by G. Benson
Hayden winced. Yes, that was most likely exactly where she’d been. It had been a long thirty minutes. “Yeah, I imagine so. Was she in bad shape?”
Luce’s eyes were back on the screen, most likely flicking through blood results. “She was, yeah. But I’m sure it’s nothing your superstar wife can’t fix.”
“Obviously.”
~ ~ ~
Hayden’s shift hadn’t gotten much better. But it did end. And it was with a skip in her step that she flounced up to the front of her building.
Nicolas came out of the alcove and greeted her. “You’re skipping, yet you look exhausted.”
“I’m a little delirious, Nic. But now I get three days off work.”
“Good to hear.” He pulled the door open, and she walked past him. “Enjoy your sleep.”
“Soon I’ll think you’re trying to tell me I look terrible,” she called over her shoulder. She had a bag with some groceries in one arm and decided that justified the elevator. In the apartment, Frank was sitting on the back of the couch, staring out the window.
“Morning, Frank.”
He turned around but didn’t offer much else. Hayden quickly put the milk and other things away and stopped at the counter. Sam’s bag was on the sofa. She was home. Hayden walked into the living room and glanced up the stairs.
“Sam?”
She didn’t want to shout, in case she was asleep. But if she was awake, maybe Hayden could offer to make eggs to say thanks for the food every morning.
No one answered.
“Sam?”
Nothing. Hayden gave up and walked over to Frank, kneeling on the sofa next to him and looking out. The gauzy curtains were easy to see through. With her elbows on the back of the sofa, she nuzzled Frank with her chin and grinned when he gave a hearty purr.
She paused. Was that a balcony they had?
Had Hayden lived there for months and completely missed a balcony? How had she done that?
The curtains hung to the ground. Hayden stepped off the sofa and walked over, tugging them aside.
There was a door.
It was like discovering Narnia. Glad she hadn’t taken off her coat, she tugged the door open and stepped outside. It was so high. The street was lined with morning sunlight. It was after nine o’clock, and cars were moving down the road. People were bustling down the sidewalks. This street was amazing. The trees were shedding golden brown leaves all over it, their branches almost completely bare now. In that light, it looked like some kind of dedication to fall.
She looked right, to where the balcony ran along the length of the living room wall, then down, and almost screamed.
Sam was sitting on the floor, back against the window.
Hayden put her hand over her chest. “Sam. Shit, you scared me. I thought you were asleep in your room.”
For a moment, Sam’s lips pressed together in a straight line. “No. Not asleep.”
Why was Sam not making use of the comfortable, ornate chairs decorating the balcony? Hayden could now make out Frank’s silhouette, above Sam’s head. So that’s what he’d been looking at.
Hayden crossed her arms, about to ask why she was on the ground. But Sam’s red-rimmed eyes became more obvious, and Hayden sniffed the air. Cigarettes.
“Have you been smoking?” she asked.
Sam’s hand was next to her leg, hidden from Hayden’s view. She lifted it up. Smoke rose up almost lazily from the cigarette she held, practically invisible in this light. Hayden sat next to her, their hips and sides together.
“I haven’t smoked any of it.”
An ashtray was sitting next to her with several squashed, only partly-burned cigarettes, ash strewn in the bottom.
“No?”
Sam shook her head. “No. I quit fifteen years ago. I just needed…something.”
Her voice was flat, and Hayden looked at her. The back of her head was against the glass as she looked up at the sky, patches visible among the tall apartment buildings. She was starkly pale, the green of her eyes vivid and alive. They were the green of spring, while her hair matched the fall leaves.
Like Sam herself. A contrast Hayden couldn’t really figure out.
“You okay?”
Sam swallowed and didn’t look at her. She nodded. Her eyes glistened, and she shook her head. “No.”
“Your patient?”
“She died. On the table.”
Hayden sucked in a breath. Kids were always hard. Always. Sometimes you did what you constantly did and pushed past. Sometimes you couldn’t.
“I’m sorry. What happened?”
Sam blindly put out the cigarette and dropped her hand on her knee, her fingers tapping at it. She still didn’t look at Hayden. “She was awake when I got there. Just. Her eyelids were fluttering, and she was crying. I talked to her while the anesthetist put her under, her mother stroking her hand until she was asleep. Then I looked that woman in the eye and told her I’d do everything that I could.” Sam turned her head, looking at Hayden, and the shock of her eye contact, the depth of it, was like a slap. “I lied to her.”
“No. Sam, you didn’t lie. That’s what we say. And we mean it. You did your best.”
“I knew. I saw the scan right before I scrubbed. I knew she would die. I mean, it was something that we would always operate on, it was the only chance. But I had a feeling… The damage was so extensive…”
“But you still did your best?”
“Of course I did!” Sam spat the words out, and Hayden didn’t even flinch, just met her eye and let her heat transfuse through where their bodies touched. Sam licked her bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I get it. Some patients stick with you.”
“She was so very small.”
Hayden hesitated, the urge running down her limbs to do something, anything, to comfort. Finally, she dropped her hand over Sam’s on her knee, and when Sam didn’t pull away, she squeezed gently. Sam turned her hand around, and their fingers laced together. It was cold outside, despite the sunlight and blue sky, and a few minutes ago, Hayden would have loved to be in bed and sleeping, but right then, there, in that moment, she wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.
“What was yours?” Sam’s voice sliced through the quiet of the rumbling street below and their steady breathing.
“My what?”
“Your worst.”
Oh. Her worst patient loss. Dredging up those memories was never fun, or easy.
“Two years ago, we had a thirteen-year-old come in with anaphylaxis. We tried to resuscitate. But we failed. We lost him so quickly.” Hayden took a deep breath. “I‘ll never forget the way his parents screamed his name.”
Sam’s hand, in her own, tightened. “This mother blamed me.”
“You know it wasn’t your fault.”
“I do. And I also know it will help her to have someone to blame.”
They sat there for an hour, the day starting around them for everyone else while their night came to a close.
Hayden’s phone began chiming, and she started, digging it out of her pocket with her free hand. It was her abuela.
“Sorry,” Hayden said.
“No. Take it.”
Sam went to stand up, but Hayden tugged her back down. “Want to join? It’s not weird if you do. I mean, they kind of expect it? It would be weirder if they never see you.”
“Okay.”
Hayden quickly answered the call and accepted the video request. Abuela’s face came on. Javi was sitting in her lap, his face lit up.
“Tía! And Sam!” He flapped his hand enthusiastically at them. “Hi.”
“Hey, Javi.” Hayden waved her hand, now free from Sam’s.
Sam wiggled her fingers at the screen, her head pressed against Hayden’s ear so they could both be on the screen. “Hello, Javi.”
“Alejandra. You look exhausted.” Abuela squinted at them. “You also, Samantha. Why?”
“We had night shift, Abuela. Well, Sam was on cal
l and had to go in.”
“They work you both too much.” Abuela clicked her tongue.
Hayden thought it better to skirt the issue of work. “Javi, shouldn’t you be at school?”
He shook his head, wilting into Abuela dramatically and pouting. “I can’t go. I’m sick.”
“What happened?” Hayden asked.
“I vomited. In Mami’s bed.”
Hayden bit down a laugh. “That’s pretty gross.”
He nodded solemnly.
“You feeling better?”
“Yup. And I get a whole day with Abuela. We made up a superhero name for me.”
“You did?” Hayden loved her nephew. “What is it?”
“Yes.” Abuela sighed. “Tell her your superhero name.”
“Danger Fart!”
Sam snorted and burst into laughter. The sound made Hayden gape at her at first, then she joined in. Through her phone speaker, she could hear Javi cackling.
CHAPTER 19
“Sam. What is that?”
Hayden couldn’t look away from the living room wall under the stairs that led up to Sam’s room. She closed her eyes. Opened them again. Stared some more. The photo was still there.
“Hm?” Sam’s voice came from the kitchen.
Hayden finally spun around. Frank wove around her feet, and she scooped him up, holding him to her chest. “That. What is that?”
Sam finally looked up from the counter where she was busy chopping tomatoes. They were fresh ones, organic and plump, and the smell of them filled the room. Hayden was getting spoiled living in this house. To be fair, she had some money now, more than she’d ever really had. That forty thousand still sat there, though, untouched.
“That,” Sam said, her eyes doing that slightly squinty thing they did when she was amused, “is a photo.”
Hayden huffed, scratching Frank under the chin. “Yes. It is a photo. But where did it come from?”
“It’s been there two days.”
“I—what?”
“Two days, Hayden.”
Hayden spun on her heel and stared at it again. “Two days?”
“You’re really not very observant. I was waiting for this reaction.”
“You had a photo of us kissing on the wall for two days and I missed it?” Frank squeaked, and Hayden loosened her grip. He struggled, and she let him jump down. He stalked off somewhere toward his ridiculous cat tree, where he would, she was sure, stare at them all judgmentally from his hammock.
“I put it up, knowing your friends were coming tonight. It came about a month ago. Around when you were hiding your keys in the fridge.”
The photo was huge. And beautifully shot. It was candid, the two of them kissing in City Hall, smiles on their lips. It looked real. The photographer had captured it at the perfect moment. You couldn’t tell that they were laughing out of awkwardness, at the pure insanity of the situation.
They looked like two fools in love.
“I like that it’s in black and white,” Hayden said.
“Mm. He did a good job. There’s another on the TV cabinet.”
Hayden spun on her heel again. “There is?”
Sam chuckled. “There is.”
Hayden walked over to the television, picking up the much smaller framed photo. This one was color. Sam’s cheeks were flushed. Hayden was biting her lip as she slipped a ring on Sam’s finger. She barely remembered doing that. The entire thing had passed in an anxiety-ridden blur. The photo was finely enhanced. He really had done a good job.
“So this is the subtle ‘look at us we’re genuinely married’ touch?” Hayden put the photo down and walked over to sit on one of the barstools, watching Sam add balsamic with a flick of her wrist to the salad she’d prepared.
“It is. Do you think it works?”
“It does.” Hayden quickly stole a piece of cucumber and dodged Sam’s hand that moved to slap it away. She popped it in her mouth, victorious. “Jon will think it’s hilarious.”
“Yes, well, as I’ve mentioned before, Jon is an idiot.”
“He’s your brother. What does that say about you?”
Sam pushed the salad bowl further away, out of Hayden’s reach as she tried for another piece. Hayden pouted, and Sam tugged it back over with a sigh for Hayden to snag a piece of carrot. She bit into it happily.
“It says nothing about me. We’re two very different people. He’s over twenty years younger, for a start.”
“Age means nothing.”
Sam’s eyes shot upward to meet Hayden’s gaze for an intense second. It was a loaded look, one Hayden hadn’t meant to induce, nor did she fully understand. But it was true. Age wasn’t important. After a slow blink, Sam went back to pulling out plates and cutlery.
“Yes, well, if it means nothing, then Jon and I are dramatically different simply due to personality.”
“Can I ask something?”
Sam placed the four plates on the counter in front of herself, her hands resting on them as she gave Hayden her full attention. “Go ahead.”
Hayden swallowed. “If it’s out of bounds, just let me know.” She had been really good about not pushing for answers. She’d promised. And breaking a promise was like lying in Hayden’s book. You don’t break promises. She still hadn’t pried for more about that mysterious comment from Jon. “But the age gap is pretty big?”
Sam ran her thumb over the curved edge of one of the plates. “That’s not a question.”
Hayden almost threw something at her. God, she could be really infuriating. “You know what I mean.”
And Sam did, because her lips were quirking up. “My mother had me when she was twenty. I was an only child, and I don’t think they planned on more. Jon was an utter surprise they announced when I was twenty-one.”
“Do you feel like a sister to him?”
“I was so busy with studying and, later, my residency.” She seemed to consider her next words. “I tried, though, to be there for him, because I knew what it was like to grow up with them.” She had a distant look in her eye, her thumb still moving back and forth against the china, and it made Hayden hold her breath. There was an achingly brittle moment growing between them. “But I suppose I felt like an aunt. A sister too. In some ways, maybe even his mother.” She laughed so softly Hayden thought for a second she’d imagined it. “He once packed a bag and left the house. He was five. They called the police, and when they found him walking down the street with his Ninja Turtles backpack, he announced to them he was moving to the hospital to live with his sister.”
Hayden grinned. “He loved you.”
“He idolized me. He realized I was human, eventually.” Something, a shadow, flitted over the green of Sam’s eye. “But he’s everything I have.”
“And—and your parents?”
Sam cocked her head and took in a deep breath, her tongue running over her bottom lip, considering something, maybe. “They—”
The buzzer interrupted her, and Hayden had never wanted to kill someone more. Sam straightened her shoulders and gave Hayden a wry smile before padding over to the intercom.
“Let them up, Nicolas. Thank you.”
“Are you ready for this?” Hayden asked.
“No.”
Hayden laughed. “Me neither. Dinner with Luce and their girlfriend.”
“Do I call Luce Clemmie’s partner?”
“Yeah, that one’s fine. But Luce isn’t the biggest fan of it. They prefer boo.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup.”
Sam sighed. “Right. Luce is Clemmie’s…boo.”
“Nah, I’m just messing with you. Though Luce doesn’t mind boo. Datefriend is fine.”
Sam grabbed a pen from the table near the entrance and threw it at her. Hayden ducked, laughing. A knock sounded at the door, and Sam sent over a final frown before tugging it open.
“Hey!” Luce’s cheery voice carried through, and Hayden slid out of her chair and walked over to greet them both like a marri
ed couple probably should. Whatever that meant. She plastered a smile on her face.
Clemmie gave a wave. “Hi.”
Hayden slid close to Sam, slipping a hand around her waist. It was natural now. Something they did in other’s company easily. “Hey, humans.”
Luce held up a bottle of wine. “We bring wine, since Sam insisted we didn’t need to bring anything.”
Sam reached out and took it. “Thank you.”
Everyone shuffled inside and did the dance of showing where coats went and getting everyone in. Luce was looking around the apartment, letting out a low whistle, their hand still entwined with Clemmie’s.
“Nice place, you two.”
Hayden slipped into the kitchen to get out of having to feel awkward about accepting compliments about an apartment she had nothing to do with nor would be living in after they were divorced. She started opening the bottle of wine, listening to Sam tell them about the apartment.
“Do you want a tour?” Sam asked.
“Yes, please.” Luce was far too eager. They were clearly interested in seeing how the two of them lived. Luckily, Hayden had smooshed everything she owned into her closet, and her room was looking like a guest room again, her toiletries all hidden away just in case. Sam had even taken Hayden’s jacket upstairs and dropped it on her bed, and had left a pair of Hayden’s shoes on the floor.
Maybe there was even a photo of them up there?
Luce set off down the hall after Sam like it was a covert mission, shooting Hayden a thumbs-up as they did so. Clemmie shoved them gently in the back and mouthed “sorry” at Hayden.
She liked Clemmie.
Luce was an ass.
By the time they were back, Hayden had four glasses poured and was setting the table. Her hands were clammy as she put the salad in the center. It was strange to be putting on such a show. But they’d finally bitten the bullet and picked a day, after offering so many times for Luce and Clemmie to come around for dinner. That date turned out to be the four-month anniversary of their wedding, which they’d decided to mention at dinner. It was the kind of thing they should draw attention to.
Hayden sighed. Being married was hard work.
