Page 5 of Doctor One Night

He laughs a little before he sighs, “We can’t fix it all, man, you know that. But seriously, are you that riled up about this? This isn’t even your focus.”

Neither of us speaks as we hear the door to the supply closet unlock and then open. The light, padding footsteps that sneak out first likely belong to Ellen Sanchez, one of the newer, hot nurses. Her soft yet solid cadence in her clogs is unmistakable.

The next set of footsteps that comes out is a bit heavier and a little more cocky. Perhaps getting laid built up his confidence somewhat.

“Oh! I, ah, I didn’t…” I recognize his distinct voice immediately: Teddy, the tall, lanky resident. He bursts into the staff room, expecting it to be empty, I’m sure.

“Just zip it up and move on, McFly,” I say without turning around to face him. “I’m sure you’ve got rounds to do or something else you’ve been avoiding.”

“Step to it, newbie,” Jonah adds, “Make sure your dingle isn’t dangling.”

I roll my eyes behind closed lids, picturing the kid behind us checking his fly only to realize that he’s wearing scrubs and doesn’t have a zipper.

I’ll admit it. Giving the residents shit is sometimes a nice change to the regular pace we set around here. It’s like a sadistic form of entertainment for us and a rite of passage for them.

Jonah flips the page he was reading back up as we hear the footsteps trailing off toward the hallway. I know in a few moments, he’ll ask me again why this report has me so fired up.

“Is Grace still out at the desk?”

“Yep,” Jonah replies, smirking as he chomps on his gum. I hate it when people smack on chewing gum. “Big Mama’s been looking for you, too. She wants you to try the caramel muffins she brought in.”

“Big Mama” is an affectionate term we use for one of our oldest and most well-liked ER nurses, Grace Petit. She’s a tough old woman who looks twenty years younger than her actual age, which is probably in her late sixties.

She isn’t big at all. In fact, she is only five feet tall with her thick-soled shoes on and probably weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet.

Big Mama is not to be confused with Mama Bear, who is Maijka, our other mother-figure nurse, and the person who takes care of us all. We are a lucky bunch to have these two mom figures around to keep us straight and well-fed.

Grace recently had a medical complication, so we are all being extra protective of her. She has always been there for of us, so we are trying to do the same for her. We have to do it quietly, though, because she doesn’t want anyone to fuss over her. Ever.

She likes Jonah the best. I’m sure it’s because he showed up at UAB first. His calm and peaceful nature doesn’t hurt. He’s just one of those likable guy.

For years, she’s been like a surrogate mother to him. That’s cool, I guess, since his own mother was a piece of work from what little I’ve heard of her over the years. Come to think of it, I think mothering Jonah that is how she got the nickname “Big Mama.”

“Caramel muffins, huh?”

“Oh yeah, sweet, sticky, and guaranteed to clog an artery or add a few pounds.”

“Keeps us in business.”

Surgeon jokes. They might be worse than dad jokes. But seriously, those fucking muffins are the epitome of food sin.

10:49 pm

“I'm out of here, man. You're charming and all, but my bed is calling.”

“Get some rest. I'm here for the night on call, so you know where to find me if you need me.”

I act like I'm going to blow him a kiss but instead throw up a middle finger. We have a sophomoric sense of humor together, which is a nice break from the all-business approach I apply to life for the most part. Everyone needs a friend like Jonah to lighten the mood.

Pushing through the door into the hallway, my pace quickens as I make my way toward the parking garage. I round the corner, half-focused on my cases tomorrow, and suddenly, I slam right into someone. Papers go flying, scattering across the floor. Instinctively, I reach out to steady whoever I just ran into.

“Frankie?” The name slips out before I can stop it, and there she is, standing in front of me, her eyes wide with surprise. “Dr. Renna. I didn't see you coming.”

Why the fuck did I call her Frankie? Fuck. Fuck.

“Dr. Parrish,” she says, her voice calm, even though she’s kneeling down to gather her papers, clearly as caught off guard by our collision as I am.

She doesn’t seem pissed, but then again, Frankie always seems as cool as a cucumber. She’s got this easygoing nature, like nothing rattles her. Fuck if it doesn’t throw me off.

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