Page 46 of Forever to Fall
Janis winked. “Sure thing, hun. That’d be nice.” Mallory was three paces away when she added, “Unless you’re busy with Mr. Fox.”
Busted.Mallory stifled a giggle and ran to her first patient of the day.
Her first patient was an elderly man with a nasty cut on his arm from a “complicated fight with a lawnmower.” It took her and another nurse nearly an hour to stitch him up and stop the bleeding. Next it was a little girl who had shoved twelve peas up her tiny nose. Her mother was scolding her in between tears, but the girl only shrugged. “I was trying to beat my record. Last week it was only ten.” She held up her chubby hands to count her progress. Before her lunch break, she helped with a horrible automobile crash that looked like a scene from an episode ofER.
By the time Beckett’s appointment rolled around, Mallory felt her makeup deserved an industry award for staying power. Although her braid required a few extra pins, she was externally as ready as she would be. The exam room door was closed with a red tag hanging from the handle. It was the hospital’s way of alerting staff that a patient was inside. After taking another long breath, she knocked on the door and stepped inside.
Beckett was seated on the exam table, his long legs dangling from the edge. Much like herself, he’d put a little work into his appearance. His red hair was slicked back, his glasses were clear of smudges, and he wore an Oxford shirt that looked like it had seen an iron in the last week.
At first, neither of them spoke, the only sound in the room that of the door snicking shut behind her. Mallory held her clipboard to her chest like a shield. “Hi,” she said simply, unable to think of any other words in the English language.
Beckett raised a hand in greeting. “Hey.”
“Hi,” she repeated, feeling like a first-class moron. These two shared decades of history, and all she could muster were repeated one-word greetings.This is going really well...
“I’m glad it’s you,” Beckett hurriedly added. “I mean, I wasn’t sure if you would want to see me. I contemplated fixing the shutters again, but I thought with my luck I’d fall to my death.” He snorted and rolled his eyes, shoving his glasses up his nose. Even with the distance between them, she could see a thumbprint from where she stood. She felt better knowing he was this nervous. It was a good sign, right?
“I don’t want you falling to your death,” she added, shaking her head. “Obviously.”
“That’s good.” Beckett nodded, wiggling around on the exam table, the sound of crinkling paper echoing in the tiny room. “How are you?”
“Pfft, I should be asking you that question. Any swelling, discoloration, pain, or joint issues?” This was safe, medical questions were safe territory.
Beckett frowned. “Mal...”
“Because we should be mindful of any signs of infection or permanent damage to your hand.”
“I don’t care about my hand,” he said, color rising in his cheeks. “I didn’t come here for my hand.” He held it up for her to see, the bandage gone and a small Band-aid in its place. He flexed his fingers to prove his point. “I came here to see you. I’m not kidding. If you weren’t here, I would have borrowed one of the crayons from a kid in the lobby and shoved it up my nose.” He chuckled at his own joke and Mallory wondered if the little girl with the peas had moved on to bigger challenges.
“Beckett.” Simply saying his name brought her pulse skyrocketing. Despite everything that happened last weekend, she missed him deeply. Since having him back in her life, every day without him felt hollow and boring, like a mozzarella stick without the cheese.
“I want to talk about the engagement party.”
His words drew her back a step, bringing her crashing down to earth. “You want to talk about Evan and CeCe’s wedding?”
Beckett held up both his hands. “No! Crap, this is not coming out right at all.”
Before he could continue, Dr. Shuptar came in. A man in his late forties, he was no-nonsense but also kindhearted. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Fox. Let’s look at your hand. I appreciate you coming in. Since you don’t have your primary care physician set up, we like to have a professional stay on top of wound care.” Glancing up from this tablet, he caught the expression between Mallory and Beckett. “Is everything okay?”
Dr. Shuptar had helped another nurse the month before with a very grabby patient who misunderstood the request of “I need you to take your top off” as an invitation to take off all his clothes. He’d handled the situation beautifully, managing not to humiliate the nurse but also keep everyone safe.
Fearing that was where his mind was going now, Mallory blurted out, “Beckett is not a pervert.”
Both men looked at her like she’d sprouted another head, and frankly, she wished she had. Perhaps a second brain would help her out of her current conundrum. “Huh?” Beckett asked, his cheeks flashing his trademark red. If the situation didn’t improve soon, he’d probably be admitted for a flushing problem. He was as red as a tomato.
Dr. Shuptar’s lip quirked and he shook his head. “Noted. I’ll update Mr. Fox’s file.”
Beckett scratched the back of his neck. “Am I missing something?”
Mallory wheeled over a stand with examination tools and turned up the lights. “Just erm, standard hospital documentation.” Now it was her turn to change colors, her face flashing an unflattering shade of violet. Maybe she’d get lucky and the ground would open up and swallow her whole.
Five minutes later, Dr. Shuptar confirmed that Beckett’s hand had, in fact, healed nicely. His ankle was also on the upswing, barely swollen under his socks. He was given basic care instructions and discharged. “Come back and see us if you run into any other issues, and I recommend hiring professionals for those home improvement projects.” The doctor smirked and left them alone again.
As soon as the door was closed, Beckett jumped off the exam table and strode toward Mallory. “Beckett’s not a pervert? I guess I’m relieved to hear that.”
Mallory peeled off her rubber gloves and tossed them in the trash. “I thought it was worth noting.”
“Was it a real concern?”
