Page 33 of Let Leaves Lay Where They Fall

“It’s okay. Real...”

“Just follow me.” He ushers Nathan through the door with one massive, manicured hand gripping a shoulder.

They cross the hall into a treatment room.

“Sit.” He nods toward a chair in the corner. Fumbling in a cabinet and pulling out a tub of ointment. “This will numb the pain and reduce the swelling.” He smudges an herbal scented paste over Nathan’s cheek with a long index finger.

The pain the doctor had reminded him of disappears in seconds.

“You didn’t have to block me.” He chuckled.

Nathan could feel his face burn red. “What?”

“The app.” He put the cream away in the cupboard. “You’re the only nurse in the building with black hair and a belly. Easy to figure out.”

“Sorry. Nothing personal.” He swallows. “I don’t play where I work.”

“Fair.” He pats Nathan’s bicep. “The block was unnecessary. You’re not really my type anyway.”

Nathan wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He never had a type, but assumed short, stocky, hairy brown boy was what he meant? “Again. Sorry.”

“No worries.” He holds the door open, again. “Let’s get to work.”

Such a gentleman?

Nathan stops by his locker before heading to the clinic floor. Collects his phone and stuffs it in his scrubs pocket. The sun is just starting to turn the dark indigo sky pink, outside the windows.

The first patient of his day is an elderly woman named Arlene. She cut herself while cooking breakfast for her husband. He’d forced her to come to the clinic for stitches, though she was sure she didn't need them. Nathan has to tie two on to close the gash in her thumb.

She offers to set him up with her granddaughter. A single mother of two who manages a small Italian grocery store in the old port but is disappointed when he informs her that ladies aren’t his cup of tea.

Then she offers up her great nephew instead. He owns a flower shop on Park Street and is an absolutely lovely young man. He’s dating someone she doesn’t care for. “A sweet gentleman like you. That’s what Ben needs.” If she knew him, she might not think so.

Nathan declines again. Telling her he’s off the market at the moment, but would look her up for the connection, if his plans don’t work out. She’s happy with that, when he discharges her.

Before calling on the next patient, he decides it's time to send Jamie a message and ducks behind a curtain for a bit of privacy.

“Good morning. I’m really happy to hear from you. I wasn’t sure I would. I’m really sorry for hurting your feelings. I’d love to make it up to you if you’ll let me?” The message whooshes away.

***

Jamie’s phone chimes an alert. Rousing him from groggy efforts to fall back asleep. He’s never going to rest past sunrise apparently.

He pulls the phone into his toasty burrow. Throwing the quilt overhead. Shielding himself from the wretched cold and agitating daylight. He missed summer already. It’ll be spring again in about six months. He’ll just hold up here until then.

He reads the message from Nathan. The hours of sleep between reaching out last night and waking with a fresh perspective this morning shifted something in him. Maybe it was the seasonal depression kicking in?

Jamie decides that responding doesn’t feel like a good idea at the moment. He holds a button on the side of the device until the screen goes dark and sets it back on the nightstand.

The scent of coffee creeping under the bedroom door lets him know Andrew is up and about. He could use some wisdom from the sage roommate.

Jamie tosses the covers off his body and stiffens as the shock of chilly air assaults his bare skin. It’s time to break out the long pajamas for winter.

Dressing quickly, he rubs fleece sleeves and pant legs against his body. The friction creates enough warmth to ease the goosebumps all over and static that makes the sweats cling to his limbs.

“Morning Andrew.”

“Hey Jamie.” He’s hovering over a steamy mug, basking in the heat hitting his cheeks. “I’ve just turned the radiators on. We’ve held out long enough. It’s freezing this morning.”

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