A Little in Love With You: A Love at First Note Novella

by Jenny Proctor

  A Little in Love With You

  (a Love at First Note novella)

  By Jenny Proctor

  Copyright 2016

  Chapter 1

  Lilly

  Great. More snow.

  I closed the blinds over the faded brown couch in my apartment and sat down to pull on my boots. Our third snowstorm in as many weeks, Asheville was beginning to feel a little more like the northern Midwest than the mild southern paradise I’d grown to love. Especially since with my job, it didn’t matter if there was four inches of icy slush on the ground. The rest of the city closed down, sure. But newborn babies don’t exactly care about the weather. When everyone else gets a snow day, nurses just get a harder-to-get-there work day.

  I scooped my keys off the table by the door and pulled my long dark ponytail forward so I could pull up the hood on my coat.

  Stupid coat.

  Stupid snow.

  Stupid sidewalk that’s never scraped and almost killed me last week. Twice.

  I continued to grumble as I inched my way through the icy streets of downtown. It was really, really really time for spring.

  Despite several accidents on the highway, I stepped into the hospital with five minutes to spare before my shift started.

  “Lilly! You made it.” My supervisor met me at the desk. She looked even more frazzled than normal.

  “It was slow going, but once I hit McDowell the roads weren’t too bad. How are things?”

  She breathed a weary sigh. “Jane’s stuck in Black Mountain. She’s trying to shovel out but it may be a while, and Deb just called and said she’s stuck behind a jack-knifed semi on the highway. And of course, every baby in all of Buncombe County decided today was a great day to join the world.” She shook her head. “Hang your coat up, honey. It’s going to be a long day.”

  Even the soft southern cadence of Brenda’s words couldn’t soothe my annoyance. I needed sunshine. And sand. And a good book and a long nap. Not an overcrowded, understaffed labor and delivery floor in the middle of a snowstorm.

  I listened as the night shift briefed us on our patients for the day and tried to stay focused, but my heart was so far from in it. I needed something to break my bad mood, and fast. No mamma deserved a nurse as cranky as me. Before greeting my patients, I took a detour into the bathroom and pulled out my phone.

  It was just past 7 AM. Maybe Emma was up? Probably not. But best friends forgive early AM texts. Or so I convinced myself as I typed out a message.

  ME: Tell me something funny. I need to be happy and bring life into the world but really just feel like spitting on everyone.

  Her reply came through immediately.

  EMMA: Even on the babies? That’s a little harsh.

  ME: Seriously. It’s snowing again today and I want to pull off all my fingernails.

  EMMA: But then you’d be cold AND in pain.

  ME: You’re not helping.

  EMMA: Just remind yourself that no matter how much snow you get there, we’re getting more in Cleveland.

  ME: Yeah?

  EMMA: Something like 22 inches. And nothing here EVER gets cancelled for snow. I am officially a snow wimp.

  ME: Me too. For real. Something funny? I need to go work and can only do it if I laugh first.

  EMMA: Hmm. How about kind of exciting?

  ME: Okay.

  A moment later, a picture popped up in the message thread. It was Emma, but the camera was aimed high and over her left shoulder so you could only see the top half of her face.

  EMMA: See that guy standing behind me? she texted. In the blue jacket? That’s Zac Efron.

  ME: !!!! For real?

  EMMA: I played in New York with the Philharmonic last week and he was at the concert. He came to the reception after.

  I rolled my eyes. Emma was a violinist, like a big time famous violinist that played all over the country and yet she still stole pictures of the back of Zac Efron’s head with an over-the-shoulder selfie. She could have walked right up and introduced herself. As gorgeous as she is, he probably would have asked to get a picture with her.

  ME: Did you get his number? Think he’ll take me out this weekend?

  EMMA: Of course. He’ll pick you up at 7.

  ME: If only.

  EMMA: He did smile at me. He has a nice smile.

  That’s probably what I needed more than anything to break me out of my funk. A date. Or even just a smile at this point. It’d been so long since a guy noticed me, or at least since I’d noticed a guy noticing me, I’d settle for anything.

  Emma’s next message popped up.

  EMMA: The right guy is out there, Lil. And you will find him.

  How that girl thought two steps ahead of me was baffling, but she always did

  ME: Yeah, yeah.

  EMMA: Here. Something funny.

  Another picture popped up, this one of a kitten stuck inside a very small mason jar.

  ME: Success! That one made me smile.

  EMMA: Go deliver babies. Rock your long legs and baby browns… maybe you’ll meet someone today.

  ME: Yes. Because expectant fathers make great dates.

  EMMA: Oh yeah. Right. A dashing new resident, maybe? A lunch delivery boy? I’m just saying. YOU NEVER KNOW.

  Okay, maybe you didn’t ever know in general, but I thought it was pretty safe to say I did know I would never meet a guy at work. And I kinda didn’t want to. Not with the way my pale purple scrubs made me look all washed out and sallow.

  A three minute convo with Emma went a long way to put me in a better mood; at least enough to go through the motions with a smile on my face. A fake smile, mostly, but, whatever. At least I wasn’t spitting.

  * * *

  After lunch, stuff got so crazy, I forgot about my bad mood by default. There was too much going on. Two epidurals, one passed out father, three deliveries, and one C-section later, I finally sank into a chair at the nurse’s desk.

  “You look whooped,” Jane said from behind me.

  I turned. “Hey, I didn’t realize you made it in.”

  She nodded. “I’ve been here a couple hours. Where have you been?”

  “The OR. I had to scrub in and cover a C-section. It feels like half the staff didn’t make it in today.”

  “Oh, was it the twins? I saw the babies upstairs. They look good.”

  “Yeah. They’ll be in the NICU a week or so, but they’re strong. I don’t think they’ll have any complications.”

  “That’s good news.” She stretched her arms up over her head then rubbed her shoulders. “Sorry I was late. My driveway is far too long for shoveling.”

  I grimaced. “Just the thought makes me love that I live in the city.” Even if they never scraped the sidewalks.

  The call button buzzed behind us and we both turned. I was closest, so I reached over and answered the call. “What can I do for you?”

  A deep voice answered. “Hi, can we get a nurse in here, please?”

  My eyebrows went up as I released the intercom button. “That’s some voice,” I said to Jane. And it was. Deep and rich and resonant. Even the simple sentence uttered into the call button gave me chills.

  “Tell me about it. Was that 315? He’s kinda cute too.”

  A second buzz came through, this one from room 320. “Hi, um, I think my water just broke?”

  “One of yours?” I asked Jane.

  “They’re both mine. Can you check on 315 for me? She just got here and she’s nowhere near delivery. I doubt she needs anything huge.”

  We stood up together. “Sure. I’ll check on her.”

  Jane was not wrong.
Deep-voice-baby-daddy was cute. I mean, he wasn’t Zac Efron. He was more understated, and a little more rugged. Basically, he was the quintessential Asheville guy—longish brown hair, loose waves hanging over his ears, a beard, and these eyes that were deep and dark and . . . yeah. I stared.

  I gave my head a slight shake. “Hi. I’m Lilly. Jane’s assisting with a delivery right now, so she sent me to see what I could do to help.”

  The dad stepped forward. “Travis.” He shook my hand, holding it a beat too long. Somehow it didn’t feel awkward. More like he was pulling me in, waiting for my eyes to meet his. Then they did, and this little zing thing happened. I pulled away and took a giant step back. Because, hello. There was a pregnant woman in the bed beside me and it was his baby. I turned my attention to the actual patient. That I hadn’t gone straight to her when I entered the room was a huge faux pas, and one I needed to make up for.

  Travis followed, stopping on the other side of the bed. Our eyes met one more time. Maybe it was straight up intuition, or just the look in his eyes, but I could tell. He’d felt something too. “Sorry,” he said. He shoved his hands into his pockets and motioned his head toward the bed. “This is Avery.”

  Sorry? That you just got all warm and zingy shaking hands with a nurse while the woman pregnant with your child chills in the bed beside you? Sorry?!

  Yeah. Maybe he wasn’t so cute after all.

  Avery looked a lot more like she was sitting down to an afternoon picnic than prepping to have a baby. Her hair was fixed, her nails done, her makeup perfectly in place. She sat cross-legged, the blanket pulled to just below her belly which was exposed, covered only by the external monitors that were tracking her contractions and the baby’s heartbeat.

  “How are things?” I asked.

  “I’m just trying to figure out if what I’m feeling is actually a contraction.”

  I picked up the print out that marked each contraction. She’d had a few, but definitely nothing noteworthy.

  “Okay, right now,” Avery said. “Am I having one right now?” She placed both her hands on her belly and scrunched her eyebrows then took a few deep breathes. “Actually that one kinda hurt a little.”

  I smiled. “That was definitely a contraction. How long have they been going on?”

  “They started this morning, but they’ve been pretty random until now.”

  “But it doesn’t seem like any of them have really been hurting,” Travis added.

  She shot him a look. “Don’t tell her that! If they aren’t hurting, they might send me home again.”

  “Again?” I asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “Apparently this baby would like to hang out inside of me until I’m carrying around a seventeen pound toddler.”

  I smiled. “At two weeks late, I don’t think anyone is sending you home.” I repositioned the monitor strapped across her belly.

  Travis motioned to Avery’s IV bag, hanging on a pole behind her. “That’s supposed to speed it up, right?”

  I nodded, working hard to keep my gaze focused somewhere over his left shoulder. It was a nice shoulder. Round and probably firm and . . . Oh geez. Focus. “In theory, the Pitocin she’s getting through her IV should speed things up, though it doesn’t seem to be doing much yet.”

  Avery collapsed back onto her pillow.

  “What happens if it doesn’t work?” Travis asked.

  “I wouldn’t worry about that too much. It’s a process, and not usually a quick one.”

  “What if I end up needing a C-section?”

  “If you do, you’ll be just fine. You’ve got a great doctor, and he’ll keep a close eye on the baby and do what’s best for you both. But don’t worry about that. Don’t even think about it for now. Just focus on what your body is capable of. You’re getting ready to do a really amazing thing, yeah? You’ve got this.”

  She took a deep breath. “I don’t want a C-section.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think you’re going to need one.”

  “But if I do?”

  “Then you’ll be amazing in the OR instead of in here.”

  She smiled away the doubt that was creasing her brow. “I am amazing, aren’t I?” She didn’t look particularly thrilled at the prospect of a C-section, which was normal, but she also didn’t look panicky. That was a good sign. Panicky moms stressed me out.

  Travis, on the other hand, looked seconds away from passing out. He gripped the side of the bed railing with both fists, his knuckles white.

  “Are you okay?” I asked him.

  He looked up. “Oh. Yeah. I was just . . . so, if there was a . . . if she . . . a C-section. I would be there for that, right?”

  Seriously? “If it came to that, yes. You would be.”

  “I don’t know what you’re getting all freaked out for,” Avery said, looking at Travis. “It’s not like the doctors will be getting all up in your business.”

  Ha. True enough.

  He gave her a sympathetic look. “No, you’re right. But, I’ve never done this before. I’m just trying to figure stuff out.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for her hand.

  She patted his arm, shifting so her IV didn’t tangle. Her eyes were warm and loving. “I’m glad you’re here, Trav.”

  He smiled. “Me too.”

  Their affection suddenly made me feel guilty for thinking he was a jerk. I mean, what did I know? Who’s to say I didn’t make the entire zingy feeling thing up? It was probably a stretch to think that anyone, with my plastered on fake smile, deeply rooted bad mood, and let’s not forget horrid purple scrubs, would feel anything close to a zing from me anyway. I was just crazy. The end.

  I had to get out of there. “Is there anything else you need before I go?” I asked.

  Avery shook her head. “I think we’re great for now.”

  I left the room, the tingles up my arm from Travis’ handshake still lingering. Except, no. Nothing was lingering because I’d made it all up.

  Right?

  I slumped against the wall outside their room. Even if I hadn’t made it up, it’s not like it mattered. The guy was married.

  I paused. I guess I didn’t know for sure they were married. Had he been wearing a wedding band? But even if they weren’t, he and Avery were clearly committed. Which meant my stupid zingy reaction to him, made up or not, would never ever matter.

  Chapter 2

  Trav

  “She’s cute.” Avery shifted her weight and stretched. “You should ask for her number.”

  “Are you seriously telling me to hit on your labor and delivery nurse?”

  She shot me a pointed look. “Why not? It’s time to get back in the saddle. Beside, she’s not my nurse. She’s just a nurse. So it’s not like she’s going to be coming in here every ten minutes making things awkward if she says no. Just go for it. See what she says.”

  “I love you, Av. You’re the best little sister a guy could hope for. But you don’t get to call the shots in my dating life anymore. I learned that lesson the hard way.”

  “Ha! You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

  I smiled. “It was the best worse prom date I ever had.”

  Avery winced and her hands flew to her belly, her face scrunched up and tight.

  “What’s the matter? What’s wrong? Do I need to call the nurse?”

  She rolled her eyes and forced out a breath. “It’s just another contraction. They’re starting to feel a little more intense.” She threw her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. “Here. Can you roll that ball over here for me?”

  “Can you get up? You’re all . . . hooked up and stuff. And what about the baby?”

  “What, you think he’s just gonna fall out? As long as I stay right here, I’m fine. I’m just feeling restless and I want to sit on something besides this bed.”

  I rolled the giant exercise ball to her bedside, wishing it was the baby’s father standing next to her instead of me. She must have read my mind. />
  “Any word yet?” She reached for my hand, gripping it tightly as she lowered herself onto the ball. “Don’t move,” she said. “I need you for balance.”

  I pulled out my phone to see if the baby’s father had called, but I would have heard the notification had something come in. The screen was blank, no missed calls, no emails, no texts. I shook my head. “Nothing.”

  Her shoulders dropped and she huffed. “Idiot man.”

  The silenced stretched, nothing to fill it but our own thoughts humming through our brains. “I’m sorry he’s not here, Av,” I finally said. “I know I’m not much of a substitute.”

  She shook her head and looked me right in the eye. “Don’t say that, Trav. You’re a better man than he’ll ever be.”

  I guess I’d been all right as far as big brothers go. Avery and I had been on our own since we were teenagers and we’d made it okay. But my role had always been more straightforward. Jumpstart the car. Move the dishwasher. Scare away the weird neighbor guy that wouldn’t stop asking her out. But this was different. I knew as much about having babies as I did about arranging flowers. Which was precisely and exactly nothing. I guess I’d known this moment was coming, but I always kind of figured the dad would step up. Take ownership.

  Or not.

  Sad that the best Avery could do for support was her generally responsible but sometimes flaky older brother.

  Avery breathed through another contraction then looked at me with her “time to get serious” eyes. “So let’s talk about Lilly.”

  “Who’s Lilly?”

  Her serious eyes shifted into “you’re stupid” eyes. “The nurse that you couldn’t stop staring at. You know, the one that left the room less than ten minutes ago?”

  “Oh, right. Her.” So, fine. I’d stared. The girl looked like a freakin’ super model. Dark hair, great skin, and these eyes that were this rich chocolate brown color.

  “Maybe her shift’s ending soon. You could take her out for coffee.”

  “And leave you here alone?”

  “Geez, you’re right. This baby seems like he’s really in a hurry.”

  I dropped onto the vinyl cushion of the bench under the window. “But here? While you’re . . . it just seems wrong.”