Page 30 of Elanie & the Empath
“You helped that bionic, right?” she asked, another shocker. “The one who tried to walk off the ship?”
“You heard about that?”
“Chan told us about him at staff meeting this morning.” A nearly imperceptible divot sank between her brows. “Is he okay?”
“I’m sorry, Elanie. I can’t talk about the status of another patient.” Because if I didn’t have my oaths, what did I have? Just instaWave dinners and an inappropriate crush.
“I understand.” She broke eye contact with me, her gaze dropping to her shoes. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Wait, Elanie,” I said when she tried to turn away,cocking my arm back for a Hail Mary pass. “If you ever need me for anything else. Anything medical, or…just to talk. I’ll be here.”
“Thank you,” she said. Then she reached into my chest to grasp my heart and squeeze when she called me “Sem.”
As I leftmy office for the night, tired of wallowing over the fact that I wouldn’t see Elanie again, wouldn’t sing karaoke to her, wouldn’t draw her diagrams or loan her mirrors or feel like I lassoed a moon when I made her smile, I decided I needed a drink.
The bar nearest the med bay was a Ulaperian hang that had decent burgers and a great beer selection. And, surprisingly, it also had Freddie sitting on one of the stools, waving me over.
I waved back, relieved to see him. As often as I dreamed of being somewhere else, and as much as I felt like I’d let everyone in my life down by ending up here, there were good things about living on this ship. No matter how weighed down I felt after a long day of caring for guests, there was always someone waiting around the corner or on the next barstool, ready to lift me up.
“Hi, Freddie,” I said, taking the stool beside him. “How’s things?”
“I don’t mean to be rude.” Freddie grimaced. “But you look like hell.”
Ordering an IPA through my VC, I said, “Just a rough day.”
“I’ve seen you on rough days. This seems like something else. Need to talk?”
I huffed a laugh. “You should try your hand at empathy, Freddie. You’ve got a real knack for it.”
With a wry twist to his lips, he said, “Haven’t you heard you should never challenge a Venusian?” He cracked his knuckles. “Okay, let me see. This wouldn’t have something to do with a certain bionic we both know, would it?”
Shit. Was it that obvious?
I crossed my arms on the bar so I could thump my forehead onto them.
Freddie chuckled while his kindness and good humor warmed the air around me. “She does make an impression.”
“I can’t talk about her,” I said into my forearms. “She’s my patient. Well, shewasmy patient. She fired me today.”
“Because she broke up with Blake?”
Turning my head, I arched a brow. “Seriously, Freddie. Do you have Portisans in your family? Some distant empath uncle somewhere?”
“There were rumors that my great-grandfather wasadventurous, if you catch my meaning.”
I laughed weakly.
“No, I’m not an empath,” he said. “It just makes sense. She went to you to figure out how to deal with him. And now that they’re no longer together?—”
“She doesn’t need me anymore.” I sighed, nodding my thanks to the serving drone when they dropped off my beer. “How’s Sunny feeling?”
Tilting his glass my way, he said, “You’re changing the subject. But she’s doing well.”
“Has the morning sickness subsided?”
“Not yet.” He took a sip of his whiskey, his vibe growing heavy. “It’s not just the morning sickness that’s bothering her. It’s the way being pregnant again reminds her of herson. Of Jonathan. It’s been difficult for her to feel happy when a large part of her still feels so sad.”
I sensed it in them both since their first visit, when I detected that Sunny’s nausea wasn’t because of a bug, but a baby. Once the initial shock of an unexpected pregnancy wore off, they were bright, vibrating with joy. But there was a gray tug of grief in the mix too.
