3. Avery
3
AVERY
S unshine shimmers through the floor to ceiling windows of the medical center atrium as I walk through with a coffee in my hand. It’s busy with the usual bustle of a mid-week morning.
“Good morning.” I smile at a nurse as she passes.
It’s been two months since I started at the clinic, and I still get a rush every morning when I walk into work.
After six years of study and hours of placements, it’s a thrill to have my first proper job. Not that I’ve had patients of my own yet. I’m still on probation, and Maria, the clinic manager, is easing me into the job. She may be a little too cautious. I’ve had patients where she’s sat in with me, but I’m ready to take on someone on my own.
I pause before a trestle table displaying knitted baby clothes. The pastel colors fan out over the table, which is presided over by a large woman who rests her dark-skinned hands on her substantial stomach.
“Morning Avery.”
I finger one of the pastel-colored cardigans. “It’s so tiny.” My heart squeezes thinking about the tiny baby that would fit into something so small.
A matching knitted hat and booties are on display next to it, and I pick up the set.
“I’ll take this one.”
Gina raises an eyebrow at me and peers at me with dark chocolate eyes. “Who you buying all these for, honey?”
I pull a twenty out of my purse and hand it over. “The same babies you’re knitting them for.”
She takes the money, and a deep smile creases her lined face. “God bless you, Avery.”
I fold the knitted outfit into my purse and continue to the clinic. I’ll run it up to the NICU on my break.
Gina and her knitting circle knit the baby outfits for free, and all proceeds go to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit and the families whose babies end up there.
I don’t know why they don’t cut out the middleman and give the outfits straight to the babies who need them most. But I guess Gina enjoys coming to the Medical Center every day.
I take the corridor that leads to my clinic and use my keycard to get through the doors.
“There you are.” Maria accosts me as soon as I’m in the door.
Her usually perfect black hair is falling out of its tight bun, and strands hang loose around her face.
“Nat called in sick. She’s got a new patient at ten, and I’ve got a department meeting...”
“I’ll do it.” I don’t let her finish the sentence. I’m eager to take on a patient of my own. It’s what I’m trained for.
Maria frowns at me, and her brows pull together. She’s cautious, and I get it. It’s her department. She has to answer to the board and whoever else.
“I’m ready, Maria. You’ve seen me with other patients. I haven’t made one mistake.”
She peers at me, assessing. I give her my biggest, most confident smile.
“It could be a difficult one. He’s a veteran.”
Thoughts of my brother invade my mind. It’s been almost four months since we lost him. But the pain is as sharp as if it was yesterday.
I squeeze my eyes shut. This is no time to think about Jake. There’s a patient who needs me, a veteran. I take a deep breath and open my eyes.
Maria’s watching me like a hawk. This is why she’s hesitant. It’s not because she thinks I can’t do it. It’s because she thinks it might bring up my grief about Jake.
I square my shoulders and look her in the eye. “I can do this.”
She regards me for a long moment before nodding once. “Let’s do the first session and see how it goes. We can always transfer him back to Nat if we need to.”
She hands me a file and I go to take it, eager to find out about my first actual patient. But she doesn’t release it yet. I glance up at Maria, and there’s a warning in her eyes.
“I need to keep the comms open, Avery. If it’s too much for you, you tell me straight away, okay?”
I nod, and she relinquishes the file.
At the same moment, the buzz of the door sounds. “Here he is now.”
I spin around, and my heart forgets to beat. Standing on the other side of the door, all six foot something, shaggy-haired and wearing a scowl that could freeze ice, is Edward Turner.
My heart stammers in my chest at the sight of my brother’s best friend.
His thundercloud-gray eyes regard me from the other side of the glass door. His dark hair is thick and shaggy, and the jagged scar on his left cheek, still raw, only adds to his rugged handsomeness.
His intense gaze makes my body prickle with heat and my knees feel like they might give way. He’s had this effect on me since I was fourteen years old.
It was the first time Jake brought Ed back with him on leave. They were new recruits, and Ed didn’t pay much attention to his best friend’s baby sister. But I sure paid attention to him.
He only came back with Jake one more time, and I was away at college by then. But Jake talked about Ed all the time in his calls home. They went through BUD/s together, the Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL Training program renowned for how demanding it is both physically and mentally. Then they ended up on the same SEAL team, doing missions together, God knows where.
A memory pops into my head from the time Ed came to stay. The local fair was on, and there was a street party in Hope. It was raising money for the local Search and Rescue, and the guys were in their Navy dress uniforms shaking buckets to help the cause.
My bucket wasn’t as full as theirs, but I wanted to be around my big brother.
Every female over the age of sixteen stopped by to give the Navy boys a smile and donate money. They were enjoying it too, flirting with the pretty girls and making plans to meet at The Landing later.
A stall was selling cupcakes to raise money, and I bought three, one for each of us. They were big cupcakes, and I was trying to carry all three of them back to my brother and his hot friend. A senior girl from school knocked into me, and the cupcakes tumbled to the ground.
“Fuck off, fatso,” she hissed as she trampled pink icing into the ground, pushing her boobs out on her way to get to the hotties in the Navy uniforms.
Ed found me an hour later sitting behind the ice-cream van with my eyes red from crying. He gave me a tissue and bought me an ice cream.
I didn’t tell him what happened, but I think he guessed the gist of it.
“Don’t let anyone make you feel less than you are,” he said.
He spoke to me like I was someone worth talking to and not invisible or taking up space I shouldn’t.
Then Jake came over with two girls, and they went off to The Landing.
It was only a few moments of kindness, and Ed probably doesn’t remember. But ever since then, whenever a guy has shown an interest in me, they have to pass the Ed test. Do they make me feel important the way he did? So far, the answer has always been no.
That was ten years ago. Now, standing with Ed on the other side of the glass, I remember his words. “Don’t let anyone make you feel less than you are.”
I push my shoulders back, put on my brightest smile, and open the door.