by Jewel Ann
He does?
How can he so quickly tell that I had hot, pounding, multiple-orgasm sex with Dr. Hawkins? Am I glowing?
“I’ll wait.” He winks, stepping off the elevator a floor before mine. “Message me your address, Dorothy. See you Tuesday.”
* * *
Elijah
Monday morning I fly to San Francisco for the two-day conference. When I messaged Dorothy Sunday night to tell her goodbye, she gave her usual “Okay, goodbye” reply. She needs her space. I respect that, but it doesn’t make me crave time with her any less.
I tell myself I’ll be cool and not text or call her while I’m traveling, but I can’t lie … I’m a little disappointed she makes no effort to communicate with me. Again, I have to remember Dorothy is not Julie or any other woman I have ever known. So while this is ninety percent a really great thing, I have to deal with the ten percent that sucks. And her lack of need for regular contact with me is that sucky ten percent. It makes me feel needy, and I’m really not a needy person.
“Welcome back. How was the conference?” Warren asks Wednesday morning before rounds as he sips his coffee in the lounge.
“Fine.” I glance at my tablet. “Brandon’s last day of chemo. God … I need this to work.”
“He breezes through everything. I see him getting back on the field next year.” Warren stands and pulls on his lab coat.
“Mmm …” I nod, opening a bottle of water. “I hope so.”
“So … any suggestions for a second date?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask without glancing up from my tablet.
“I took Dorothy to dinner last night. I’m thinking a play or something like that for our next date.”
I lift my gaze slowly to meet his smirk. There is no way I heard him correctly.
“Say that again.”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
“I took Dorothy to dinner last night—”
“Dorothy Mayhem?”
He laughs. “Uh … yeah. Dude, you were here last week when I sent her the cookie bouquet that you suggested. Remember?”
I nod slowly, clenching my tablet with an iron grip while gnashing my teeth.
“Where you going?” he asks as I pivot and exit the lounge.
Dorothy has school, but I have to text her even if she doesn’t respond. It’s either a text to her phone or a fist in Warren’s face.
Me: We need to talk about your date with Warren.
It takes her an hour to respond. While in the middle of rounds, I glance at my phone screen.
Dorothy: Ugh! He took me on a FONDUE DATE! (five vomit emojis)
“Dr. Hawkins?”
I return my attention to the patient’s mom. “Yes?”
Warren has the nerve to frown at me, the way I used to frown at him before I banned him from being on his phone during rounds.
“School. Will she be able to stay in school while receiving radiation?”
I can’t stop thinking about Warren and Dorothy. Even as I spew off my answer to the mom, a woman who deserves my full attention, I can’t shake the anger.
* * *
Dorothy
After class, I respond to Eli’s last text which was:
Dr. Hawkins: I’m either coming to your house or you’re coming to mine, but we are talking tonight.
Me: I’m taking Gemma to car wash dog wash night. (water emoji, dog emoji, car emoji)
Dr. Hawkins: Gemma and your dirty car can wait. I can’t.
Dorothy: The free dog wash is only on Wednesdays. (shrug emoji)
Me: I don’t give a shit.
Someone is in a bad mood. I’ll pass on that. I shake my head.
Me: Call me tomorrow after the market. See … I’m letting you call me. (smiley emoji, high-five emoji)
Dr. Hawkins: I’m going for a run. After I shower, I’m coming to your house. Deal with it.
He really needs to add some emojis. In my head I imagine angry emojis, but he has no reason to be angry … at least, not with me. Maybe he has issues at work or with Dr. Hathaway and needs someone to talk to.
Me: Okay. (smiley emoji, high-five emoji)
After a car wash and dog wash, I take my routine walk, eat dinner, shower, and play Xbox, waiting for Eli. At 10:20 p.m., my phone chimes. Stomach-flu Hailey from the ICU messages me—well, it’s actually a group message. I hate group messages.
Hailey: OMG – Dr. Hawkins is seriously injured!
I stare at my screen, not fully believing what’s popping up—the long string of responses from everyone else in the group text. I have nothing to say because my brain is stuck in denial.
WTF? What happened?
Is he going to live?
When? What happened?
OMFG are you serious?
Deets … we need ALL the deets.
He fell off a ledge on a trail.
Had to be airlifted.
Took two hours to get him out.
Really fucking steep cliff.
They’re taking him to surgery now at General.
I’m off in ten. I’m going straight there to find out more. I’ll update soon.
After reading all the texts from the group, I run straight to my parents’ bedroom and throw open the door.
They look up from their adjustable bed, illuminated by the TV screen. Grey’s Anatomy. Always Grey’s Anatomy.
“What’s wrong?” Mom asks.
“Dr. Hawkins is going into surgery. He was jogging. Fell off the steep ledge of the trail. Hailey sent out a group text. He was supposed to come see me tonight. I’ve been waiting for him. I don’t know what to do. Stay? Go? I’m not family. I know they won’t tell me anything. Hailey will give better updates to the group text. But his parents will be there. Oh my god … poor Roman. He’s with Julie, but still … she’ll take him to the hospital, right? Or maybe not. I mean, if it’s bad, it could scare him. He’s three. Oh god …” I blink and feel a lot of tears fall down my face all at once. “What if he doesn’t live?”
It’s like they’re in bed one minute, and in that single blink, they’re hugging me.
“Go,” my mom says. “You definitely should go. I’ll drive you and stay with you until we know how he’s doing.”
I nod, batting away the tears. “Okay.”
We drive to General, and we’re met with an over-capacity waiting room of family, coworkers, and friends. I’m completely out of place—more so than usual. There’s no place to sit, so Mom and I huddle in a corner next to a window.
“I can get us coffees?” she suggests.
“Okay.”
After she leaves to grab us coffees, a tiny peephole forms in the throng of people, and on the other side of the room, I make what feels like accidental eye contact with Lori Hawkins. She looks oddly calm. No real decipherable expression on her face. Not that I’m an expert at that.
She slowly stands, releasing Kent’s hand, and worms her way toward me. “Dorothy, dear … come sit with us.” Her arms embrace me. I stiffen. After a few seconds, I flatten my hands and give her a few comforting pats.
“They’re trying to stop the internal bleeding. He was unresponsive when they arrived with him. God … we’re just so lucky someone happened to see him go over the edge, otherwise …” Her voice cracks.
Otherwise, he would have died and it would have taken days if not longer to find his body. Those lines I can read between.
“Where’s Roman?”
“He’s at home with Julie’s mom, Peggy. Come on.” She takes my hand and pulls me to the other side of the waiting room.
Kent gives me a sad smile as Lori introduces me to Eli’s sisters, Kendra and Molly, and their husbands and children. Julie is on the other side of Kent with red eyes and a tissue wadded in her hand. I smile at her. She glances in the other direction and wipes her eyes. Kent rests his hand on her back and rubs circles on it while she leans into him.
“Sit, Dorothy. I’ve sat far too long. I think I need to
take a walk. Kent, message me if you hear anything.” Lori releases my hand and points to the seat on the other side of Kent.
“My mom’s here. She drove me. She went to get coffee. I’m good. I don’t need to sit right now.”
Lori nods. “Okay. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
Here I stand … in front of Eli’s family and Dr. Hathaway, who is either really sad about the accident—too sad to even smile at me—or she’s still upset about the farmer’s market incident. I can’t blame her either way.
“Hey, here you go.” Mom hands me a cup of coffee. I turn toward her and take a few steps back to distance us from Eli’s family.
“I guess you’re not going to introduce me, huh?” Mom gives me a look. The you-have-poor-manners look.
“Lori took a walk. Dr. Hathaway is on his dad’s right, crying. I know Kent’s name, but I already forgot Eli’s sisters’ names and the names of their spouses and kids. I would epically fail the introduction.”
“Fair enough.” Mom nods.
“I should have just gone to the cafeteria with you. We’re just going to wait here now for who knows how long, and eventually a doctor will come out and either say he’s dead or alive. Either way, I won’t be allowed to see him very soon, so …” I shrug.
“He’ll be fine. We have to believe that.”
I nod.
During the three remaining hours of surgery, I take the opportunity to introduce my mom to his family. After Lori comes back, we grab an early morning breakfast sandwich and a Dr. Pepper, and take a long walk around the block. Then two doctors come out to let his family know that they stopped all the bleeding. He has two fractured ribs, a broken fibula, a multitude of cuts and puncture wounds, and cerebral edema.
It’s a miracle he survived the fall. At least that’s the chatter going around the waiting room. And as bad as the list of injuries sounds … in the larger scope of things, they are minor injuries. He doesn’t need surgery for the fractures. And as long as the swelling in his brain goes down without any complications, he should make a full recovery.
The doctor said it will be another hour before family can see him, and even then, he probably won’t be conscious.
“I’m going home. I have school. I’m here if you need me. Just let me know. I can help with Roman or … whatever.” I nail my exit speech after practicing it during the last hour of surgery because I knew I wasn’t staying. In fact, I’m dying to get out of this waiting room.
“You should come back with us.” Lori gestures toward the ICU.
“I’m not family.”
“Dorothy …”
“I’ll check in tomorrow after school.”
Lori frowns. “Okay. We’ll make sure someone contacts you if anything changes.”
“Great. Thanks.”
I power walk straight out of the hospital.
“I noticed Dr. Hathaway was next to Eli’s dad, getting ready to go back with them to see Eli. Is she really still family?” Mom asks.
“I don’t know. I don’t care. He probably won’t wake up while they’re there. No need to stand in the corner of the room, watching a machine help him breathe.”
“Why was he planning on visiting you so late?” She follows me out the door.
“He wanted to talk. At first, he made it sound like he wanted to talk about my date with Dr. Warren. But I don’t know why that would be. I think it must have been something else because his messages seemed urgent.” I get in Mom’s Ford Escape.
“Wait … you went on a date with Dr. Warren?” She closes her door and starts the car.
“Yes.” I lean my head against the headrest. “I was going to tell you about it, but you were asleep, and then I just forgot about it, more like blocked it from my memory. He took me for fondue. I just couldn’t. It was so gross. I can’t believe those restaurants are even legal. It’s just a melting pot of nasty germs. A haven for chronic double-dippers. I’m not gonna lie, my stomach hasn’t been right ever since. I think I caught something. Tomorrow I’m going to request blood and stool tests. Legit, I ate one bite, the first one, but you know they don’t wash those pots between customers. They just pour in more milk and cheese, crank up the heat, and assume it will self-decontaminate from the heat. Wrong!”
“Wait … did you and Eli break up?”
Wow, she doesn’t seem to care about my fondue distress at all.
“No. I mean … I don’t know what we are or were. It’s not like we talked about it. We have sex. Good sex. But I’m not sure mutually sharing autonomic nervous system responses necessarily makes us a couple.”
“Autonomic what?”
“Orgasms. We have sex. I told you last Sunday that staying the night was a complete disaster. We’re not spooning and whispering I love you’s. It’s like hooking up, but with food, and sometimes a playdate with Roman. And he didn’t want me to tell Dr. Warren about us, and Warren had already asked me out and I’d accepted. So what choice did I have? I went on the awful fondue date, but I told him with plenty of notice that we would not have sex. I’m not interested in having sex with anyone but Eli right now.”
“Yes, Dorothy.” Mom laughs. “Sex with only one person. It’s called monogamy. You’re in a monogamous relationship with Eli. You’re a couple. You’re his girlfriend.”
I wrinkle my nose, not really believing her reasoning, even if it does kind of make sense when I repeat it in my head.
“Whatever.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Could It Be Love?
Elijah
Lights.
Way too bright.
Beeping.
Way too loud.
Pain.
Way too excruciating.
Fuck …
Everything hurts. Even my eyelids protest, especially my left eye. It takes me a little bit to realize I can’t open it.
My throat …
Something’s in my throat.
The sounds. My eye. My throat … I’m in the hospital. What happened?
The echo of voices thwarts my attempts to think back … to remember what happened.
Jesus … am I even alive? My head …
Yeah, I’m alive. Dead people don’t feel this kind of pain. Death doesn’t exactly sound terrible at the moment.
“Eli?”
Fucking hell! Ya mind not shining that light in my eye?
“Eli?” Mom.
My mom is here.
I force my right eye open a little more. The room dims a bit like someone dimmed the lights or shut the shades. The tube down my throat prevents me from thanking whomever did that, but I’m nonetheless thankful.
Mom … Her pensive face comes into focus.
“Eli. They’re going to remove your breathing tube.”
That’s great. Except I know from my medical training that removing tubes is not exactly the best experience for the patient. I like being the doctor. The patient? Not so much.
I follow the instructions as if I don’t know them plenty well.
Suction.
Deflate.
Remove.
I cough a few times before they put an oxygen mask over my mouth and nose.
Mom smiles as Dad comes into my line of sight. My one-eyed line of sight.
“Do you know what happened?” Mom asks as a medical team mills around my bed, checking vitals, monitors, reflexes.
My head eases side to side. It’s stiff. But it moves, so that’s a really good sign.
“You fell while out on the trail. It was a long fall. You’re going to be fine.”
I don’t remember that. Maybe that’s for the best. I just remember Dorothy and Warren and their fondue date. Date … how could she have sex with me and go out with him two nights later? Ha! I don’t like that memory, but it sure as hell feels good to know I have memories. So my head injuries can’t be that severe.
“How … long?”
“Two days.” Mom smiles again. Of course she smiles. I’m alive and only have been in a coma for two d
ays. Good news indeed. It could have been two years. Two years for Roman to forget me. Two years for Julie to remarry. Two years of not saving young lives. Two years for Dorothy to fall in love with Dr. Warren.
“Kendra and Molly will be here soon. Julie was going to get Roman dinner and take him to Peggy’s, but your dad just texted her, so she’s on her way now with Roman. He hasn’t been to the hospital since your accident. We didn’t want him seeing you unconscious.”
“Good,” I say in a hoarse voice.
“Dorothy said she’d check in on you after the end of her shift. I messaged her and she sent a string of emojis. She seems pretty excited to know you’re awake.”
“Okay.” I inwardly smile because it’s hard to actually form one on my face. My lower lip hurts. It’s probably cut or stitched or ripped off. I’m not sure.
While we wait for the rest of my family, they remove my oxygen mask and give me some ice chips. Mom continues to quiz me on my accident, but I can’t remember it. I remember everything else she asks me, which seems to please her and the other doctors.
“Daddy!”
Julie keeps a firm hold of Roman’s hand as he tries to sprint toward my bed. “Remember, Daddy is a little fragile right now. We have to be careful with him.” She lifts him up and sets him on the side of my bed. She smiles at me. It’s filled with a little sadness, but mostly relief. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t sense anything like resentment or guilt. It feels like the way my wife used to smile at me.
“Your eye. Daddy, look! Your eye is scary.”
“Yeah, well, it will get better soon. I won’t look scary forever.”
Julie uses one arm to keep Roman from getting too rough around me while her other hand squeezes mine. Tears fill her eyes. “I was so scared, Eli.”
I squeeze her hand back. “I’m sorry.”
She quickly wipes the stray tear from her cheek and laughs. “Don’t apologize. I’m just …” She swallows hard. “I’m just so relieved you’re here. It could have …” Her words break as more tears fill her eyes.
“Hey.” I squeeze her hand again. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
My mom hands Julie a tissue while Roman tries to climb off the bed.
