Page 26 of The Doctor's Simple Life

I’m too rusty on that kind of surgery to be necessary.

Even though I’m exhausted, I don’t think I can sleep. My nerves are shaking like out-of-tune guitar strings. I almost want to shiver, even though I’m not cold. It’s a nice morning, actually. It’s warm without being oppressive, and now that the sun is peeking up over the horizon, it’s shining a golden layer over everything.

It makes things feel just a little better.

“Let’s get breakfast,” says Sienna, and that’s how I know she’s tired. Usually, she makes some sort of comment about how much she really doesn’t want to be seen with me when she suggests stuff like this. But right now, she just smiles.

“Breakfast?” I say, frowning. “Is anything even open around here this early?”

“Yes,” she pouts. So clearly she’s not too tired to be completely nice to me. “We’re going to go to the breakfast diner, and you’ll see the best pancakes you’ve ever seen in your life.”

I hum dubiously. “Okay.”

We get a cab to the diner, and I have to keep my mouth clamped shut when we step into the place to stop it from dropping wide open in horror. It’s hard to tell exactly how old this building is, but it’s got a distinctly fifties vibe, and it’s falling apart more than a little. The lettering on the sign is faded and cracked, and the parking lot looks like it’s never been repainted.

The glass in the door is boarded up, and I wonder how long it’s been since it broke. Sienna grins wide at the server who takes us to our seats, but all I can think about is the peeling red leather, the dimple from a hundred behinds, a table that has that kind of pattern that stops you seeing all the dirt on it. Plus, the floor tiles clearly come from the seventies and haven’t been replaced since.

“Please tell me they do good coffee in here,” I say because that’s about the only thing that can cheer me up.

But Sienna isn’t listening. She’s too busy waving at the waitress and smiling at the other patrons. Yet again, we’ve come to a place where she knows everyone and I don’t know anyone.

Somehow, whenever I spend time with her, I end up feeling so helpless, so out of my depth in a way that’s so unfamiliar to me that it scares me. I’m not used to being the nobody. It doesn’t suit me.

The waitress hurries over to us. “Bad night?” she asks Sienna, ignoring me.

“There was a big accident. We were backed up all night, run off our feet trying to help.”

“Nothing too bad, I hope,” says the waitress, pouring us both a coffee. I stir creamer into mine without a word.

Sienna shrugs. “Pretty bad car pileup. No fatalities, but we could both do with a stack of the best pancakes you’ve got.”

“Coming right up, hon. And can I get you anything else, sir? We do the early bird special for medical professions. And for Sienna’s friend, after a hard night, you both get coffee on the house from us.”

“Thank you,” I say, startled at finally being acknowledged. “That’s very kind.”

“You guys do such an important job,” she says, batting her eyelids at me. She’s pretty, but I’m too tired and freaked out imagining the health and safety standards in the kitchen to react. “This is the least we can do.”

As soon as she’s gone, I lean over the table to Siena and say, “Are you sure this place is as good as you say it is?”

She shoots me a harsh look. “The guys in here all know everyone from the hospital really well. This is the go-to place for hospital staff after rough nights or long days. It’s the restaurant in town open twenty-four hours a day, and they’re just as vital to the community as we are. So we’re damn well going to tip them good, and you’re going to say thank you for everything you get.”

“Hey now,” I say, pouting. “I might be an ass, but I’m not rude.”

She shrugs. “At least you’re self-aware.”

I open my mouth and close it again.

She shut me down so concisely that I can’t even think of a good way to start an argument back up with her.

Instead, I drink my coffee, and almost to my disappointment, it’s really, really good. “You’re sure this is free refills?”

“Louisa was being nice to make you feel good. All hospital staff get free coffee in here, including the janitors. It’s their whole thing.”

What feels like just seconds later, the pancakes arrive. Despite the lightning speed, the huge stack of golden, fluffy circles looks so, so good, and I feel my stomach rumble at the sight of them.

Sienna bites her lip in an attempt not to giggle, but I’m tired and hungry and in no mood to pretend to be mad when she laughs at me.

Screw it, I think, and pour a waterfall of syrup over the stack before taking a bite.

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