getting worse.
Later that day, I was talking with a patient’s family while he stood with us. I could feel him staring at me. It was like he was mentally undressing me. I started getting nervous and stumbling over my words—not something you want the person who’s about to cut your family member’s brain open to do. I felt very unprofessional.
As soon as I finished, I left the room and went straight to the doctors’ lounge. He followed me.
“What was that?” he asked, but teasing, not angry.
I looked up at him. I could feel my chee
ks flush as I was getting angrier. “That was you making me nervous,” I blurted out without thinking.
He smiled wryly. “I make you nervous?” He took a step closer to me.
“Yes. You’re my boss,” I said, hoping that would remind him of the type of behavior that was appropriate. I immediately left the room.
He didn’t follow me, and I was glad. What the hell was up with him?
I went to get coffee before scrubbing in. I had started dreading this surgery because of Greene.
Amanda Cole, the head nurse in the ICU, was behind me in line for coffee. “I notice what he’s doing,” she said quietly. I looked at her. “Dr. Greene.”
I looked down, for some reason ashamed. “I don’t know what to do about it, but I can’t take it anymore,” I said quietly.
“Well, from experience, you may want to ignore it. You’ve only got him for a few more months. The last intern I saw him take up with the way he has you did stand up to him, and she was later cut on a total BS anonymous complaint. And she was good like you. There have also been two great ICU nurses who complained, and they were put on another service. I know it sucks, but I thought I’d tell you. If you can stick it out, that’s what you should do.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled as I took my coffee. Her kind eyes and smile met me as I turned to leave. She was being genuine.
It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but I knew she was right. So that was what I was going to do. Ignore him. Surely he really didn’t think that I’d end up going along with a workplace sexcapade like some nurses did. It wasn’t going to be like this forever.
I waited until he was already in the OR to scrub in and get in there. When I walked in, he said, “I was wondering if you were coming or not. You aren’t usually late to my surgeries.”
I looked up at the clock. “I’m not late now, Dr. Greene,” I said flatly.
Even though he was wearing a mask, I could tell he was smiling. I looked away and went to take my place next to him. He winked at me and handed me the saw.
“Are you serious? You’re letting me cut his skull open?” I’d cut plenty of skin, but he had never let me saw the skull.
He nodded. “That’s what you get for not being late.”
I took a deep breath. This is so awesome! Good thing I hadn’t told him to go to hell like I’d really wanted to earlier.
I was excited on my way home. I was tired, but I knew Slayde would be getting home shortly after me, and I wanted to stay up and spend some time with him.
He came in as I was getting into bed to catch up on my month’s worth of shows on the DVR. “Hey, babe. How was your day?” he asked after giving me a hug. “Or really, days? It’s been a few days.” He was always kind of teasing me about not seeing me.
“I talked to you this morning,” I said.
He smiled and leaned over, kissing my cheek. “I know.”
“My day was great. I got to saw someone’s skull open.”
He was getting ready to shower, and he turned around and looked at me. “Really?”
“Why does that shock you?”
He laughed. “I just didn’t think they’d let you do something like that so soon. But that is totally awesome. Was it fun?”
“Yes! Best day yet.”
“Good. Were you scared?” He lay down across the bed, waiting intently for my answer.
“Of course I was, a little. I think that it was worse because everyone was watching. It felt like they expected me to screw up.”
“I’m so proud of you.” He pulled me close and kissed me, then got up to shower.
“I’m kinda proud of me too,” I said to myself.
When he got into bed, I asked, “How was your day? Days?”
He laughed. “Long but good. Today was more sitting around than I’d like, but that’s probably my ADD.”
“Why were you sitting around?”
“We had some technical difficulty on set. It took three damn hours to fix it. Three long, boring hours.”
“That must have been torture,” I said, trying not to laugh. Slayde had the attention span of a four-year-old, so I knew it must have been really miserable for him.
I woke up to get ready for work the next morning, and Slayde was already up. He must have heard my alarm go off a few times, because I heard dishes clinking in the kitchen. But after the third time I hit snooze, he came in and sat next to me. “A,” he whispered. “Your breakfast is getting cold.”
I looked up from under my sleepy lids and yawned. “You cooked me breakfast?”
The shades were drawn, and the room was dark, but the light from the hall shone on his face, and I saw one side of his mouth draw up into that crooked smile as he nodded, then jumped up and said, “Banana pancakes,” on his way out of the room.
I felt a smile spread across my face. How lucky am I?
I grabbed my slate-gray scrubs and slowly pulled them on, wishing the thread count was even half that of our sheets.
I went to the bathroom and washed my face, pulled my hair into my signature ponytail, put on a little mascara, and then joined Slayde in the kitchen.
I buried my head in his chest, and he wrapped his big strong arms around me, pulling me tight and kissing the top of my head. “I missed you,” he whispered into my hair.
“I know,” I mumbled. “I’m ready for a day off.”
I pulled away and sat down to the ridiculous stack of pancakes he’d made. He always cooked me more than I could eat in a week.
He poured me juice and sat down across from me. ”Babe, how much sleep are you getting?” he asked while passing me the syrup. “Because you look tired. You need to take vitamins.”
I stared at him.
“You do!” He got up and got a bottle out of the cabinet. “Here. Take one.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Why are you laughing?”
“These are Flintstones,” I deadpanned.
“And?”
“And I’m an adult. And so are you, kinda.”
His gorgeous crooked smile appeared. “So then take two.” He was serious.
“Slayde, you take Flintstone vitamins?”
“Yes, and now you do too.” He took two out and laid them next to my plate.
“I don’t like orange—give me red or purple.”
He looked up at me. “Eat them.”
“You’re hoarding the good colors, aren’t you?” I asked, and he started laughing, grabbed the bottle, and picked me out a purple and a red.
“You happy?”
I smiled. “Yes.” I handed him the orange ones.
He threw them away, and I said, “Seriously? After all the nasty protein stuff you drink, you really don’t eat the orange ones?”
“I took my Flintstones this morning before heading to the gym.”
“You went to the gym, and now you are eating pancakes. The most fattening food on earth. That makes a lot of sense.”
“Nah, I actually had my protein shake already. I just didn’t want you to feel sad eating alone.” He took a sip of his orange juice. “And this is the only time that I get to spend with you. So it might as well be a date.” He winked at me, and I felt my cheeks flush.
I smiled. “I wish it could last longer. I’ve got to leave soon.”
“I know. But I will take what I can get!”
After we ate, I finished getting ready and left for work while Slayde cleaned the kitchen. When I got to the hospital, I reached into my purse for my lip balm and found the bottle of Flintstones. Slayde had written EAT ME on the bottle in Sharpie. I love him.
Chapter 12
Slayde
Our one-year anniversary was coming up, and I was thinking it had been a great year. It was a quick year, and one in which I felt like I barely saw my wife, but it was still the best year of my life because of her.
So I wanted to do something she’d remember. Poor Julie—I dragged her into my planning, even though she really didn’t want to be involved. She helped me get everyt
hing set up, and she picked up the things that I needed.
After moving some things around on my schedule, Julie helped me plan a trip to Saint Lucia. Between my schedule and Arden’s, there was only a two-night window when we could go, and it was the night of our anniversary and the night after.
Arden was at the hospital of course the morning of our anniversary, but when I woke up, she had texted me.
Happy 365th day of making me the happiest girl in the world.
I love you and can’t wait to see you tonight. XOXO
That made me happy and even more excited about the trip. I had had Julie take me to the hospital the night before and get Arden’s car and bring it to the house. I had a car and driver waiting for her in the parking garage where her car had been parked.
When she got in the car, there was a note and bottle of champagne and a small wrapped box. The note simply said:
I know it’s not even 9:00 a.m., but drink the champagne and relax. And then open the box.
Inside the box was a pair of diamond earrings and a note that said:
This is all you will need to wear tonight.
When the driver pulled up to let her out at the airport hangar, she was smiling. “What in the world?” she asked when she reached me.
I gave her a hug and pulled her to me, kissing the top of her head and breathing in her scent. “Happy anniversary,” I said.
She pulled back but was still smiling. Her green eyes sparkled in the sun. “What is all this?” she asked. “Where are we going?”
I grabbed her hand and started walking toward the plane. “You’ll see.”
Once on board, we sat down to a big breakfast. I handed her another glass of champagne, this time with orange juice.
“Where are we going?”
“Does it matter?” I asked, pulling her to me.
“Well, I don’t know. Did you pack me any clothes?”
I nodded. “I got your makeup and your other things you use every day.” Holding her face in my hands, I looked down at her. “You must not have read the note with your gift.”
She looked up at me out from under her lashes, almost looking embarrassed. “I did,” she said quietly.
