Page 22 of Stat: Love In Scrubs
“We were supposed to get lunch today or Brunch. Whatever you want to call it, he asked me. I got dressed and everything, only for him to call me and say he has to go to work on an emergency. He could have?—”
“He could have what, Yara? Please tell me, how that man can tell you the future?” She said, interrupting me.
“He could have at least mentioned he was on call, so I knew that anything could pop up. But, no, he didn’t. All he did was apologize and send flowers with food.”
Darby’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened before she smiled.
“I knew you were leaving something out. So you mean to tell me, he sent you food anyway, even though he couldn’t take you, and he sent you flowers. What man has ever done that for you? You’re not in a relationship, and he is being considerate of your feelings. Yeah, get out of your own way, sis. I don’t want to hear any more nonsense?—”
“But—”
“Nope, not while Sticks is professing his love. Suck it up, buttercup, and prepare to become a doctor’s wife.” She said.
Then, I turned back towards the TV to finish enjoying the movie. Darby hit the nail on the head; control was a sore spot for me. I heard her loud and clear, but stepping out of my own way was easier said than done.
Iglanced down at my phone once more, and Yara still hadn’t responded to my text. I knew I had fucked up yesterday when I invited her out only to cancel. For the first time in a long time, I forgot how much my career messed with dating. Veronica understood, but she also knew what she had signed on for.
“Boy, if you don’t get off your ass and go show that woman you mean business.” My father said behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder to see him leaning against the doorframe of the living room. I had stopped by to discuss my schedule for the week with them. But I knew damn well I hadn’t mentioned anything was going on between Yara and me.
“How you know I’m not checking the stats for a game or something?” I asked.
He smirked and stood upright from his position against the wall. Then strolled over to the chair across from me, taking a seat.
“I was a young man before. We may not have had cellphones and shit, but we had a damn phone. Yo’ mama used to keep me on my toes, and by the way, you’re acting about this woman. I can imagine she is doing the same to you.”
I glanced back down at my phone.
“We’ve only been on one date. I wouldn’t classify that as enough time to have me on my toes. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. We had to make an ER run the night I took her out.”
I knew the excuse I gave sounded like bullshit because it was. I was beyond gone off a woman who was ignoring the hell out of me. I knew I messed up inviting her out, only to have to cancel. But I couldn’t control when emergencies would arise with my patients.
My dad’s deep chuckle caused me to look up from my phone.
“I don’t know who you trying to convince, but it can’t be me. You must be working on your damn self, all while waiting on a text back. You might as well skip the bullshit, son, and tell me what you did.”
I looked up at him again, and this time my face was turned up.
“How you figure I did something?” I asked.
“You asking a lot of dumb ass questions to be a doctor, son. But I’m going to let it slide for today. If you hadn’t done anything, you wouldn’t be waiting by your phone; you would be typing or pulling up on that woman. Yet here you are in my house, with your face practically glued to your hands. Now, what did you do?”
I released an exasperated breath, then stuffed my phone into my pocket.
“The next day after the date, I invited her to go to brunch. Kind of like a date re-do kind of thing. Pretty much our entirefirst date was spent in the damn ER around people who I see every day, anyway.” I paused.
Then continued. “On my way to pick her up, I got a call from the hospital about an emergency taking place with one of my patients. They needed me because I was the only one familiar with her case. Not to mention, my patient wasn’t allowing any of them to do a damn thing unless I was there. I called and cancelled with Yara, then made my way to the hospital.”
My father was shaking his head long before I finished the story.
“What? I ordered her food and flowers to be delivered in my place.” I offered.
My father leaned forward and looked at me as if I had lost my mind.
“Sometimes, I feel like we dropped you on your head too many times. Then, on the other hand, I figure we couldn’t have done too badly since you’re an upstanding man, father, and doctor. But moments like this make me question my damn self.” He said, then chuckled.
“Pops, man, be serious. What did I do wrong?” I asked.
