Page 22 of Still The One

‘For me?!’ Teri exclaims with surprise.

‘Kiss ass,’ Dale says through a cough from his desk behind us, and with a sly move, I throw a single finger his way behind my back, hearing him scoff, and feeling pleased with myself.

‘It’s just a token of my appreciation for allowing me time off on short notice.’

Teri nods, but her eyes are on the basket of treats. ‘It’s not every day your most dedicated employee asks for time off.’

Just about everyone sitting in the nurses’ station lets out a groan. Great. Now they all hate me for being titled ‘most dedicated’.

‘Thanks, Eve,’ Genevieve says sarcastically, sipping from her coffee mug.

I roll my eyes and turn back to Teri. ‘There may not be ocean or giant flamingo-shaped floaties in my future but perhaps when this nightmare is over, I’ll make a weekend trip to the coast before I come back.’

Teri nods in approval, then digs into the basket, pulling out her favorite brand of chocolate bars. ‘As long as you return ready to work, which I have no doubt you will.’

‘Absolutely,’ I reply, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. The tension eases as I see Teri enjoying the snacks, and I know my job is safe.

‘I’ll walk you out,’ Gen says. ‘Goin’ on break, Dale!’

She steers me out of the ER through a side door only employees use to get some fresh air. ‘You sure you’re OK with this dinner?’ she asks, concern evident in her voice.

I nod, adjusting the strap of the bag on my shoulder. It’s packed full of things I thought Foster might enjoy in his state. Extreme sports magazines. My iPad so he can watch whatever he wants. Cards, in case he wants to practice his skills. And a couple of books that are not about celebrities.

‘Yeah, it’s just dinner,’ I say. ‘Plus, Matty will be there.’

‘Ah,’ she says with a sly smile. ‘Invited a third wheel to make it less weird. Smart.’

‘It just worked out that way.’

‘Well, when shit hits the fan, you know where to find me. I’ll bring the floaties and margaritas and we’ll bob around that hospital pool you so love and cry it out.’

I laugh, but truthfully, that might be as much of a vacation as I get this year – or any year since I’ve worked here. Me, Gen, and probably my favorite over-sixty-five folks, all getting lit on hospital facilities while floating in the Olympic-size pool on water floats shaped like summery shapes – it’s not exactly my dream vacay.

‘Here’s to a dinner of all the best hospital cuisines. Wish me luck,’ I say, backing away from Genevieve so I’m not late.

‘Don’t eat the fries!’ she reminds me. Our hospital can’t seem to work a fryer for the life of them. They’re either so crispy they taste like rocks or so mushy they’d stand in as mashed potatoes. I let Foster order for me, so we’ll see how well he still knows me.

‘Knock, knock?’ I call, lightly tapping on Foster’s ICU door as I slide it open, peeking in.

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks genuinely happy to see me.

‘Evie,’ he says with relief in his voice. ‘I’d have dressed up, but this is all I’ve got.’ He glances down at the hospital-issue blue scrub pants he’s now wearing. Otherwise, he’s still shirtless and it’s showing off his hard shoulder (singular, since I can only see one) in a way that’s bringing back memories I’d rather not relive.

I glance down at my outfit: black skinny jeans, a white ribbed button-down tank, a wheat-colored bomber-style sweater, and white Birkenstocks. The top part of my hair is braided and pinned behind one ear, just to keep it out of my face, and I didn’t exactly throw on a face full of make-up. Instead, I went for my ‘easy’ routine: quick foundation, under-eye brightener, a dab of blush, mascara, and nude lipstick.

He’s sitting up in his bed, still attached to wires, IVs, and a nasal cannula of air to help his oxygen levels. Machines beep regularly next to him. His dark hair is tousled and he looks comfortably glazed over on pain meds so I’m not sure how much of any conversation he’ll retain. But besides all that, he looksgood. Almost exactly like the Foster that easily wooed my heart in our past.

‘Wow!’ he says, his eyes on me. He blinks a few times, looking me over like it’s been a while. Which it has. ‘I sort of wondered if you were just one of the many dreams I was having. But I’m glad you’re not. Also, you never change, Jellybean,’ he says in a soft voice, still shaky from the intubation ordeal. ‘Actually, you do, I’m pretty sure you’re even more gorgeous than I remember.’

Heat rushes to my cheeks and I’m sure it’s visible. He’s been awake one day and already he’s got me blushing. I want to tell him I’m not any more gorgeous than I was, but come on, what girl doesn’t want to hear that from a man?

‘I go by Eve now,’ I joke at the sweet but a tad too much nickname he gave me a long time ago. ‘But thank you. You look… a lot better than I expected.’

He laughs, coughing when he does so. ‘I feel 50 per cent alive.’

‘That’s something,’ I encourage, glancing around the small room. ‘So, where’s Matty?’

‘He’s on his way. Refused to eat hospital food so he’s stopping by the In-N-Out for the good stuff.’

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