Page 15 of Devoted

“Jess! You nailed that one, honey!” Alice commends her from across the table.

“Thanks. My mom always had Pat Benatar playing at home while we cleaned, so I knew I could belt that one out.” She winks and then takes a sip of her vodka and cranberry, her eyes falling down to the table as her face falls flat for just a brief moment before she’s smiling again. The movement was so subtle most everyone probably didn’t think twice about it. But I saw it, and it spiked my curiosity a bit more.

“Hey… where’d you go just now?”

Her eyes pop up to meet mine with a paranoid gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know,” I stumble, studying the change in her demeanor for a moment. “You just seemed like you got sad all of a sudden.”

Her lips thin out in a tight-lipped smile that feels more forced than natural. “Nope. I’m fine. I love to sing.”

“Well, I was definitely impressed.” The admiration I offer helps her soften and draws her attention, which helps me keep this momentum of celebration going instead of wondering why she seemed down right after her performance.

“Thank you.”

“So apparently you have other skills not related to nursing?”

She grins and then turns on her stool so we’re facing each other head on. “I do have a life outside of the hospital, you know?”

There’s that sass again. I haven’t seen it since Skye’s, which makes me think maybe she’s all business when we’re at work. And now I want her to play with me a bit. “Is that right? Please enlighten me with your other skills then.”

She narrows her eyes at me suspiciously. “Is that supposed to be dirty?”

“Not unless you want it to be.”

Her jaw falls open and that blush I’ve grown to love on her cheeks grows exponentially. “Dr. Bennet! I don’t know that that’s appropriate to say to your colleague.”

I chuckle and then take a sip of my beer. “Please call me Brooks when we’re not at work. And I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I was just trying to be playful.”

“I figured.”

“So, please continue. What other hidden talents do you have besides an incredible singing voice?”

Jess blushes again at my compliment and then looks to the ceiling while she thinks. “Well, I’m extremely organized—like, if I wasn’t a nurse, I could probably pimp out my organizational skills.” She chuckles and I do the same. “And I can devour an entire family-size bag of potato chips in one sitting.”

“That is rather impressive,” I chide as she giggles, the alcohol clearly taking effect.

Jess’s face turns serious rather quickly before she changes the topic on me. “Hey, I meant to ask you the other day… what happened to that twelve-year-old girl that came in from that car accident?”

I bow my head, focusing on my drink while trying to maintain my composure. “She—she’s in a coma.” The image of her parent’s faces all battered and bruised from the impact still flash through my mind randomly, especially when I told them there was a possibility she wasn’t waking up.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry to hear that.” Jess’s hand closes over mine and the warmth of her touch ebbs the lack of control I feel right now.

“It’s been hard not to think about if I’m being honest. Cases with kids are always the hardest for me to handle. One of the parts of the job that sucks, right?”

“Definitely. Some days I question whether this was the right choice, but I try to remember the successful cases tend to outnumber the hard ones.” She speaks the words I couldn’t have said better myself, her positivity tugging at the corner of my mouth, forcing me to crack a lopsided smile again.

“Yeah. That’s true.” I continue to stare at her while we both absorb the turn our conversation just took.

“Sorry. I guess I put a damper on the energy just now, didn’t I?” She laughs nervously, but I can tell that she’s still feeling the same emotions I am.

Working in life or death situations all day can jade your perceptions of the world if you let it, pulling you under a black cloud of doubt and negativity. I learned early on from a mentor how necessary it is to mentally separate your job from the rest of your life, lest you end up in a permanent state of depression, or ultimately want to quit. Acceptance is the key, and the hardest part of working with people every day.

You won’t save every person. The outcome of every case will not be the best-case scenario. But you do your best each day and hope that the good outweighs the bad.

And as I stare at Jess while her eyes survey the room, I realize she’s one of the few women I’ve ever met that I feel understands that. She gets that pressure. She somehow knows the words to say to alleviate the torture I feel when a patient won’t make it. And I’ve never felt that before from a woman, let alone a woman I work with.

“No. I appreciate that you were concerned. But, I think we should just focus on the point of this evening now—and that was to have fun outside of the hospital, right?”

Her smile stretches across her lips, pulling my attention to them momentarily, before I focus back on her eyes. “I agree.”

Suddenly, she’s pulled back into the conversation by one of the other nurses, allowing me to sit back and observe some more, listening and conversing with these women who I’ve come to respect and wholeheartedly enjoy working with.

But there’s so much more to learn about Jess and all I know is that I want to know it all, even if that means derailing from my plans I developed upon returning home to Emerson Falls. Lord knows Jess wasn’t part of that plan—but as she laughs, jokes, and relaxes around her friends, granting me a small glimpse of who she is besides a nurse—I get the feeling she might just be the most welcome detour I could have asked for.

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