Six
Beckett
W hen I get home after a long day at the hospital, the house is picked up and silent.
It’s clean enough that I worry for a moment that Sadie has moved out, but then I find her sitting by the pool.
The setting sun makes her look like a shadow against the golden sky.
It feels strange to see her here, in my private space.
Even stranger is the heavy look in her eyes when she looks up at me.
“Beckett,” she says, her voice a little unsure.
“Sadie.” The serious feeling in the air catches me off guard. “What’s going on?”
She looks out at the sunset, the sky turning darker by the second. “Thanks for helping Rosie today. You treat her like she’s not sick, and I know that means a lot to her.”
I nod. “She’s living in the hospital, waiting for a heart. It’s the least I can do.”
Sadie looks out at the lake as the sun disappears. “Is it terrible to hope someone dies so she can live?”
“I think the better way to think about it is that if someone dies, it will give her a chance to live,” I say, trying to sound optimistic. “But that needs to happen pretty soon.”
Sadie nods. “We have so many plans for after she gets her heart. I’m sure you see this all the time, but why does someone like Joey Madero get a liver transplant without issue and Rosie, who likes everyone and is always so positive, doesn’t?”
I sigh. Joey is a guy from town who’s in jail in Alberta for killing someone on the oil fields.
“At least she has people visiting her,” I say with a shrug. “She’s not alone.”
“Yeah,” Sadie says, but she doesn’t seem convinced. “It’s just…unfair.”
I nod, feeling the same way.
“Why don’t you call her Rosie like everyone else?” she asks after a moment.
I shrug. I can’t tell her I crossed a professional boundary with Rosie by thinking of her as a friend. We went to high school together, for God’s sake. But I’m her doctor now, so I’m trying to correct that. “She’s my patient, and her name is Rosemary.”
Sadie rolls her eyes, and it makes me smile. There are more layers to her than I realized.
“What about you?” I ask after a moment. “How’s the job search going?”
Sadie offers a small smile, but I catch frustration in her eyes. “Slow. Very slow,” she says, looking away. “But summer is coming. When the tourists show up, I’ll have plenty of jobs to choose from.”
Long shadows stretch across the patio. “Why not find a job that lasts all year?” I ask.
Sadie’s face changes. “I did once,” she says quietly. “It made me feel trapped.”
I want to ask more, but I hold back. I can tell she doesn’t want to talk about it.
The evening air turns cool. In the distance, I hear neighbors laughing, but it sounds small compared to the quiet between us. “It’s okay to feel lost sometimes,” I tell her. “Especially when the world feels like it’s asking too much.”
Sadie looks at me, and for a second, it seems we understand each other without saying anything. “I suppose you’re right,” she says. “But sometimes, it feels like I’m just waiting. Waiting for everything.”
“Me too,” I whisper. Her worry for Rosie mixes with my own frustration about finding a viable heart. Somehow, it pulls us closer.
“Let’s go inside,” I suggest after a moment. The cold is sinking into my bones. “I’m hungry.”
She nods. “Me too.”
The warmth of the house wraps around us, and I lead Sadie toward the kitchen. I can’t stop thinking about the soft smile she gave me outside.
I open the fridge and look in. It’s pretty empty—just some takeout boxes and a bottle of ketchup. “Looks like I need to go grocery shopping,” I note.
Sadie leans against the counter, her fingers sliding over the cool surface. “Or you could just get someone to cook for you.”
I laugh. “I’ll get right on that. But for now, how about I order Paradise Grill? You interested in a salad?” I tease.
She lifts an eyebrow, and a playful spark returns to her eyes. “I didn’t know you had a rabbit.”
I grin. “What do you feel like eating?”
“I think the roasted chicken,” she says. “What about you?”
“A ribeye, medium rare,” I say as I send the order.
Just then, Sadie’s phone pings. She stiffens.
“Everything okay?” I ask. “Is it Alex?”
“No. It’s nothing,” she says quickly, but I can hear the tightness in her voice. The easy feeling between us fades.
I try to lighten the mood. “We don’t need to stand around in the kitchen. Let’s go sit in the living room. It won’t be long. ”
“Right,” she says, but her voice is far away, like her mind is somewhere else.
As I follow her into the living room, she pauses, seeming lost in her thoughts. “I’ll just grab some drinks,” I say, going back to the fridge.
“Sure,” she murmurs. Her eyes stay glued to her phone, like she’s waiting for something.
After a minute, Sadie clears her throat. “I’ll be right back.” She walks toward the bedroom.
I’m left alone in the living room, surprised by how easy it was to talk to her. I hear her phone ping again and wonder who keeps messaging her. Despite what she said, my guess is Alex.
I sit down on the couch, and my mind spins with questions. What is she hiding?
I’m left waiting, wondering if she’ll come back…and if she’ll ever let me see the things she’s hidden.