Jocelyn #2
As soon as they leave, I’m changing it to HGTV and hiding the remote. That’ll show ’em.
Cassie settles into the couch and glances back at me. “Hope it was fun.”
Anesthesiology is a male-dominated specialty. On my first day of work, I tried to make friends with Cassie and her duo of
prim, straitlaced followers. She made it clear in that silent, passive-aggressive way some women use that I wasn’t welcome
into her group of friends. So I made other friends instead. Now she seems perpetually angry with me, like I jilted her or
something.
I strongly suspect her antipathy has to do with Asher. Despite her on-again, off-again relationship with some radiologist,
she still harbors an obvious crush on my best friend. The invitation to Pool Party Saturdays is open to all, but Asher has
never directly invited her, likely because she’s such a dick to me all the time. But hey, maybe her hatred has everything
to do with me.
I choose the least mealy apple and settle into the couch across from her. “It was decent.”
She peels her—my—orange. “Your group is a little cliquey, don’t you think?”
I hide my scowl in a somewhat mushy crunch of apple. Ironic she thinks I’m cliquey given my friend group formed as a result
of my exclusion from hers. “I’m . . . sorry.”
“Just a piece of advice. You might start considering how your actions make other people feel.”
Classic Cassie. Playing the victim.
She also complains every month that the call schedule is a personal attack against her.
She writes the fucking schedule, gives herself the worst call shifts, then bitches about it.
The girl is always so extra.
But maybe . . . Maybe there’s some validity to her words. I don’t purposely exclude her, but she’s been unpleasant from day
one, so I don’t go out of my way to be nice. I should probably work on that.
Then the wondrous aroma of citrus fills the air, and I give exactly zero fucks about her feelings. “I’ll be more cognizant
of it in the future, Doctor Hersl.”
Her dark eyes flick up to meet mine, smooth features cast in their typical Resting Bitch Face. She’s pretty and delicate despite
that. Unlike me. My RBF looks like I want to murder things.
Looks usually aren’t deceiving.
My phone vibrates, Ali’s name flashing on the screen. A whooshing sensation sends my stomach to the floor. Ali never calls
me this early. What if she’s hurt? What if she’s dead? What if the kids—
“Hello?”
“Joss, hey.” Ali’s annoyed voice comes through the speaker. “Can you please reassure your nephew that you don’t kill people
for a living? He refuses to get out of the car for school otherwise.”
The knot in my chest unwinds, and I laugh. “What?”
“Mommy said you put people to sleep.” Leo’s voice hitches, like he’s trying not to cry. “Like Doctor Vannoy did with Buster.”
“Oh, honey.” I try not to chuckle at the pitiful tone. “I only help them take a nap. They always wake up.”
Usually.
99.9 percent of the time.
“Really?” Leo asks, brightening.
“Yes, baby. I don’t kill people.”
Across from me, Cassie stands and leaves without further ado. Good riddance.
“Oh, okay. Bye, Mom!”
“Have a good day in school,” Ali says, and a car door thunks closed. “He’s been so emotional lately.”
“You scared the hell out of me calling this early,” I whisper. “Thought someone died.”
“Crap. Sorry. I felt the same way yesterday when Nic forgot to call me on his way home from work. Why is my go-to response
always absolute certainty that they’re dead?”
A bitter laugh rises in my chest. “Because nine times out of ten, they are dead.”
Eighteen people. That’s how many we’ve lost in as many years.
Cousin. Wrapped his Jeep around a tree.
Favorite uncle. Stroke.
Ali’s best friend from childhood. Leukemia.
I’ve attended more funerals than weddings in my life.
“If I ever lost him . . . Or you. And don’t even mention the kids.” She sighs. “I’d just throw in the towel.”
“Aw! I love you, too.”
She chuckles. “I have to go. Stresses me out to drive in the rain.”
“Okay. Love you.”
The day progresses like a typical Monday. That is, it’s a shit show with a hundred add-on emergencies and epidural consults.
I cover Geoff’s cases and sneakily convince him to DoorDash Asian takeout for lunch since the hospital offering is meatloaf—ick.
He frowns down at the menu on my phone after his second case. “I guess I can eat fried rice.”
“Wow. So adventurous.”
He hands my phone back. Jeez, is that another email about Dragon training?
“You sure we can’t get Chick-fil-A?” he asks.
“I’m positive. They’re closed on Mondays.”
“No. They’re closed on Sundays.”
“You sure?” I smile. “Pretty sure it’s Mondays.”
With a put-upon grin, he shakes his head and walks away. My phone passes to several others throughout the department, and
a giant feast of Asian food soon spreads over the table in the physician lounge. I rub my hands in anticipation.
To-go containers are passed to their owners, leaving several picked-at community appetizers.
Ooh. Crab rangoon. Yes, please.
I didn’t get my orange this morning, but I’ll eat the hell out of some orange chicken.
And that crab rangoon, though . . .
Just one more.
Okay, three more.
I’m not ashamed there’s only one left. That’s what food is for. Eating.
I settle into a chair next to Geoff while we wait for the OR to be cleaned. “What’s your last case again?”
“Pyeloplasty.”
I hum. Long case. Good thing my phone is locked and loaded with some new novels. Romantasy is my jam. People are always coming
back to life in those books. Main character died? No problem. Here comes some heretofore undiscovered magic to bring her back
from the Other Side. Um . . . yes, please.
Already finished with his rice, Geoff turns toward me. “Yayoi says your sister is visiting soon.”
I nod. “A couple weeks from now.”
“She bringing the kids?”
I shake my head. “Just her.”
His shoulders droop. “Damn. Was hoping seeing the kids would scare Yayoi off the baby train.”
“Hate to break it to you, but my niece and nephew are adorable. Seeing them would only make her want a million kids.”
He sighs and stirs his fork—because he would never use chopsticks—through the scant grains of rice still in his bowl.
I nudge his shoulder. “What’s up, big guy?”
He leans closer, the better to secret our conversation from the two CRNAs across from us. “I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“Are you ever ready for something like that? Even the people who think they’re ready stare at the new baby in their arms and think, What the fuck have I gotten myself into?”
He laughs and the skin crinkles around his eyes. He’s got pretty blue ones, and I can see why Yayoi hopes their kids have
them. “It’s just a lot of responsibility, bringing new life into the world. Half the time, I still feel like a kid myself.”
“We’re all pretending, Geoff. Haven’t you realized that? We all just bumble through life and hope we don’t fall down too many
times along the way. I don’t have an answer to your doubts, but I’ll tell you this. You’re great, and any kids you have will
be lucky to call you Dad.”
His cheeks burn red, and he mutters an awkward thanks before turning to face me fully. “What about you, girl? You gonna be
alone forever? If I have to dive into things that scare me, why don’t you?”
“I’m—I’m not scared.” My spine stiffens, and I think my face contorts into an expression I want to be breezy, but must come
off as psychotic because he snorts and leans away from me.
“Oooookay,” he says. “You definitely just got all weird about it, so let’s talk about something else. Did Asher tell you why he never called back Yayoi’s cousin?”
I choke on the bite of chicken I shoved into my mouth. “God, you’re gossipy today.”
“Blame Yayoi. She thought they’d be perfect together and won’t stop wondering about what happened. I’m tired of talking about
it, and Asher won’t spill. Give me anything to tell Yayoi, and I’ll owe you.”
I shrug. “Asher just said she wasn’t into him.”
Geoff rolls his eyes. “Yes, she was. Asher’s never had a problem getting ladies interested.”
Oh, I’m well aware of that. He leaves swooning fangirls wherever he goes. Hot, single doctor. The holy grail.
His words from the other night replay through my head.
The only part they ever want to give me is their bodies.
Does he really believe that? If Asher wanted a woman—really wanted her—I can’t fathom how he couldn’t have her.
I was so sure he was still playing the field.
What other reason could he have for being single when he doesn’t want to be? It’s baffling.
For two solid seconds, the picture of him bound to some other woman, sharing his life with her, burns like an acid wash in
my brain. But then I shake myself with an inward laugh. This is Asher.
“So do you and Yayoi just sit around and gossip like old women?” I whisper.
He shrugs. “Sometimes.”
“Who ate my crab rangoon?”
My head snaps toward Cassie, holding up the single remaining puff. She’s staring at the others in the room, gaze landing on
each suspect. Heat saturates my face, and I turn my entire body toward Geoff, who’s giggling like a little girl, tears gathering
in his dumb blue eyes.
“I didn’t know it was hers,” I hiss. “Don’t you dare say a thing.”
“I won’t.” He leans closer and whispers, “But she’s eyeing you.”
My phone rings again. Thank goodness.
“Hello?”
“Doctor Mattox, it’s Jackie in OB. We need an epidural in room seven. She’s six centimeters and breathing hard.”
“All right, I’m on my way.” Ending the call, I glance at Geoff and grin. “Saved by OB call. Who’d have thought? Meet you in
the OR.”
He nods, and I head for labor and delivery. The epidural cart is already outside the room, so I log in to LEGENDARY and skim
the patient’s chart.
A tiny flicker of warmth lights in my chest at Asher’s name in the attending spot.
Inside the room, the patient moans, but her eyes light up when I walk through the door. Well, I probably should have actually