Page 69 of Eligible Best Friend

He ducks his head, relief obvious in his eager stance. “Sure, of course.”

Confident that we’re not going to be called into the boss’s office to get reprimanded after Dr. Dermatologist calls to complain about Russel’s attitude, I hurry after the arrogant bastard.

So many examples of what not to do with this guy.

He’s already asking the patient questions. As for the patient, he wants to leave, and he wants to leave yesterday, but the bulge under his pant leg won’t let him. I’m one-hundred-percent sure that he’s busted a femur.

The man is swearing and gritting his teeth. Yelling for us to let him go and shouting at the driver, with terrified eyes, standing by the police car. “Just let me go. It’s not my fault that bastard didn’t watch where he was going.”

Ford’s usually the calming one, but Russel’s talking in short, curt sentences and ignoring me. The rest of the call feels like a fumbling mess as I try to anticipate Russel’s intentions. He won’t look at me and I only know he’s talking to me when he spouts off medical jargon.

I hold in my temper as we drive to the hospital.

Russel ditches me and the patient to go refill his meds, leaving me with the updates and probably all the computer work. The patient’s arguing with the nurse and I look for the doctor I need to give my report to.

I’ve been spoiled with Ford for a partner. For the first time since our hotel fight and breakup, I worry about my decision. Mitch has Arnesh as a partner. Russel’s an idiot that should’ve been fired years ago. There’s Jada, who’s okay to work with. I scroll through the rest of the paramedics I could partner with until I finish my courses.

I’ve committed to the company. If I wanted a different five-year plan, I shouldn’t have signed that contract. I could’ve been free to go. I could have been a paramedic in St. Paul. Then I’d also have to pay for my education on top of the cost of the move. They might offer the same contract, but I’d be locked in. What if Cass uprooted Jayden again?

I’d be stuck doing what I did years ago when I let Samuel lead me around, making decisions for me, disguising them as my own. No. I square my shoulders and rattle off the report to Dr. Sanchez.

As the saying goes, I made my decision and I’m sticking to it.

Twenty

Ford

My new apartment is filled with my old things. Until my house sells, I’m on a tight budget. Mom comes out of the bathroom, where she stocked my towels and washcloths. I didn’t ask her to help, but she insisted. I asked her to keep Karoline and Ryan out of it. They’ve been nothing but supportive and have been great resources for finding me lawyers to contact, even offering up the retainer, but for the actual move, I wanted to come and lick my wounds on my own.

She brushes her hands and looks around my new home. “That’s about all. When do you start work?”

“Next Monday.” I’ll be working at St. Paul’s Level 1 trauma center. Unironically, it’s the same hospital Cass is an administrator at.

“That’ll be exciting.”

“It’ll be something.” I have zero interest in meeting my new partner. Whether I’m stuck with the same person for each shift or rotate, I don’t care.

“I’m sure you realize that it’s that time of year.”

“November?”

“It’s not too late to apply for residencies. You’re in the Twin Cities, where there’re actually spots.”

I frown and stare at the swirls in my boring ceramic tile floors. Minneapolis has a medical school and between the city and St. Paul, across the river, I have plenty of options. I haven’t thought of residency for weeks. Not since Lia last mentioned it.

Mostly, I just think about Lia. Between her and fighting for custody, I have no other thoughts. They’ve taken over my brain.

“It’s over, Mom.”

“Actually, I think it’s time to start.” She approaches me like she’s cornering a tiger. She cups my face like she used to do when I was a kid. “You’ve done so much for others. Think about yourself. Think about what you want.”

“What I want is in Fargo.” I can’t believe I’ve confessed that. “But it’s also here and I can’t be in two places at once.”

“Perhaps once you do what you really want to do in life, what you’re called to do, the two things will have a way of joining together.”

“Life doesn’t work that way.”

She lets me go and lifts a shoulder. “Then think about what you’d want your life to mean if you don’t win the custody battle.” She turns away, leaving me reeling from one simple question. “I’d better hit the road so I can get back before dark. Love you, hon.”

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