by G. Benson
Lane turned to Anna. “I don’t think we’ll need the OR. Fingers crossed, it looks like you’ll be lucky. I’ll have the ortho guy come by. He’s nice, you’ll like him.” She flicked her eyes to Ella to make sure she was still preoccupied. “We’ll need the images to confirm, but it looks okay.”
Anna let out the breath she’d been subconsciously holding. “Thank God.” She smiled. “No OR will make me very happy.”
“Oh, I’m amazing in the OR. It’s a pity I won’t get to work my magic.” At Anna’s confused look, Lane went on. “I work the casual pool here, but I mainly end up in emergency—sometimes, though, I’m in surgery as a scrub or recovery nurse. So maybe you can see me in action soon?”
Anna’s heart sped up at the slight innuendo. “Well, I’m sure we’ll work together at some point.”
Dark eyes looked up at Anna from under long lashes as Lane gave a slow smile. “I really hope we do. You’ve come highly recommended from Brisbane.”
“The others that worked there were morons. But yeah, I’m a little hard core.”
“What’s a moron?”
Anna winced. Ella was staring at them. “It’s another word for idiot.”
“You’re not ’sposed to call people that.”
“You’re right, it was mean.”
With a chuckle, Lane said goodbye to Ella before disappearing.
After a quick glance at her arm, the orthopaedic surgeon sent for X-rays, and Lane re-appeared with the intern from before.
“Ah, if it’s okay with you, Mrs, um, Foster, I’ll take Ella to X-ray.”
Lane watched them with a smirk hovering on her lips.
“Of course. And it’s Miss, not Mrs—or Doctor, really.”
The intern’s eyes widened as he clearly realised why Anna had so easily scared him. “O…okay.”
Anna saw Lane look at her with interest as she turned to her niece. “Ella Bella? We’re going to go take photos of your wrist with a really big camera. I’m going to come and be there the whole time, okay?” Her eyes flicked to the intern, daring him to argue.
Despite his obvious youth, he seemed to sense who had the upper hand, and he just nodded emphatically.
Lane smirked openly. “I’ll be around if you need me when you get back. Just press the call bell.” She turned to Ella. “I’ll see you really soon, Ella.”
Ella nodded sleepily. The pain medicine was taking effect.
As Anna brushed Ella’s hair off her forehead, she looked up and noticed Lane watching her. “Thanks, Lane. I appreciate it.”
“No problem at all. Call if you need me.”
Lane started to walk away at Anna’s grateful smile. “Oh, Anna?”
“Yeah?”
“That pony sticker on your cheek is, you’re right, incredibly hard core.” She laughed as she made her exit.
Anna blushingly peeled the sticker off her cheek before helping a sleepy Ella into the wheelchair. Still grinning, she walked alongside Ella to radiology and gently helped set her up for the X-ray.
This wasn’t how she had planned to learn her way around the hospital, or meet the new staff. Standing behind the protective screen as the radiologist took the images, she sighed. At least she would know where some things were come Monday morning.
The X-ray was over quickly. Ella was soon dozing in her bed, knocked out by the pain relief medication. After Anna called her mother with a quick update, she had nothing left to do, and stared blindly at her phone, lost in thought.
Lane worked where she worked. So much for never seeing her again. Anna couldn’t stop her thoughts from going back to the woman. Lane’s smile made her heart rate speed up in the best way, a relief from the racing pulse she’d been experiencing since Jake had passed away. She missed easy adult conversations—the type that didn’t revolve around sympathy.
Ella, peaceful as she slept with her hair smoothed off her face reminded Anna that she really didn’t have time for work, let alone women.
But a flirtation was harmless.
“Anna?”
Her head whipped up and a delighted grin crossed her lips as she saw who was standing in front of her. “Kym! Hi.”
“What on earth are you doing here?” Kym looked to the sleeping girl and back to Anna. “What happened?”
“Broken wrist. Monkey bar incident.”
They shared a wry look. “She going to be okay?”
“She’s in good hands. Some ortho God man and a nurse named Lane?”
“She’s definitely in good hands then.” Kym cocked her head as she looked at Ella. “You must’ve been worried.”
“Scared me to death, actually. I’ve never seen her like that.”
“Kids are resilient—you should know that.”
“All my knowledge and experience, and I was still terrified.”
“It’s always different when they’re you’re own.”
Anna hesitated. This hadn’t happened yet. It felt rude to the kids, to quickly deny them as her own, but she couldn’t let people assume she was their mother. “Uh. Actually, she’s my brother’s daughter.”
Kym nodded, then her almond eyes widened as she put two and two together from their last conversation. Her face grew sympathetic. “Poor thing.” Her eyes were trained on Ella. “Her mum must be struggling.”
Anna swallowed. She wasn’t normally a sharer, but something about Kym, even from their first meeting, made her feel comfortable. Maybe it was because Anna could just tell she was drowning in her own grief. “Sally—Sally passed away as well; they were in a car accident.”
Kym’s face became even more sympathetic. But to Anna’s relief, it wasn’t pity, the way many people reacted when they found out. She could handle empathy.
“That sucks,” Kym simply said.
Anna nodded. They shared a look—two women hit down by life.
Kym’s pager went off and she checked it quickly. “I gotta run. It’s Friday, so the very high people are already starting to roll in.” She paused. “Coffee on Sunday? We can discuss the impending moment of your first week as a newbie. Though, you already know two of the best people, so it’s looking up.”
“You and Lane or you and Ortho Guy whose name I have already forgotten?”
“Definitely Lane and I…you’ll like her.”
Actually, Anna was grateful Kym didn’t know just how much Lane interested her.
“So, coffee?”
“That’d be great. Uh—” She didn’t know if Kym had realised she was actually the kids’ guardian. “I’ll just have to check some stuff out.”
“No worries. Here, write your number down and I’ll send you a text.” She tapped some buttons on her phone and handed it over for Anna to input her number. Anna did so and handed it back. “I’ll hopefully see you Sunday, Anna.”
Anna smiled. A coffee date; her mother would be so proud.
The ER was hectic, patients rolling in, doctors and nurses moving quickly. Anna’s roving gaze landed on Lane. She was standing at the desk, looking at something on a computer screen. Anna raked her eyes down Lane’s form, then made herself look back up to her face.
Perving while her niece was in the ER was not a classy move.
Lane grabbed a chart and gestured to the orthopaedic doctor who was standing next to her. They both looked at the screen, the doctor nodding before he started walking towards their bed. Lane looked up and caught Anna’s eyes, giving her a thumbs up as both she and the doctor stopped at the end of the bed.
“Good news,” the doctor said softly, glancing at the sleeping Ella. “It’s a clean, hairline fracture. No manipulation needed, only a back slab cast for a week to accommodate the swelling. Then you can bring her in to the cast clinic and we’ll X-ray again to ensure nothing’s shifted, and change her to a fiberglass one.”
Anna relaxed into her chair as
the tension in her muscles finally let go. “Thank God. I really didn’t want to put her through a manipulation, even with sedation. Just the pain relief knocked her out.”
Lane chuckled, looking down at Ella. “It really did. That cast will only need to be on for four weeks, and then, hopefully, all going well, we can take it off and she’ll be good to go.”
The doctor nodded. “I’ll leave you to sort it out, Lane. I have an emergency coming in.” He turned to Anna. “I hear I may work with you in the future. It’s been a pleasure meeting you; maybe I’ll see you soon.” And with an almost friendly smile, he was gone.
They gently woke Ella, explaining to her what would happen next. Her main concern was that she’d have a “boring” cast for a week, but she perked up when she heard that everyone could draw all over it.
Lane was called away, unfortunately too busy to do the casting herself, as much as she looked like she wanted to. With Anna’s approval, Lane paged the intern to do it and walked away with a shadow of regret in her eyes.
In no time, they were ready to leave, Anna with some simple pain meds in her pocket that Ella should only really need while the wrist was swollen. They signed some paperwork and made an appointment for the next week, then started to walk out. Ella walked stiffly, adjusting to the collar and cuff sling.
“Anna!”
They paused at the ER exit doors and turned around to see Lane running up behind them.
Anna and Ella both smiled.
Lane raised her eyebrows at them. “Whoa. Same dimples.”
Laughter lit up her face in a way that made Anna want to bat her eyelashes like a fifteen year old.
Ella giggled. “That’s ’cause we’re related.”
The giggle was high pitched and Anna tried not to show her amusement. The girl was still a little high.
Lane raised her palm up to her forehead. “Oh! Of course it is.” She winked at Ella. “Silly me.”
Lane knelt down in front of the girl, pulling a pen out of her pocket. “I was wondering if I could be the first to sign your cast?”
Ella nodded eagerly. “Okay.” She held it up, uninjured hand supporting the heavy cast.
Lane drew a large, simple flower.
Anna chuckled.
Not looking up, Lane simply said, “Hey, I’m an artist with patients, not so much with a pen.”
“I like it, Nurse Lane.”
“I knew you’d appreciate me, Ella.” Lane was adding some detail Anna couldn’t see. With a flourish, she finished. “There!” She stood up.
Anna laughed out loud at the sight of Lane’s phone number.
“If you have any broken bone concerns, Ella,” Lane said with utter seriousness, “you can call me.”
Ella bounced a little. “Okay!”
“But if not, I’ll see you in a week.” Lane looked at Anna, smiling as she folded her arms. “And if not, feel free to call me if you want a tour of the hospital on your first day, Anna.” She held Anna’s eyes for a second, then looked back to Ella. “Now, be careful on those monkey bars!” She threw them both a casual grin, turned, and walked off.
Ella slipped her free hand into Anna’s as they both looked after her. “I like her.”
Anna looked down at her.
“Me too, Ella Bella.”
CHAPTER SIX
Being in such a silent house could be unnerving, especially when guilt was gnawing at you.
Anna snuck down the hallway and tiptoed up to Toby’s cot. All she could see was the back of his little brunette head and a fist flung up next to it, fingers curled around his thumb. He was fast asleep and snoring softly. Carefully, Anna picked his pacifier up and moved it to the far corner of the cot. Lately, he was waking up less and less without it, slowly not asking for it during the day. It was a quiet war, a battle of wills, and Toby—a stubborn toddler who she had learnt could throw a fit one second and bat his big beautiful baby blues at you the next—was losing. The truth was that Anna would have been content to let him have all the little comforts he wanted. But her mother had told her that Jake and Sally had almost completely weaned him off it, so Anna was trying to get back to that.
Quietly, she padded out and walked to Ella’s room, pushing the door open slightly; Anna had learnt quickly that a shut door and no hall light apparently invited monsters. She rested one hand on the doorframe and one on the door handle, leaning in to see the light falling across the bed. She smiled softly as she looked at Ella, who was sprawled on her back, arm in its cast over her head. It was Saturday night, and, after having to keep the cast dry in the bath with a plastic garbage bag, Ella was already fed up with her broken wrist and it had only been twenty-four hours. But she was out cold now, vulnerable, completely trusting that, in her sleep, she would be kept safe.
Assured that the kids were asleep and everything was calm, Anna made her way down to the kitchen. She pulled out a half-empty bottle of white, grabbed a wine glass, patted her pocket to make sure what she really wanted was there, and headed out the back door. The screen door shut quietly behind her but she made sure the back door stayed open so she could hear sneaky six-year-old footsteps or baby cries. Finally, with a sigh, Anna sat down on the back step, set the bottle down next to her foot and leant against the banister, the wood digging into her shoulder.
One sip, the wine rich on her tongue, and Anna guiltily put the glass down and fumbled for her packet of cigarettes. Lighting one, she slowly blew the smoke out and tilted her head to watch it drift slowly upwards. She blinked sleepily and took another drag, staring at the stars overhead.
Anna could look at stars all night.
Another sip of wine, and her jangling nerves began to settle. Her mother would kill her if she could see her now. When Anna was sixteen, her mother had caught her with a packet of cigarettes and then had stood behind her yelling father with her arms crossed, an incredibly disappointed look on her face.
It hadn’t stopped Anna at the time, but she had smoked less, seen it as less of a rebellion, not as fun. She’d learnt to hide it better, too. By her second year of college, she had pretty much stopped. Smoking became a secret vice she succumbed to when she felt guilty.
Hayley had found her once in the place they had shared together. Anna had poked her head out of their tiny bathroom window in an attempt to hide the smell. Yet, still, Hayley walked in, eyebrows raised and arms crossed. Apparently, she had been able to smell the smoke all the way from the living room. Hayley had simply looked at her and asked, “What did you do?”
This time, Anna had broken her brother’s daughter. There was even a cast to prove it.
She was logical. She knew these things happened. Sick and injured people surrounded her at work. She knew children broke bones, caught terrible diseases, fell down. And nine out of ten times, they got right back up again, none the worse for wear.
But she’d seen the parents as she floated through pre-ops, had seen the guilt, the terror. They tore themselves apart with blame and angst. “These things happen” was a token line she heard said a lot.
So yes, Anna knew she wasn’t to blame. But, still, it was barely past the fortnight mark of being the kids’ guardian, and she’d already broken one of them. Anna bit at her thumbnail, then took another drag.
This, right here, was one of the big reasons she’d never wanted kids. Anna snorted. Now here she was, instant family, just add Anna—and one of the members was broken, literally. And she had used part of the time Ella had been broken to flirt with an incredibly attractive emergency nurse. Who had flirted with her first. And had given Anna her number—kind of. But whoever had started it, surely it was breaking some kind of guardianship rule?
Therapeutic smoke filled her lungs. She needed to ask her mother if she’d ever been this overrun with guilt any time she or Jake had hurt themselves. Jake had broken his arm twice as a kid, both times falling out of a tree, and Anna ha
d once fractured her tibia, something she remembered blaming Jake for at the time. She had a vague recollection of riding her bike down a dirt track and him poking a stick at her wheel.
Anna stared up at the sky again with a wry grin. God, she’d been mad. She’d missed the beach that summer because of him. Granted, he’d spent the entire time at home with her, feet up on the coffee table next to hers, decorating her cast and watching movies. He had even let her play with his precious Nintendo.
A lump swelled in her throat, and her eyes burned. Her head, for one second defeated by her feelings, dropped to rest on her palm, cigarette smouldering near her hair.
Fuck, she missed her brother. She missed talking to him, hearing his laugh. While accidentally calling him had ripped a new hole in her, she kind of wanted to do it again just to hear his voice, like a balm—the sound could wash over her and take her away for just a minute. All she wanted was to have a conversation with Jake. She wanted to ask him about raising kids, and if he was mad Ella had broken her arm while under Anna’s care. She would have loved to ask if he thought that she was doing okay with Toby—and did he think they could be happier or that she could be doing anything better.
She sucked in a deep breath and sat up straighter. Her eyes felt swollen, but her cheeks were dry. She let out a slow breath, a shuddering noise. Sometimes it felt as if she let herself fall into that feeling, she’d never crawl out. And she just couldn’t let that happen. Not with the kids, not with that terrifying loss of control.
Pulling at her phone, she looked down at the text she’d received that morning from Kym.
Anna! Coffee? Tomorrow? I’m free all day, like morning or afternoon or whatever. I don’t want to sound like the desperate widow, but I am. So hang out with me? Coffee?
Anna knew it was getting late, but she figured it’d be okay to text Kym back anyway. She glanced at her watch, and her eyes widened in amusement. It was just going nine. It wasn’t late by any means in her old life. How these kids had changed her.
She sent a quick reply.
