Page 51 of Let Leaves Lay Where They Fall

“It’s okay. I was just scolding Jamie for never inviting me over.”

“Hey. I’ve only been to your place twice.” Jamie retorts.

“That's your fault. I’ve invited you plenty.” She looks to Kurt. “He acts like an eighty-year-old. Running straight home after work and never going out with us.”

“My club days are over.” He laughs.

“Nice to meet you both.” Kurt has a French-Canadian accent.

“Oh. Hey daddy.” Molly jokes.

“Down girl.” Jamie giggles. “Wrong tree.”

“It usually is.” She looks Kurt up and down.

“Aren’t you in a throuple?’’ Jamie teases.

“Two actually. I’m working on building a poly pod.”

They all laugh.

“What are you two doing for lunch? Kurt and I are going to order something.”

“Molly is taking me over to the clinic for my checkup.” Jamie scratches his chin. “No idea when we’ll be back.”

Andrew’s eyes catch the flowers. “Did you bring flowers?” He looks at Molly.

“Nooo…” she shakes her head. “Those got here before I did.” She makes googly eyes at Jamie. “They’re from the nurse.” She winks at Andrew.

Andrew’s head darts in Jamie’s direction. “Oh?” His eyes light up.

“Yes. He’s buttering me up.” Jamie blushes. Checking Kurt’s expression. Relieved that he seems clueless.

“They’ve got a date next week.” Molly pats Jamie’s shoulder.

She and Andrew exchange wistful grins.

“That’s quite a turn of events.” He meets Jamie’s eyes.

“Alright. We should get going.” Jamie shifts focus. “It was nice meeting you Kurt.” He nudges Molly toward the door.

“You too. Good luck at the Clinique.” His accent is charming. He has friendly brown eyes. A tidy white beard that climbs up a square jaw into a nest of silver and white waves, combed back and gelled in place. Massive muscular arms underneath a contour hugging cranberry sweater. Andrew has a type, and Kurt fits the bill to a tee. They’re a picturesque couple.

***

“Nathan?” Dr Carter pokes his head into the staff lounge. “Bed number seven. When you get back. Needs a gash on their leg cleaned and stitched up.”

“Okay. I’ll be back on the floor in five.” He pops another pinch of vending machine peanuts into his mouth and washes them down with a swig of cola.

The sunshiny supermodel ducks away as quickly as he’d appeared.

Nathan pulls the patient’s info up on the tablet laid on the table. Rosemary fell down her front stoop and cut her chin open. Poor thing is eighty-seven. The same age Bertie would be if she were still around. He dumps the last peanuts into his mouth and chews them with a cola chaser. Tucking his phone in his scrubs pocket and his bag back in the locker. He makes way to the clinic gallery.

Rosemary is a tiny frail woman with Snow White hair swept up into a bun. Her big toothy smile greets Nathan as he enters her cubicle.

“Hi Rosemary. I’m Nathan. I hear you’ve taken a bit of a tumble this morning?”

“Yes dear.” Her eyes squint and bulbous knuckled bony fingers stretch down to point at the deep cut on her leg. “I tripped, trying to avoid stepping on a sweet little stray kitty that likes to visit outside my building. It’s just two concrete steps, but this old body isn’t what it used to be.” She giggles at herself. “I had the cab driver bring me right over. Instead of going to the market. He gave me a pile of napkins to try and stop the bleeding, but I was a nurse once upon a time. So I know I need a few stitches.” She clasps frail hands together over her belly with a glow of pride glow for sharing her credentials.

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