Chapter 9 - Diana
“My feet are screaming at me,” Ashley whines as she sits down, and I can’t help but laugh at her as I update a chart.
“You sure it isn’t the little ones inside you?”
With a groan, she rubs her belly. “Both. Remind me again not to have twins next time.”
“Not sure that’ll work, but I’ll try,” I mutter as I flip through a few pages to make sure I have it all updated.
She’s only in her second trimester, but you’d swear it was her third with the way she’s carrying the twins. I don’t envy her. Being on our feet all day is exhausting. Add in the joys of pregnancy and it’s twice as hard. I can’t even imagine.
“Barry still hoping for two boys?” Her husband has been swearing they’re going to be his little fire buddies. The guy’s been a firefighter since he got out of high school and married his sweetheart. The only thing he’s more nuts about than fire is her.
I should have figured he’d go into firefighting. He was always burning stuff in high school. I’m still surprised he never got into any serious trouble over it. Probably helped that his mom was a guidance counselor, and he said everything was a “controlled burn.”
When she doesn’t answer right away, I look up. The always-smiling blonde cheerleader type you want to hate on looks alone but never actually could because of her bubbly personality is now frowning.
“What’s wrong, Ash?”
She shakes her head but then speaks anyway. “It’s just… Barry’s been acting funny lately.”
“Funny how?”
“Like I should take more time off.”
I snort. “That sounds awesome. A break from this place would be a blessing. Maybe he can take you on one of those babymoons and you can get off your feet the entire time.”
“More like he wants me to quit.”
My eyes widen. “Quit? But you love this place. Even more than I do.”
She smiles and puts her hand on my arm in comfort. She was a nurse before I started and helped make me see how awesome it could be.
“I think you and I love it the same. Which Barry knows. We used to always say that he would save the people from the fire and I’d nurse them back to health.
But lately, he keeps saying that I need to stay home and focus on him and the babies more.
That work is taking up too much of my time.
Like somehow I’m cheating on him with my job. ”
Now I join in her frown. “That doesn’t sound like Barry at all.”
“Right? It’s so weird.”
I shrug. “Maybe he’s just nervous about being a dad. You’ve seen how people can get—scared and jealous over things that don’t even matter. Maybe he’s worried that you’ll spend more time with the kids than him.”
“Yeah, maybe.” She shrinks in on herself in thought.
“Think about it, okay? I’m sure if you just talk to him or maybe take some time away for just the two of you it’ll be fine.”
“We have been going nonstop since we discovered the news. And I do have some time off, and he’s off rotation next week.”
“See, it’s meant to be.” I stand up and hold out my hands till she puts hers in them, then pull her to her feet. “Go talk to Beatrice about getting her to approve the time off.” I spin her around and smack her ass. “Now, shoo.”
Her smile, like her personality, is infectious. And it keeps me smiling for most of the day. But by dinner, I’m more than exhausted. I’m downright dead on my feet. And the only thing that’s worse than my feet is the microwavable meal waiting for me.
“Diana, take a break,” Vicky barks at me.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say I’ll pass, but if I know Vicky, she’ll run me ragged till the end of my shift, even if I beg to take a break. I’d better take one now, sad meal and all, before I get nothing.
As I make it down to the break room, I pull out my phone. I’ve been debating texting Karter all day. Last night was amazing. I hardly slept, my thoughts jumping from one memory to the next. It was a perfect evening. Almost too good to be true.
And I guess it was, because I haven’t heard a thing from him. Sure, it’s only been a day, but if it meant something at all, there would be a text. A call. Hell, a smoke signal. Something. Anything. Right?
Instead, it’s been nothing but silence.
I slide my phone back into my pocket and turn the corner.
“Dr. Trooper.” I nod in greeting as I watch him pour a cup of coffee.
“Diana. How’s the patient in 405 doing?”
“Better. The prescription has taken down the fever and the swelling. I think he should be able to go home by tomorrow.”
“That’s good.” He takes his cup and heads for the door.
“Oh, and Diana?”
I turn to look at him as I start to pull my food from the freezer. He’s waiting at the entrance.
“Yeah?”
“Think you’ve got something in the fridge.” Then he’s gone.
I take a beat, confused as hell, before I open the fridge and see my name on a bag.
I pull it out, and inside is the same meal from last night. Still warm, as if it was just dropped off.
Perfect. Just like everything else the man does.
I pull my phone out and worry my lip between my teeth as I debate whether to call or text him. In the end, fear of not knowing what to say more than “thanks” wins out, and I open a chat.
Thank you for dinner.
I send a picture with it so he knows what I’m talking about. Which I’m pretty sure he does. He was the only one at the restaurant last night who I knew, and the only one who heard me say how it was something I could eat almost daily.
Quicker than I expected, he texts back.
Hopefully it’s still warm. I took a guess on when you’d been taking a break.
Oh my gosh. Was he here? Or did he just have Dr. Trooper drop it off?
I know they’re close, but how close? Are all members in the club close?
How does that even work? I had one, maybe two best friends growing up.
When Mom got sick, everything outside the bubble just disappeared, including friends.
And then she died, and I focused on school.
Since then, unless someone works at the hospital, I don’t talk to them.
Not that I don’t want to, but I just don’t have the time.
After work, I sleep or fix up the house.
There isn’t a lot of socializing in my life, even if I had a ton of people asking to hang out nightly. Which I don’t.
It’s perfect. You didn’t have to, but I’m totally eating it over the frozen roast beef and mashed potatoes I had waiting for me.
His response is almost immediate.
Sounds horrible. Remind me to cook enough dinner for you to have leftovers.
I shake my head at his words and let my fingers fly. Not putting much thought into what I’m saying, just telling the truth.
Leftovers never last. Between my late-night cravings and Nana, our plans for a good lunch or dinner the next day go out the window when midnight hunger hits.
I set my phone down and dig in. The smell of the food is too good to resist any longer.
A few more texts come in, but I ignore them till I get halfway done. Which doesn’t take long. I learned early in my career that it’s best to speed through eating because you don’t know when your break will suddenly end. And with the way today keeps going, I’m going to need my energy.
When I finally look back at my phone, I see he sent four more messages.
Double remind me to make more than I should.
Or maybe I should just make you midnight snacks to prevent the issue.
A leftover before the leftover sort of thing.
Of course, that might require me to see you after midnight. You know, just to make sure you grab the right leftover.
I feel myself getting hot and no doubt red at his words. I type, but then erase it. Then try again, but there’s nothing to say that won’t make this worse.
You blushing on me, Babygirl? He adds a winky face to the end, and I think I might be blushing hard. He knows what gets to me.
I do the only reasonable, sensible thing there is.
I send a thumbs-up emoji.
Which gets a laughing emoji in response.
We continue our childish banter back and forth for a few more minutes before a code blue occurs in one of my assigned rooms, and I’m out of the break room the next second. Food and texting are forgotten until the patient is stable again.
By the time I make it back to the break room, my food is where I left it but cold as can be. And honestly, I ate most of it, so there isn’t any need to keep it to reheat later. After tossing it and cleaning my space, I pull out my phone.
Karter texted a few times. Nothing more than being silly, but it still brings a smile to my face.
Sorry for ignoring you for a bit. Had an emergency call at work. Really appreciate the food. Thanks again. It gave me just enough energy to get through the next hour of work I had left.
I’m halfway back to the nurses’ desk before I feel my phone buzz again. Pulling it out before I get to my station, I read over his words and smile.
Hope all is okay. And anytime, Babygirl.
As I expected, his words and the food carry me through the last hour.
“You heading out?” Ashley asks with a smile.
I nod. “Yeah.” I grab my bookbag and groan as I swing it onto my back. It doesn’t weigh much, but after long days like today, it can feel like a lead weight. “You coming in tomorrow?”
She shakes her head with a smile. “No, Beatrice could carve out a few extra days. Going to spend tomorrow pampering and doing some baby prep, and then I’m taking my hubby away for some long-awaited time alone. I already called his boss and got him to clear it too.”
“That’s wonderful, Ash. Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will. Bye.”
I wave to her as I head out.
It takes a bit because I’m never one to just walk away.
I check in with a few of the nurses who are taking over my patients and then with Vicky, the head nurse, letting her in on what I know about how things are going so she can tell her counterpart about my patients as well.
We might not be the biggest hospital, but we’ve all made it work for us.
I pull out my phone as I walk out and look over the texts again, debating if I should text him. I have nothing to say, but I want to talk to him. About what? No clue. I just like how I feel when he responds.
“Need a lift, darling?”
I barely register the words, shaking my head and continuing to look down.
I always find it easier to seem busy but still respond.
The person might not be talking to me, but a headshake can either be a no to their question or, if they aren’t talking to me, I could just look like I’m reacting to something on my phone.
Easier than locking eyes with a stranger and having to deal with some creep picking up women at the hospital.
It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.
“You sure about that, Babygirl?”
My head snaps up, and I lock eyes with a smiling Karter, sitting on his bike right in front of the hospital. Leather jacket. Tight jeans. No helmet. Sexy as hell.
Is that safe? No. Seriously, no. I’ve seen enough to know a helmet is a must-have.
But is it a turn-on? One hundred fucking percent.
I stop dead in my tracks, staring at him with my mouth open like a damn fish or something.
“What are you doing here?”
He gives a small shrug, looking down briefly before back up at me. “I missed you.”