by Robin Leaf
“You still play a game that hasn’t really been popular in years with the man who cheated on you?”
She finally looks up at me and blinks twice. “You say that like it’s weird.”
“It is weird.”
“Why is it weird? Walker and I have been together for twelve years, and we were friends before anything else. I don’t harbor any ill will toward him for what happened in our marriage.”
“He could have talked to you about his sexuality before he cheated on you. If you were such good friends, wouldn’t you have been supportive?”
She rolls her tongue across her lips, and again, I find myself really wanting to follow that path with my own tongue.
“I’m not sure how I would have handled it. I felt him pulling away from me, and my neurotic insecurity made me think it was because something was wrong with me. It’s hard, when you don’t understand what’s happening, to get past the hurt and not become defensive, which drives the wedge deeper. I know now that he was having a tough time coming to grips with his identity, but he did marry me, so yeah, we both handled things wrong. I know a part of him still loves me, and it’s mutual because it’s always been friendly between us, and I thought it was how marriage was supposed to be because that’s how my parents’ marriage is. I’ve never really had an experience with passionate or romantic love.” She looks quickly to me, widening her eyes, then averts her gaze and blushes. “Anyway, Walker and I are working on learning how to be friends again now that our dynamic has changed.”
“And you’re doing that through an outdated game app on your phone?”
She shakes her head and smiles while dipping her sandwich carefully in her tomato soup. “We’ve talked a few times. He tells me how much he misses me.”
Watching her lips as she takes a bite is almost erotic. Maybe it’s her comment about how she doesn’t know what passionate love is like. I mean, I may not know much about being in love, but I know passion. I really want to show those fucking spectacular lips what a passionate kiss feels like, but I don’t want her thinking about her ex while I do it.
What the fuck, Dugger? You can’t kiss her.
“If Walker misses you, like he wants you back, is it possible that he could be your stalker?” I ask, hoping that I can distract myself with this line of questioning.
“No,” she giggles, covering her mouth while she chews. “Although Walker the Stalker is a fantastic nickname, there’s no way he could be. His company moved him to their Austin office in June.”
“So, he’s Walker living in Texas now?”
“Yes, and don’t think the ‘Texas Ranger’ jokes haven’t been tossed around repeatedly. It’s my civic duty as his ex and his friend to give him shit about it.”
“It’d be a crime if you didn’t.”
She sighs, looking off into the distance for a few seconds, and the edges of her eyes crinkle. “But even if he hadn’t moved,” she continues in a softer voice, “Walker wouldn’t do anything like this.”
She smiles, and it looks a little sad, like she remembers something she’ll miss. I watch her work through the emotions of whatever memory she has dredged up while she stirs her soup, watching the noodles chase the carrots in the bowl.
When it seems she’s rejoined the present and puts a spoonful of soup in her mouth, I ask, “When are we going to talk about your stalker?”
She rolls her eyes, and I find it cute.
“Ember,” another nurse calls from the doorway. “They just brought Miss Mabel in again, and she’s asking for you. She’s in two.”
My ears perk up at the name Mabel. It can’t be the same one, can it? No way. I’m not that lucky. There have to be a million Mabels in the world, right?
She hurriedly takes one more bite of soup and stands, gathering her trash. “Looks like we’ll have to do it this evening.”
I put my fingers on her forearm to stop her before she can walk away. “Is Mabel’s last name Bellamy?”
Holy shit, she nods. “How do you –”
“Can you let her know Dugger is here. And when she’s stable, if she says it’s okay, ask her if I can see her?”
She looks like she is going to argue, so I run my hand down her wrist to her hand, grabbing it and squeezing it lightly. When I do… fuck. The jolt of electricity I feel travel from my arm to my chest stuns me momentarily, making me close my eyes. I grip her hand tighter and pause for a second, waiting to see if maybe there’s more to come, but other than my rapid breathing, it seems to be a one-time thing.
When I open my eyes, I find hers widened and focused on me. Her eyebrows are raised and her mouth is open, like a deer in headlights, and her breathing matches mine.
Did she feel it, too?
Her eyes look down at our still-joined hands and back up to me. She shakes her hand out of mine, and my eyes follow her hasty retreat toward the door. Moving quickly, yet unstably, she takes a second to lean on the door frame to steady herself or maybe to catch her breath. I find I’m gripping the back of my chair for the same reason.
“Blue,” I call out right before she bolts. “Please, tell Mabel I’m here.”
Nodding without turning around, she leaves.
Eleven
Ember
Holy shit, what the hell was that?
God, when he touched me at first, I felt a little zap to my core, but then, when he grabbed my hand…
I was struck by lightning.
Seriously, my whole body lit up, like every synapse in my entire nervous system fired at that exact moment. I’m surprised I didn’t glow. Hell, my heart has yet to slow down.
So here I am, leaning against this door inside the maintenance closet, taking a minute to get this shit under control. If I allow myself to analyze the situation, I might possibly pay attention to the realization that he was just as affected as I am. But I cannot go there.
Fuck, if this is how I react when he simply grabs my hand, how the hell will I survive anything… more? If he does something else like, I don’t know, touches my shoulder or puts his lips anywhere near or, God help me, on any of my parts, I may leave behind nothing but a smoking crater in the earth. Kids will visit the spot on family vacations to read the marker: “Here, on this spot, Ember Nicole Zills was finally kissed properly.”
Oh my God, sex with him just might take out half of Los Angeles.
I have to save myself, and you know, all the people of Earth, by getting as far away from him as possible. My ever-clenching vagina in the presence of this man now makes sense. She doesn’t want me to climb aboard and ride him like a rocket into space. Nope. She’s trying to warn me that he’ll rocket me into space, only in this case, literally, complete with Ember-annihilating dissipation upon re-entry.
Jeez, it’s hot in this closet. I’m sweating through my scrubs.
I hear a knock. “You okay, Ember?”
I recognize that voice.
“I’m fine, Ned. I just had a problem with my underwear.”
Nice save, and amazingly, not quite a lie. They’ve melted to me, I’m sure.
“Right. Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
I hear his steps retreat and sink against the door.
Focus, Ember. A job… you have a job to do. Carefully opening the door, I check to see that the hallway is clear, so I make my way toward the desk.
I approach Tiffany and ask, “What room did you say Mabel was in?”
Tiffany smirks. “Yeah, I’d look dazed, too, after eating across from that guy. Who is he?”
I lower my voice. “Someone my uncle hired to keep me safe from my stalker.”
“Jeez, from where? Hire a hunk?” She smiles and pats my shoulder. “Mabel’s in two, sweetie.”
I sigh and walk toward my favorite patient wishing I had my student nurse with me.
Jasmine, the student who was supposed to shadow me today, called in sick for the second time this week. She’s the best student I’ve ever had, but she’s been acting weird the last two days. Either she’s p
regnant, which I seriously doubt, or she’s deciding that nursing is not her thing. I’ve seen it happen so many times, but I’ll be surprised if she’s questioning her choices. Plus, I could really use her as a buffer right now, someone to force me to behave like a fucking adult and not a hormonal tween who’s spazzing out because her crush touched her hand. The thing is, I don’t remember being electrocuted by any crush at twelve. Of course, my crush didn’t come with a beard, strong muscles, tattoos, and dreamy eyes like this guy’s.
Luckily, Miss Mabel Bellamy is the sweetest little spitfire and will provide the best distraction from the paroxysm each one of my major body systems can’t seem to fight.
Is this how I’m going to die, cardiac arrest as a result of hand holding? That’s a new one.
I round the corner to see Miss Mabel, oxygen mask on her face, fighting with the controls on her bed.
“Here, Miss Mabel, let me help you with that.”
She stops struggling and relaxes against her pillows. Once she focuses on me, her eyes widen.
“Good lord, girlie, what’s wrong?” she says at her normal volume: loud. The woman is practically deaf and refuses to get hearing aids.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Right, you look all flushed and mussed.” She pulls me in closer and lowers her voice, but since her regular volume is shouting, this is everyone else’s normal. “Did you just have some hot supply-closet sex?” Her eyebrows waggle at me. “I watch those doctor shows, so I know what goes on around hospitals between doctors and nurses.”
Man, I must look pretty bad for her to think I had sex. Almost combusting from a severe hand holding with a man who sets my vagina into meltdown mode must look like the equivalent to a quickie with a doctor in a supply closet.
I smile, but it’s forced. “No, ma’am. I just ran to get to my favorite patient. And you know those shows aren’t real, right?”
“Hmph.” She settles back onto the bed. “I saw that sexy young doctor eyeing you last time I was here.”
I pull the cart over so I can hook her up to take her vitals. “No, Dr. Honma’s wife is pretty scary. She could kick my ass.” I wink at her, and she smiles. “By the way, when you see him, you need to congratulate him. Their daughter just had their third grandchild.”
“Is he that old? Man, I need to get better glasses. I would have guessed him to be about forty.”
I smile at her, placing the blood pressure cuff around her arm. “He does look pretty good for his age.”
“I mean, he’s no Elvis,” she says, laying back against her pillow, “but he’ll do.”
She holds out her finger, knowing the drill. I put the oxygen monitor on her finger and push the button for the machine to begin taking her blood pressure. In the meantime, I place the thermometer in her mouth and wait for it to beep.
Once that’s all finished, I ask, “What happened today, Mabel?”
“I had another one of my spells.”
“Yeah, your blood pressure is a little low. Did you pass out this time?”
I check her eyes, and see that the nystagmus, her uncontrolled eye movement, is worse than last time I saw her.
“I guess. I went to the kitchen to fix my tea, and the next think I know, I’m waking up on the kitchen floor with the tea kettle screaming like mad.”
“That’s the third time in almost three weeks. Did you hurt anything?”
“No, all my parts work, but I probably will have a bruise on my backside.”
“We’ll check it out. Did you call the ambulance,” I pause before I ask, already knowing the answer, “or did your grandson?”
“No, that little twit’s never home, says he’s off doing some promoting stuff, whatever that means. I took an Uber here.”
I raise my eyebrow. “You called… an Uber?”
“Yeah, the ambulance took thirty minutes to get to the house last time. That there Uber app said someone could be there in five. I barely had time to get my purse.” She nods. “Now that’s service.”
Shaking my head, I have to bite back my laugh. “Miss Mabel, you could have needed immediate medical attention.”
“Are you not listening? That’s why I called Uber. I got here fifteen minutes after I made the call. And Steven, the driver, helped me to the car. Such a sweet boy, and he didn’t smell like bleu cheese like the last guy did. Anyway, the ambulance would have taken too long. I think 9-1-1 avoids my calls.”
I have to hide my chuckle. “I don’t think it works that way. How are the headaches and the double vision?”
“I don’t know, probably about the same. I find that if I close one eye, I can watch Netflix just fine.”
I take out the ECG electrodes and begin to place them on her chest. “Have you talked to your grandson about the retirement village I told you about? They have a doctor on site, so you wouldn’t have to come here.”
“Gah, I don’t want to live with a bunch of old people. I want to go back to my other house. At least there –”
“You know you can’t live alone. I thought your son was going to hire a nurse.”
“He did, but I think she only got the job based on her bra size. The little gold-digging trollop just wanted to get in my grandson’s pants, so I fired her ass.”
No hiding my laugh that escapes this time. “Have you at least been taking your medicine?”
“It makes me sleepy. I can’t stay up and watch that sexy British baker you told me about.” She hums. “I just wish he’d take off his shirt. I do love me a shirtless man.”
“Well, who doesn’t?”
“I used to have a young man that lived next door. Remember, I told you about him? The boy I asked to help me get it ready to sell? Girly, I’d introduce you to him in a heartbeat. Oh, Lordy, he did look like a blonde Elvis, but bigger, bulkier, ya know? And he’d go shirtless when he’d do chores around the house for me.” She weakly fans herself. “I suspect he’d lose at strip poker on purpose just to give me a thrill. Such a good boy.” She sighs. “Man, I miss Dugger a lot.”
Sweet old lady says what?
“Did you say Dugger?”
“Yes, it was a nickname. He was such a dear and took better care of me than that ungrateful brat my son raised. I tried to remember his number, but my head isn’t as clear as it used to be. My grandson got me a new phone when I lost my other one, and all my numbers were gone. I can’t for the life of me remember the name of the tattoo shop where Dugger worked, either. I would love to see him again.”
Dude, I’ll so risk combusting to give this sweet lady what she wants.
I watch the monitor for a minute. This woman, despite her “spells,” has the heart of a much younger woman. I only hope to be as strong when I’m in my eighties.
“Mabel, will you be okay for a few minutes? I need to go get something from the breakroom.”
“Where am I gonna go?”
“No telling, Miss Sassy pants.”
“Okay, but can you hand me my purse? I wanna put on my lips before that sexy doctor comes in. Gotta look my best. You may not tempt him, but I might, and I’m not afraid of any wife.”
My giggle is not exactly quiet as I pass her purse to her.
She pulls out a lipstick, takes the lid off, and… wait, am I seeing that right?
“Miss Mabel, is that lipstick shaped like a… penis?”
She pulls it away and examines it. “Oh, yeah. Someone, I suspect that stupid homecare nurse I fired, sent me a bunch of these with a note that said to ‘eat a bag of dicks.’” She shrugs. “I like this color, so joke’s on her.”
I chuckle, placing her purse back on the counter.
Before I walk out the door, I point my finger at her. “And no pushing buttons on the machinery, got it?”
She waves her hand at me. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, killjoy.”
I hurry to the breakroom to find Dugger reading a book, with fucking glasses on. Jesus, one sexy bad-boy nerd to go, please.
Yes, I get it, vagina. But this act of kindness is m
ore important than your warnings of mass destruction. Simmer down.
“Good news,” I say excitedly. “Mabel actually brought your name up without prompting. She said she wishes she could see you. I thought I’d bring you in to surprise her.”
He uses an actual bookmark, which gives him extra-credit points for not dog-earring the page, and removes his glasses, forearms rippling as he places them carefully in a case. Every move this man makes is like fucking porn to me. Geez, I can’t even look at him without wanting to combust.
I wait for him to stand before I turn and walk toward where Mabel is. I can’t risk getting too close. Like the Blues Brothers, I’m on a mission from God.
We round the corner into her hallway, and a familiar sound begins… a sound that always makes my heart drop. The monitors are going crazy.
I rush into her room with Dugger and several other nurses on my heels.
“What’s happening?” he asks, watching everyone move around her while she convulses on the bed.
“She’s having a seizure,” I try to say as calmly as possible, pushing gently against his chest. “I need you to step out of the way.”
~ ~ ~
“There you are,” I breathe out, relieved Mabel’s opened eyes finally have some focus to them. It’s probably not exactly very professional of me to react that way, but this woman is special. “Can you tell me your name?”
She closes her eyes and swallows. “Why? D’you forget my name, Girly?”
Her sass is a welcomed sound.
When her eyes focus on me again, she furrows her brows. “Does my lipstick look okay?”
I chuckle. “Only you would care about your makeup at a time like this.”
“Did I have another spell?”
“You had a seizure,” I tell her gently. “And I’m wondering if your worsening ‘spells’ have been small seizures.”
She blinks. “I’ve never had two in one day before.”
“Dr. Honma is ordering a CT scan, but you know he is going to want to discuss an MRI again.”
Her eyes widen. “No, I told that man several times that you crazy people aren’t putting me in any damn machine.”
