Page 40 of Whiskey Lullaby
The waiting room doors to the hospital slid open, the cool, medicinal scented air from inside hitting me when I walkedin.
Out of the ten patient rooms, only one door was closed. The ER was eerily slow that day, which gave me little to do but think. Daddy had mentioned that morning that we needed to look into burial arrangements, so when the time came, it wasn’t so much on us. I snapped and accused him of giving up. So, I sat there for half my shift trying to ignore the guilt, trying to convince myself there was no need to make arrangements. My mind was on a crash course with disaster when Dr. Roberts handed me the paperwork he’d just signed off on. “How’s your mother?” heasked.
“Good.” I tore the pink copy off, slipping it into the patient file. “She’sgood.”
“You know, they have a clinical trial up at University Hospital I’ve heard promising things about. You should see about enrolling her inone.”
I forced a weak smile. “I’ve messaged the project coordinator.”Maybe he was right? We’re looking into clinical trials. Studies… we’re that desperate that we’re going down the path of theunknown.
He placed his hand on my shoulder. “You’ll get through this. You’re strong.” And then he disappeared into one of the patientrooms.
Meg slipped up behind me. “Dr. Roberts’ touchy-feely much?” shelaughed.
“He’sfine.”
“So, spill.” Meg propped her hip against the counter. “What happened last night?” She eyed me up and down with a slight smirk on her pink lips, and I welcomed thedistraction.
“Nothing.”
“Uh-huh.” She rounded the counter and flopped down in one of the rolling chairs, pushing it across the floor like a seven-year-old. “I’m your best friend. Don’t lie to me.” She rolled backpast.
“I’m not. Nothinghappened.”
She caught herself on an IV pole and spun the chair around. “Not even akiss?”
“No, not even akiss.”
“Ohhh…” she shook a finger at me. “He’s good. Very good. Gotta hand it tohim.”
“What are you talkingabout?”
“The no kiss thing is a mark of the ultimate player. He’s already figured youout.”
“Uh-huh.” I leaned over the keyboard, pulled Ms. Smith’s name up on the screen, and hitprint.
“He knows he has to take it slow. Throw some pretty lines at you… make you feelspecial.”
I grabbed the labels from theprinter.
“Don’t roll your eyes atme!”
“You’re ridiculous,” I said on my way to grab test tubes from the supply closet.But what if she’s not? What if he is just as badandas good as she says? Oh my God, what does it even matter?It mattered because I wanted to matter tohim.
When I stepped out of the supply closet, her glitter-peach nails were furiously tapping away at her phone. Her cheeks pink. Groaning, she tossed the phone onto the counter. “Why am I so hung up on adick?”
“When have you not been hung up on a dick?” I peeled one of the labels off and wrapped it around thetube.
“No, I don’t mean physically hung up on a penis, I mean hung up onTrevor.”
I arched a brow and grabbed a lancet from the cabinet. “So, you admitit?”
“Yeah, yeah. There’s just something about a guy you can’t have. Iswear.”
Or a guy you’re told you shouldn’t have…“Yeah,” I sighed, shoving open the door to Ms. Smith’s room. “I guess thereis.”
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It was nearly midnight by the time I stepped into the silent house. The soft, blue glow of the TV crept from underneath Bo’s door, casting strange shadows on the wall as I tiptoed up to the secondfloor.
