Irregular Heartbeat

by Chris Zett

  Diana hadn’t brushed off the brusque rejection yet, but she couldn’t leave her stranded. The rain didn’t look as if it would let up anytime soon. She stopped the car and opened the side window. “Emily?”

  Emily hesitated for a moment but finally ran over to the car.

  An icy gust of wind assaulted Diana as she got out to open the trunk. She put the wet cardboard box inside and hastened back to the front. When they were both in the front seats, she turned the heater to maximum.

  Rivulets of water dripped from Emily’s hair on her shoulders, drenching the thin jacket she had put on instead of her scrub shirt. The front gaped open, and the tight, white T-shirt underneath it was nearly see-through now, clinging to curves Diana hadn’t noticed before.

  What are you doing? Ogling a colleague was still a bad idea. Diana tore her gaze away.

  Emily shivered and tried to warm her hands in the air that blasted out of the vents. “Thank you. I’m sorry I was short with you.” Her voice was almost drowned out by the noise of the hot air.

  Diana waited, but no other explanation was coming. She decided to let it go. “It’s okay. Where can I drive you?”

  “I live close to Green Lake Park. East of it.”

  “No problem.” The wipers had cleared the windshield, and Diana put the car into gear. “I live there too.”

  “Really? It’s a small wonder we really haven’t met in the supermarket yet.” Emily closed her eyes and leaned back.

  They didn’t talk for the rest of the short drive.

  “We’re nearly here.”

  Diana’s words seemed to wake Emily. She looked around and then pointed to a street. “Take that one and then the second one on the right. I live just down the road.”

  The neighborhood consisted mostly of beautiful older one- and two-story houses, and Emily’s building seemed to have been converted into apartments with separate entrances on both levels. Painted an inoffensive beige, it was nearly hidden behind a couple of old trees.

  The rain had dwindled again as Diana retrieved the box. The cardboard was soggy, and the bottom already bent, as if it would burst any second. She wrapped both arms around it to steady it, awkwardly clutching her keys in one hand.

  Emily opened her arms to take it from her, and Diana shook her head.

  “Let me carry it. I’m afraid it’ll give if I let go of it for a second. Can you close the trunk?” Diana pushed the lock button on her car key and strode toward the house. She hoped Emily would follow without another discussion.

  Emily overtook her and led her up an outside staircase to the second floor. She unlocked the door and reached for the box. “Thank you. I can take it from here.”

  Diana grimaced and held it more tightly to her chest. “Just tell me where to put it. I already feel it tearing.” Plus, she was curious about how Emily lived.

  Emily’s gaze flicked from the box to the inside of the apartment and back. Finally, she shrugged and led the way through a narrow hall, motioning to Diana to go ahead while she pulled off her shoes and jacket.

  The apartment was a surprise. Diana hadn’t thought about what she’d expect, but this place full of bookcases wasn’t it. The hall was lined with them and blurred the border to the living room, where they concealed every wall. Only the doors and windows were left free. Some of the bookcases had glass doors, obviously to protect older books. Stacks of books and journals cluttered every surface: a big chair, part of the couch that wasn’t covered with an old quilt, and all the tables. Diana looked around for a place to put the soggy cardboard, not wanting to damage the books or the hardwood floor.

  Emily opened a door. “Please, put it in the kitchen. The tiles won’t mind the water.”

  Diana passed her and entered a room that looked exactly as she’d guessed: white tiles, white walls, the minimum amount of storage in white cabinets, and work space with ridiculously clean surfaces. She put the box on the floor in a corner and turned around.

  Emily stood in the doorway, watching her. “Not what you expected?” The corners of her mouth twitched upward in a rare show of humor.

  Diana shook her head. She waved her hand vaguely in the direction of the stove. “You don’t cook?” She smiled to avoid any hint of criticism.

  The twitching corners widened into a grin. “I’m not such a stereotype of busy career woman. I cook, then I clean up. Do you want some tea?” Emily switched the water kettle on. “Or coffee?”

  “Tea would be great, thanks,” Diana said.

  “What kind?” She opened a cupboard with dozens of neatly stacked, colorful packages. “I’m afraid collecting tea is a weakness of mine.”

  Diana wanted to ask about the other weaknesses but bit her tongue, afraid to test the extent of Emily’s playful mood. She studied the teas and finally picked one in a vibrant orange-red box. The colors promised warmth.

  Emily chose the same for herself, put them in oversized mismatched mugs that looked handmade, and poured the boiling water over the tea bags. “Five minutes. I’m going to change out of my wet clothes real fast. Do you need anything?”

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Make yourself at home.” Emily gestured toward the living room. “I’ll be back in a second.”

  Diana’s wet sneakers squelched on the hardwood floor. She hesitated but finally slipped out of them and carried them to the narrow hallway. On her way back she took her time to study the books. Some were medical texts, several others nonfiction. Old textbooks in unusually large formats stood side by side with modern paperback copies of the same topic. She let her fingers glide over the spines as she slowly wandered from shelf to shelf. Did she use the Dewey Decimal Classification? Okay. That definitely exceeded her expectations, but it was cute, in a geeky way. The many nonmedical books came as a surprise as well. Entire shelves were dedicated to natural science, but nearly as many were fiction. Classics slightly outnumbered the contemporary authors. No lesbian fiction, though. Either she didn’t like them, or she kept the good stuff in her bedroom. If she even was a lesbian or bi. Diana had never thought about it at work, but her gaydar had pinged at the club and today.

  After a round through the living room, she moved the stack of journals to the side table so she could sit in the chair. Sticky notes peeked out from the pages of the recent editions of several major medical publications. She took the latest Journal of Emergency Medicine and leafed through it until a case report captured her attention.

  “Here’s your tea.” Emily put the mug next to the stack of journals.

  Diana let out an undignified shriek. She hadn’t heard Emily coming back. “Uh…um…thanks.”

  Emily laughed and sat on the couch. She had dried her hair and touched up her makeup. “Find something interesting?” She gestured toward the various stacks of books and journals scattered around the room. “I’m sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.”

  “No problem. You better not see my place right now.” The truth was, it was cleaner than ever. She didn’t have the energy to do anything that would mess up her apartment most evenings, but she didn’t want to admit that. She decided to deflect the conversation back to Emily and gestured toward the bookshelves. “How long have you been collecting?”

  “All my life.” Emily shrugged. “My parents were both librarians. A lot of the older texts and first editions were their idea of a fun birthday or Christmas present.” She pointed toward one of the glass cabinets.

  “Were? Are they retired?”

  “My mother is. But she is still volunteering at the town library and at the local high school.” Emily stared into her tea.

  “And your father?” The question popped out of Diana’s mouth before she could censor herself. Before she could take it back, Emily answered, her voice so low that Diana could barely hear her.

  “He’s dead.”

  “I’m sorry.” Now it was Dian
a’s turn to stare uncomfortably into her own mug while Emily straightened a stack of journals on the side table. She waited, but nothing more was coming. Diana searched for a safe topic because by now Emily probably regretted that she had invited her up. She decided to take a leap of faith. “I’ve never really wanted to study medicine.”

  That caused Emily to look up from her tea.

  “My parents are both doctors. Well, when I was growing up, my mother was more of a housewife. But my father is a family doctor. He lives and breathes medicine. Three of my brothers studied medicine as well. I just fell into it because it was easier to do what they expected. My real love was music, but I knew they would never support me. So I compromised and took all the pre-med courses at college while I did my BS in music. The fact that I got into med school despite my lack of enthusiasm is a miracle.”

  Emily frowned and started to say something.

  Diana continued before she could interrupt. “But then I loved it. Not so much studying the basic science requirements, but learning about the different pathomechanisms. I loved the hunt for clues in the symptoms and medical history and the moment it suddenly all falls into place, when you have a diagnosis and can find a treatment.”

  Emily leaned forward, and her gray eyes reflected the light like steel. “But you didn’t quit the music? You still played in a band? Or did that come later?”

  “No. I didn’t quit. I was in the same band since college with my girlfriend and my best friend, Mel.”

  “Did you start your residency after med school, or did you take some time off?”

  Emily’s tone reminded her of an interrogation, but she ignored it. At least they were talking.

  “I started right away.” Diana shook her head. “I was so naive. I thought I could continue just like college and med school. Do some ED shifts, practice or perform after work. Play in the clubs on the weekend. Party all night. In the beginning, it worked out great. Work was fun; I learned new things daily, and all this energy fueled my playing. But after a year or so, things changed.” Diana hesitated. She had the urge to be honest with Emily, but she doubted she would be respected for it. Emily would probably kick her out and never talk to her again outside work. But there was a slight chance she’d value honesty as much as Diana did, and playing it safe hadn’t helped her in the past. She took a deep breath and sat straighter. “I made some stupid choices. I didn’t handle the stress or the pressure to conform well. The hierarchy in medicine got on my nerves, and I chafed at the rules and discipline. Sometimes I just called in sick to go and play in concerts. My head was not always with my work.” She clenched the mug with both hands and took a sip to get rid of the tightness in her throat. The warmth soothed her, and the hint of ginger just burned enough to jolt her out of her self-reproachful thoughts.

  Emily just watched her, the professional mask Diana knew so well from the hospital firmly in place.

  Diana decided to get it all out in the open. “I was thinking about quitting. I’d played around with the idea for a while. And I’m sure the hospital thought about letting me go as well. Then came the offer I couldn’t refuse. A record deal and not just with any label. A big label and the deal came complete with an international tour and everything. So I left my work behind, and we took our band to the next level.” She chuckled. “Or we skipped a few levels.”

  Emily’s expression softened a little. Maybe she was willing to listen to the full story. “Did you ever regret it?”

  “Not at first, but… We did seven records in eight years. That was too much. The quality of the last two is… Well, I wouldn’t recommend them. Not surprisingly, that job came with its own set of stress, pressure, and discipline problems. Katie—my partner—and I split but continued living and working together. At first it was okay, but then… Let’s just say she made some bad choices, and I didn’t handle that too well either.” Diana didn’t want to go into that particular mess right now. She hoped Emily would let it go.

  “Is that why you quit the band? The stress? Or the personal problems?” Emily’s gaze dug into her like a probe trying to reach the deeper layers of a wound.

  Diana didn’t mind the exploration. She had flushed out the hidden debris long ago. The tone suggested the question was not only about her past. Emily wanted to know how she would handle the inevitable pressure at work in the future. “Neither. I grew up. I learned to cope with the stress. My anger at the unfairness of the world receded. But then there was an incident, and it triggered something in me.” Her throat constricted. She took a large gulp of her tea, wishing her memory of that night could be as easily washed away as the sour taste in her mouth. “I thought long and hard about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I asked myself where I could see myself in ten, fifteen years. And surprisingly, that wasn’t on a stage but at a hospital. This time I didn’t decide anything overnight. I read medical journals again, watched some lectures online, and attended a few conferences. In the end, the decision to return to medicine was an easy one.”

  Emily nodded at her last words. “At work, it shows that you know a lot about the latest studies.”

  So, she had noticed. Diana liked that. But then, there wasn’t much Emily didn’t notice at work. She just never let on that she did. Maybe now was the time to talk about their work relationship again. Or should she just let it go? Maybe things would grow organically from here on.

  “Am I the first person at work you’ve told all this?” Emily’s question startled Diana from her thoughts.

  Diana shrugged. “Even if my contract wouldn’t forbid me to, I wouldn’t want to tell anyone. I’m not bonding so much on a personal level with the other residents. We get along fine, but we’re not in the same phase of our lives. And I don’t know them well enough to trust them with my story.”

  Emily studied her mug again.

  Diana wanted to rip it from her hands to provoke a reaction. Anything was better than this protracted silence. But, of course, she didn’t.

  When Emily finally looked up again, her frown had disappeared. “Thank you for trusting me.”

  Diana offered a smile that Emily returned. It eased her trepidation about the conversation. Maybe Emily really got it.

  “What you said the other day about the work atmosphere… It’s possible that… I overreacted. Can we just rewind and start over?”

  A mixture of hope and relief flooded Diana. She made a twirling motion with her finger as if rewinding an old-fashioned tape, and both laughed.

  Diana sobered fast. She had to get it right this time. Another chance might not come again. “What I want to tell you is that I noticed a change in our interaction. In the beginning, I liked coming to work and was looking forward to being on the same shift with you. You taught me things, and I thought you gradually trusted me to take over more responsibility. Now I constantly feel as if I did something majorly wrong. But I don’t know what it was. The only incident that fits the timing was our encounter at the club. Is keeping my secret putting a strain on our working relationship?”

  “No, it’s not the secret. I checked with Dr. Wallace, and what you said is true. He asked you to keep it quiet, and I agree with his decision. I’ve got to admit I judged you unfairly. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m pretty dedicated to my work.” She grimaced. “I thought you were only playing at being a doctor, and I doubted your motives without even asking you. So I amped up the pressure to see if you’re taking the job seriously.” She bit her lip and blushed but held Diana’s gaze. “I’m sorry. That was not a good method.”

  Diana couldn’t agree more. She decided not to dwell on it. Emily’s social and leadership skills might be lacking, but her intentions were good. She tried to convey the sincerity of her next question. “I want to return to our old working relationship. What can I do?”

  Emily studied her for a long time.

  Diana tried hard not to fidget under her gaze. She coul
dn’t interpret her expression.

  “No, we can’t return to the relationship we had,” Emily finally said.

  Diana struggled to hide her disappointment. She swallowed and took a sip of her tepid tea. “Okay. I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what she was apologizing for, but what else could she say? Standing up, she looked from Emily to the door and back. “I’ll leave you to your tea. See you on Monday.”

  Emily reached out as if to hold her back. “Wait. That’s not…” She ran her hand through her hair. “What I was trying to say is… I think we have to start anew. I can’t forget what I learned about you in the last few weeks, especially not what you said today. I…I respect you for your choices. I couldn’t have said that last week.”

  A heavy weight was lifted from Diana’s chest. She collapsed into her seat. “And I respect you for the time and passion you invest in your work. Do you think we can work something out from here?”

  Emily nodded. “We’ll be fine at work.” A subtle shift in her posture showed she had been tense. Her shoulders loosened, and she sank minimally into her seat. The transformation was simple, but it made her look younger. She raised one foot onto the seat and hugged her bent leg. “So, tell me about the concert I’ve seen. What’s your connection to the band?”

  Chapter 8

  “Dr. Barnes, stop!” Courtney barely managed to not crash into Emily.

  Will that girl ever learn?

  “My patient… Diana, I mean, Dr. Petrell—She’s intubating him.”

  That got Emily to move. “What’s the diagnosis?” She turned toward the direction Courtney had come from. Only years of practice helped her fight the urge to run.

  “I don’t know.” Courtney hurried to catch up to her. “He seemed okay, just a little short of breath.”

  Emily rolled her eyes. That was a typical answer for the second-year resident. “Has Dr. Petrell asked for me?” It had been years since Emily’s pulse had raced at the thought of an emergency, but the idea of Diana being in over her head did that to her.