Page 26 of Baby for Dr. Damaged

“You really don’t,” says Dr. Joyce. “But that’s what being a resident does. Kills your personal life.”

We have our normal routine; he takes my temperature, listens to me rattling off my symptoms, when they started, and that sort of thing—and then he draws blood and sends it off for a few tests to be run. I’ll have to come back in a couple of days to get the results.

That’s fine. I’ve got to meet up with Cara and Carter anyway. We’re getting together for a very, very late dinner and then catching the midnight showing of a new horror movie that’s just been dropped: The Swampland Slasher.

I’m still seven minutes late so they’ve already ordered. That’s fine. It’s just an open late pizza joint.

“You know, you need to get out more,” says Cara. It’s rare to see her out of her scrubs. She likes dark colors. Burgundy, midnight blue, forest green. Her non-work clothing always reflects that. “Like this.” She gestures at the white and red decorated dining room. The pizza is set in the middle of the table, so that all three of us can help ourselves to the cheesy, sausage and mushroom-laden meal. “Just something that’s not in Mercy General.”

Carter says, “We don’t mean the research labs either. They’re one and the same.” He’s sporting an old band tee shirt, a bright yellow stud, and way, way too much aftershave. “And talking to Dr. Hawk in the halls doesn’t count either because one, it’s still at the hospital, and two, it’s always about research. So, they’re definitely the same thing.”

I try to argue, “They’re totally different.”

“They’re exactly the same. Do you see me spending every free minute there?” Cara asks.

She’s on the team with us. A volunteer for it. When I asked her why, she said it was because she wanted to help.

I shrug. “I do things that aren’t at the hospital.”

Cara challenges, “Like what?”

“I went to a piano recital the other day,” I say. Technically, it’s not a lie. They don’t need to know that Bonnie is the one who had been playing the music, and that it had just been at Jackson’s house in between two shifts. “I just don’t always advertise what I’m doing.”

Carter takes another slice of pizza. The thick strands of mozzarella cheese slide from it and back onto the tray. The crust is so caked in garlic chunks and butter, it practically glistens in the yellow light above. “Okay, but tonight doesn’t count.”

“Tonight totally counts. Dinner and a movie?” I say, brows raising.

Cara tells me, “It’s not a date, Amanda. We’re saying that you need to go and get a little. Have some fun on the side. See someone.”

Carter says, “She’s saying that. I was just saying that tonight doesn’t count because we work at the hospital too. I go bowling on Sundays. That counts.”

“You bowl?” I ask, frowning. For some reason, I can’t picture Carter bowling. He looks like he spends his free time in a game room somewhere, or eBay browsing or— I don’t know. Something that’s not bowling.

Cara clucks her tongue. “We’re not talking about Carter’s questionable taste in sports right now.”

I wave a hand at her. “No, no, I want to hear more about this. Do you seriously bowl every Sunday?”

Carter nods. “I’m on a league.”

“A bowling league? Oh my God, I thought that was just a thing in movies,” I tell him, laughing.

It’s not meant to be mean, and Carter doesn’t take it that way. Instead, he uses the conversation as a means of launching into a detailed discussion of his league—how the twins on another team are notorious cheaters, how it’s a lot more vigorous and in-depth than people like to act, how he’ll take me some time if I want… We don’t finish the conversation until we’re already sliding into our seats at the theater.

The movie is captivating, and it’s an even better reason to not discuss my dating life with Cara.

I don’t mind that people know I’m seeing Jackson, but… It’s not something that either of us has discussed. In fact, despite spending the better part of our time with each other, neither of us has even officially said that we’re dating! So, it’s just not something that I want to talk about right now. I wouldn’t even know what to say.

Thankfully, the movie is good enough that even when it lets out, we spend the next twenty minutes discussing the twist at the end, and the incredibly romantic relationship between the two main stars of the film, Carly and Donnie.

By the time we split ways, Cara has totally forgotten that she’d been pushing into my private life.

And by the next evening, I’m back in Dr. Joyce’s office, waiting for him to show up and give me the results.

He comes into the room, looking a little more nervous than I would like. “How are you feeling today, Amanda?”

I wince. “We both know that means you found something. Come on, Barry, I’m in the same field as you. You don’t need to dance around things. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing bad,” says Dr. Joyce. “Not really! It’s arguably—possibly a good thing!”

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