Page 13 of Not Like Christmas At All
“Hey, Genesis,” she greets bleakly. I resist the urge to sigh. “I’m going to need you to be on call from now until when your shift starts tomorrow. You know I wouldn’t request this unless it was necessary, but with the winter storm rolling in, I want us to be all hands on deck and prepared for anything. It’s been a long time since snow’s been forecasted for San Diego.”
“Do you actually think we’ll get snow?” It’s been decades, so naturally, I find it hard to believe.
“Hard to tell, but I’ve been watching all the weather reports and checking the apps and they all say the same. Regardless, the rain should be hitting within the hour, and you know people in California are awful at driving in the rain. We’re going to need the extra manpower.”
“You’re right about that. I completely understand.” Although as I say the words, my heart sinks. I’m supposed to have family dinner tonight, and I haven’t had the chance to see my whole family in weeks. I really don’t want to miss it, or be called out halfway, but I know when it comes to my job, I have to pay my dues and earn seniority.
“Thanks, Gen. I knew I could count on you. Try to enjoy your day, just keep your phone on you.”
“Will do! And let’s hope for the sun!”
She laughs, then hangs up without another word.
Groaning, I sink back down onto my bed and let my eyes shut. Ten minutes to sit, then I’ll prepare everything I need for work, so I’m ready to go if I get called in. Last time this happened, I had to be there within an hour.
Let’s hope that doesn't happen again.
“Why the hell do you always look like you just stepped off Santa's sleigh?” Lincoln eyes me with a look of distaste as I fly out of the elevator. He’s standing at the nurses’ station, talking to Olivia, a nurse who’s around my age. I’m in my scrub pants, but still rocking my light up holiday sweater after realizing I forgot the long-sleeve shirt I like to layer under my scrub top. Thankfully, I keep a few extra in my locker at work, which is where I’m heading now.
Breezing past him, I shout from over my shoulder, “I don’t need your sass right now, Doctor Stokes. I’ve got a mom at nine centimeters waiting for another nurse.”
The nurses’ locker room is empty when I push my way through the heavy door, but I notice the sound of it shutting takes a few seconds longer than it should. Ignoring the footsteps behind me as they draw closer, I enter my combination, disengaging the lock quickly and easily locating my white long-sleeve.
The exasperated huff behind me lets me know exactly who’s followed me in here. “It’s unprofessional for patients to see you in plain clothes.”
“I thought my clothes were too festive? Now they’re plain?” I quip, slamming the locker closed. Spinning the lock, I quirk a brow. “Are you going to just stand here while I change, or?”
Lincoln sends me a glare. “First off, I’m a doctor. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before, Genesis?—”
I feign a gasp. “Nurse Nikolaou, Doctor. I thought we were keeping things professional.”
“Nurse Nikolaou,” he repeats through gritted teeth. “Second, don’t flatter yourself.”
Turning, he faces the lockers opposite of mine, folding his arms over his chest.
I silently chuckle and pull my sweater overhead. He doesn’t need to know I have a tank top underneath.
Tugging the long-sleeve on, followed by my scrub top, I dress quickly, then lean against the lockers. “Was there something you needed, Doctor?”
He sneaks a glance—well, a glare—over his shoulder at me. When he sees I’m dressed, he rolls his eyes and faces me again. “Yeah, I...” His voice trails off and another crease divots between his brows. “You know what? Never mind.”
“Aw, Lincoln, don’t get all flustered!” I call out to him as he hustles away. But he surprises me by stopping, although he doesn’t turn around. And I’m not sure why I’m compelled to keep poking the bear, but I do. “I think you just need a little holiday cheer in your life. Want me to go get you a sweater?”
My heart rate increases as I wait for his response, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he shakes his head and leaves me standing in the locker room alone.
Ten minutes later, I’m brushing sweaty tendrils of golden-hued hair off my patient's forehead with one hand, while she squeezes the life out of my other. “You’ve got this, Mama! Breathe through it. Doctor Newhall should be here any second.”
Incoherent cries fly from her as she squeezes her eyes shut. “I need to push!”
I send a nervous glance to a nurse with far more experience than me. She nods once. Turning my attention back to the patient, I gently squeeze her hand. “Okay, let’s have a baby then! I want you to push when I tell you to. Are you ready?”
Adrenaline courses through my veins, excitement overtaking me. Although I’m not entirely sure what area I want to specializein, I’m never disappointed when the floater pool brings me up to labor and delivery.
With another squeeze of the mom's hand, I count backward from three and settle in to help bring a little miracle into the world.
Chapter Five
Every floor is quiet, the awful fluorescent lights a bit lower, and the hustle and bustle of the day has become slower, more leisurely paced. Emergencies are at a minimum too, at least for now. It’s the middle of the night—the time I cherish most. When I’m able to process and think, and take a second to breathe.
