12. Trevor
Chapter 12
Trevor
I set the steaming mug of coffee on Brooke's nightstand, the aroma mingling with the scent of sea air drifting through her open window. The omelet I prepared sizzles on the plate beside it, golden and fluffy. I watched a video online and followed the steps very carefully.
Brooke stirs, her red hair a tousled halo on the pillow. Those green eyes blink open, focusing on me with sleepy warmth that sets my pulse racing.
"Good morning, beautiful," I murmur, perching on the edge of the bed. "Breakfast is served," I add with a flourish. “Chef’s special. I expect rave reviews.”
She stretches languidly, the sheet slipping to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of smooth skin. "Mmm, you spoil me. Is this how you treat all your conquests?"
I chuckle, trailing my fingers along her arm. "Only the exceptionally sexy librarian ones."
Brooke sits up, pulling the sheet with her as she reaches for the coffee. "Flattery will get you everywhere." She takes a sip, her lips curving in appreciation. "God, that's good. Almost as good as last night… almost ."
Heat floods my cheeks at the memory of last night. " High praise indeed. Though I'd say last night was in a league of its own."
We share a few quiet moments together, sipping coffee, making small talk. And then, reluctantly, I glance at my watch. “I should get going,” I say, a hint of regret in my voice.
Brooke nods, looking up with a playful smile. “Well, thank you for the coffee and culinary masterpiece. I’ll be sure to recommend you to all my friends.”
I grin, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “Next time, I’m hoping for a third date review.”
She laughs softly. “Oh, I think I can manage that.”
I head out to my car, a spring in my step as I whistle unusually cheerful this morning. I can’t help but think about Brooke—her wit, her warmth, that understated sex appeal that’s somehow amplified by her quiet confidence. Who would have thought a school librarian could be this… alluring? I chuckle to myself. If all librarians were like her, I’d have spent a lot more time at the library in school.
As I reach the hospital, the shift in atmosphere is immediate, but I can’t quite shake my good mood. My first patient of the morning is Florence, one of the ‘Walking Ladies’, a group of octogenarian women who do laps around the town every morning, rain or shine.
Florence is scheduled for a check-up on her toe that she managed to drop a dumbbell on when she was attempting to impress her friends by entering a weightlifting contest at the local gym. I find her waiting in the exam room, flanked by her friends Gladys, Betty, and Joan—all of them in their early eighties and feisty as ever. You never see one without the other three. They’re a package deal and one you need to mentally prepare for.
“Morning, ladies,” I greet them, holding back a grin as Florence gives me a knowing look .
“Well, look who’s up early today,” Florence says, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Gladys, leaning heavily against the exam table next to Florence, nods and says, “Must be that special someone keeping you out late at night. Isn’t that right, Dr. Jacobs?”
Betty pipes up next, “Oh, we saw you driving away from Brooke Edwards’ place this morning. She’s single, you know.”
I clear my throat, trying to maintain a professional demeanor. “You ladies certainly keep an eye on things around town, don’t you?”
Joan laughs, patting my arm. “Oh, honey, we see everything. And let me tell you, if Brooke hasn’t snatched you up yet, I’d be happy to.” She attempts to wink at me and for a split second I think she may be having a mini stroke, but she recovers quickly.
I can’t help but chuckle, shaking my head. “Thank you, Joan. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
Florence waves a hand, dismissing my deflection. “So, what’s she like? Brooke is such a lovely girl. And we hear she’s got quite a sense of humor.”
“Alright, alright,” I say, holding up a hand to stop them before this conversation gets any more embarrassing. “Ladies, I think it’s time we focus on Florence’s toe injury.”
But Gladys isn’t about to let it go. “Just make sure you treat her right, Dr. Jacobs. We like you well enough, but we’ll be watching out for Brooke. She gets those spicey books for us to read.”
“Yes! The ones from Irene Lawless, Delta James, Sheila Fowler, CA Miconi, and Sophie Quinn. That’s my new favorite author – Sophie Quinn.” Florence announces. “It’s full of sex.”
“Duly noted,” I say, unable to stop smiling as I give Florence’s shoulder a reassuring pat.
“Did you know that a guy’s penis is also called a ‘shaft’? There are other names for it, too! There’s cock, wood…” She looks to her friends, “What are some others?” she asks them.
“Is he blushing?” Gladys asks, and the ladies erupt into laughter.
"A nice doctor like you could be just what Brooke needs," Betty adds with a wink. "And lord knows, you could use a good woman to come home to."
I'm saved from responding by the sudden blare of my pager. Glancing down, my stomach drops as I read the urgent message. "Ladies, I'm sorry, but I have to go. There's an emergency in the ER." I turn to Florence, “Florence, your toe looks good as new. Keep wearing good shoes and stop trying to lift weights that are too heavy to lift. Okay?”
As I rush out, Florence calls after me, "Don't be a stranger, Dr. Jacobs! And tell Brooke we said hello!"
I race down the hallway, my mind shifting gears. The stark reality of my job crashes over me, washing away the lingering warmth of this morning's memories with Brooke and just now with the Walking Ladies.
In the trauma bay, the severity of the situation is immediately clear. A young patient, barely sixteen, overdosed on a new street drug, then crashed his truck into a tree. He’s in critical condition, and every second counts.
“Let’s move, people,” I say, my voice firm as I step into the chaos. “I want to get him to the OR in less than five minutes.” My focus narrows to the patient, blocking out all distractions.
Vivian strolls into the bay as she flips her long, dark hair over her shoulder and pushes another nurse aside. “I’ve got this. Go do something useful.” She says to the young nurse. In shock, the nurse looks up to Vivian who gives her the ‘shooing’ motion as if she was a child. “I said go.”
As the nurse starts to back away, Vivian tries to jump in but fumbles with the instruments, dropping a syringe. “Vivian, focus,” I say sharply, my patience already wearing thin .
She flashes me a flirtatious smile, clearly flustered. “Sorry, Trevor, I mean… Dr. Jacobs. It was her fault for being in my way.” Typical Vivian-style…blaming others for her ineptitude.
My jaw tightens. I can’t afford any distractions right now, not with a patient’s life on the line. “Vivian, step aside,” I say, my tone leaving no room for argument. “We need someone steady on this.”
The room goes silent for a brief second, but the team quickly recovers, moving around her as the young nurse takes her place again. Vivian steps back, her expression unreadable, but I can’t dwell on it now. She storms out of the bay as we stabilize the patient for transport upstairs to the operating room.
Once the patient is put under and I’ve scrubbed in, I continue working, my hands remaining steady, but inside, my heart pounds. The weight of the moment is crushing. This kid barely had a chance to start his life, and here he is, fighting for it because of one reckless and stupid decision.
I push down the emotions, burying them beneath layers of focus, but a part of me aches for him, for his family. My hands move with practiced precision as I work to stabilize the patient. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor becomes my focal point, each sound a reminder of the fragile life hanging in the balance when suddenly the monitors start singing again.
"BP's dropping," a nurse calls out.
"I see it," I respond, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. "Push another round of epinephrine."
As I work, my mind flashes to the boy's family, likely pacing anxiously in the waiting room. It's a stark contrast to the lighthearted banter with Florence and her friends just a few moments ago. The weight of their hope presses down on me, fueling my determination to save this kid’s life .
"Come on, kid," I mutter under my breath. "You've got too much life ahead of you to check out now."
Dr. Patel arrives, immediately assessing the situation. "What do you need, Trevor?"
"Help me find the bleeders," I instruct, grateful for his calm presence. "We need to get this bleeding under control."
As we work in tandem, I'm reminded of why I chose this path. The rush of saving a life, the delicate dance between skill and chance – it's addictive in its own way. But with every triumph comes the risk of heartbreak.
"He's stabilizing," Dr. Patel announces after what feels like hours.
I let out a breath. "Good work, everyone. Let's keep him that way."
As the immediate danger passes, I allow myself a moment of reflection. This is my world – a constant balance between hope and heartbreak, life and death. It's exhausting, exhilarating, and utterly essential to who I am.
As I step out of the operating room, peeling off my gloves, I catch my reflection in the glass door. My face looks haggard, drained. The morning’s lightness, the promise of a budding romance with Brooke, feels worlds away now. But even so, I can’t help but think of her, of her calming presence, and how much I look forward to seeing her again.
“Hey, Doc, you did good in there,” one of the nurses says, patting my shoulder as she passes by.
I nod, managing a faint smile. “Thanks.”
But even as I walk away, I know that today’s events will stay with me, a reminder of the fine line I walk every day between joy and sorrow and knowing that there’s someone worth looking forward to on the other side of my day makes all the difference.
“What the fuck was that, Trevor?” Vivian’s shrill voice carries through the hospital hallways .
Turning to face her wrath, “I could ask you the same damn thing! Don’t you dare ever walk into a room and push a nurse out of the way again. Do you understand me? I’ll have you permanently removed from the hospital.” I turn to walk away from her.
“You embarrassed me in front of my co-workers for no reason!” She ignores my demand as she grabs my arm and pulls me around to face her.
I throw my finger in her face, “No, Vivian. You did that all on your own. Stay away from my patients and from me. Do you hear me?” I wait a breath to see if she does but she doesn’t seem to grasp how serious I am. “Do you?”
Parker walks up next to us, “Everything okay here?” He asks.
“Dr. Travino.” Vivian acknowledges his presence then turns to me giving me an evil eye and walks away.
Parker whistles. “I hope she’s not some kind of witch or something, because if she is, you just got cursed my friend.” We both watch Vivian saunter down the hallway and turn around the corner.
“Oh, she’s a witch all right. Just not the kind you’re talking about.”