Chapter Twelve The Kitchens on Fire
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The next morning, the tension in the house was palpable.
Brie felt it from the moment she woke up, like electricity, filling the air in her new little home with a low, thrumming buzz. She hadn’t even blinked twice before the memory hit her like a wave of social nausea, and her stomach leaped up into her throat.
I was trying to hit on him.
Her eyes snapped shut.
And he pretended like it never happened.
She groaned and flung her arm over her face as though she could somehow shield herself from the embarrassment that threatened to swallow her whole. It wasn’t like her to make the first move to begin with. Historically speaking, she was used to being pursued, yet uninterested. The fact that she’d broken that pattern by trying to casually start things with her guardian angel? Mortifying.
Do NOT think about this now. Get ready for work.
She heard a clang of pots and pans but took ages to get ready, nervous to join him in the kitchen. She brushed her hair far too long, and her curls went from voluminous to positively unmanageable. She tried to undo the damage but was eventually forced to wrestle it all up into a messy bun. She stabbed herself twice in the eye with a mascara wand and lost her favorite lip gloss down a heating vent because her hands were trembling. In the end, she gave herself a despairing look in the mirror, took a deep breath, and told herself it would be alright.
Sherry says I look cute in scrubs. What does she call it? An irresistible disaster.
I need to work on my pep talks.
En route to the kitchen, she smelled an odor of things that ought not to have been cooked.
“Good morning,” she said with a forced brightness as she walked inside before halting in her tracks. “Sweet pole-vaulting Jesus, what happened here?”
Cameron had responded to his own tension by attempting to make her an omelet, a task that appeared to be woefully beyond his skill set. He also seemed to have pan-fried her phone.
“He prefers water sports to track and field,” he answered, hanging his head in frustration while trying to coax a dreary goo of eggs and former vegetables into the correct shape. “But He has a real advantage there, and nobody likes to race Him anymore.”
She stared at the back of his head. “Who?”
“You know. Jesus.”
She decided to ignore this. “Did you get into an argument with Siri again?”
“That venomous harpy has it in for me,” he muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“You battered my smartphone?”
His lips quirked up in a vengeful grin. “Not so terribly smart now, is it?”
She took a breath for patience. “ Battered , Cameron.”
“Nonsense. I didn’t hit it once.”
He shifted awkwardly, wiping his hands on a lacy, floral-print apron she’d never seen before. It looked suspiciously like the one the sweet old lady wore on those YouTube cooking tutorials to which he was becoming increasingly, begrudgingly addicted.
“Would you like some coffee?”
A deflection, if ever I saw.
“Sure, thank you.”
They bumped into one another when they tried to grab the same mug and flushed identical shades of deep red. Then their hands touched while reaching for the sugar, and her temperature rose ten degrees. Eventually, he retreated to the opposite side of the kitchen, averting his eyes and taking several deep breaths before finally permitting himself to speak.
“I wanted you to have a good breakfast,” he began hesitantly, “because I have something rather serious to talk to you about.”
She immediately choked on her coffee, scalding the back of her throat. An overwhelming impulse came over her to run fast and run far. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave the caffeine behind. No matter how much it ended up costing her.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you—”
“I think I should go home and tell my father about your situation.”
She went perfectly blank. “Oh.”
Original, pithy, articulate. Try saying “Oh” more often, Brie. It makes you sound like a real catch.
“You deserve answers,” he continued slowly. “Last night showed me that I was being selfish, staying here by your side. In trying to protect you, I may actually be compromising your safety by keeping us both in the dark.” He nodded at her pendant. “This is too powerful for guessing games. We need to know what’s going on.” His eyes lifted cautiously to hers. “Do you understand?”
She hesitated a second, then nodded too fast for it to pass as a natural gesture. “Yes, of course. I understand.”
He returned his attention to the stove, prodding at whatever miserable substance was slowly adhering itself to the pan. She traced circles around the rim of her coffee cup, thinking of Venezuela and wondering how close she might get to its borders without the navigational assistance of her phone.
She pushed abruptly to her feet when the silence reached a breaking point. “I should probably—”
“Such a thing is not permitted.”
She froze dead still as he turned slowly from the oven, staring with wide, luminous eyes as the pan on the stovetop caught fire behind him.
“There are laws where I come from,” he continued quietly. “Heavenly edicts that no one can disobey. Believe me when I tell you there are times that I want to. Believe me when I tell you that my personal feelings on the matter have absolutely no bearing on the way things have to be.”
She lowered her eyes to the floor, feeling like she’d been slapped across the face. A vague part of her understood it was beyond her comprehension. Another part understood it was beyond his control. But neither was a part she would ever allow him to see.
“Of course,” she answered softly. “I was drunk. It didn’t mean anything.”
His eyes tightened, and he took a step closer. “It meant something to—”
The doorbell rang.
Finally, some beneficial cosmic timing.
She silently composed herself as she made her way to the door, pulling it open with her best approximation of a carefree expression. “Hey, good morning.”
“Darling!” Sherry swooped into the room with a tray of coffee to once again supplement the coffee they were already having in lieu of breakfast. “Other darling!” She greeted Cameron with air kisses and a pantomime hug as her hands were full. “He’s been promoted to darling,” she told Brie, handing off a mocha.
Brie took a deep breath, forcing herself past it. “Whatever did he do to deserve such an honor?”
“You mean besides winning the Dartiest Dart Who Ever Darted award at the bar and inflating that poor cook’s ego to roughly the size of Miami for making a series of extremely standard cheeseburgers? Well, I’ll tell you. This little honey of a specimen returned our car this morning before we even woke up, saving myself and Mike a heap of inconvenience.”
Sherry shot Cameron a look of grand appreciation and handed over a latte. “Hence, coffee. The elixir of gratitude. May the heavens ever smile upon you.”
He accepted it. “And also on you.”
Their cups knocked lightly together.
“Cheers,” Sherry said brightly. “Your kitchen is on fire, by the way.”
He turned back to the stove with a muffled gasp, first raising his palms to the flames before realizing that whatever he’d planned to do would not be possible in Sherry’s presence. Instead, he slapped at the fire with the edge of a dish towel.
Brie wandered up beside him, ironically finding this to be the most normal part of her day. “When did you get the cars?”
“Oh, you were asleep,” he admitted, tossing the towel in the sink. She raised an eyebrow, thinking of her own magically returned car, and the two shared a secret grin.
“Let me be the first to say that’s a rather bold apron,” Sherry said conversationally, settling herself down at the counter. “If I’d known you had a penchant for… Brie, is that your phone?”
Cameron blanched and swiftly angled his body in front of the pathetic remains. “I had a bit of a mishap. I intend to take care of it while Brianna is at work.”
Sherry surveyed the damage dubiously. “Good luck with that, cowboy. Unless you have a spot of magic up your sleeve, I’m afraid that phone is dead.”
Brie had focused on a different detail. “So, you’ll be here when I get back?”
He softened. “Yes. I shouldn’t be long.”
Sherry turned, surprised. “Where are you off to?”
“I need to visit my family. We have some important things to discuss.”
Sherry’s intrigue was piqued, but Brie wasn’t ready to field her questions with yet another series of deflections and half-truths. “Sweetie, we really need to get going. If I’m late, I don’t think Denise is above skinning me alive to set an example.”
“That’s a fair point.”
Sherry rushed out the door. The other two stood awkwardly in front of each other. At one point, both considered going in for a hug, but in the end, they opted to simply wave an excruciatingly awkward goodbye from two paces apart.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he said quietly.
Brie nodded and moved to head out the door before turning back for a moment. “Promise me something?”
He glanced up quickly. “Anything.”
She held his gaze. “Don’t try to cook.”
? ? ?
“Coming through!”
A nurse with fiery red hair flew past on a gurney pushed by two EMTs, straddling an incoming trauma victim and doing chest compressions. They disappeared into a room just as a mother and her six children walked through the bay doors.
One had a fork sticking out of his upper shoulder. He screamed through his sobs, “Jacob is gonna be so grounded. Grounded forever!” The other kids appeared to be placing bets on the injured child’s chances of survival while the poor mom struggled to maintain her grip on sanity. A trio of teenagers followed them, the middle one hobbling with his foot bent at a horrifying angle, flanked and supported by his skateboard-wielding friends.
It was going to be a long day.
Sherry and Brie each took a deep breath before the storm, gave each other a discreet fist bump, and walked off in opposite directions.
Denise was waiting for her by the nurses’ station, arms crossed over her chest, back straight as a redwood tree. “You’re late.”
Brie looked at the clock. “No, I’m—”
“You’re on time, which means you’re late until your orientation is over. Come with me.”
Brie stashed her backpack and followed.
She was starting to recognize some faces from the day before. There was Chris, the newbie who scarcely looked old enough to have his learner’s permit, let alone start an IV. Without being told, he made a beeline for the mother of six and started telling the kids a story about his “crazy Aunt Penelope and her runaway cow” so their put-upon mother could complete the intake forms and take care of her wounded son. Brie caught his eye, and he winked. She realized with a grin that Aunt Penelope didn’t exist. She was just an imaginative way to show some kindness.
She followed Denise into a room that housed the trio of skateboarding teenagers.
“Do you have to call my mom?” the injured one asked.
The waiflike nurse from the ambulance code the other day was already in there, taking a history and fielding the underage dolt’s questions.
Cindy. I think that’s her name.
“Yes, Kevin. Otherwise, she might come storming in here with a slew of very valid questions as to why we performed X-rays, ran lab tests, and conducted a reconstructive surgery on her underage son before putting him in a cast and charging her thousands of dollars. Not to mention, it hasn’t escaped my notice that it’s a school day, and you might have somewhere else you’re supposed to be.”
The three friends glanced at each other and shuffled around, looking for all the world like toddlers caught with their hands in a cookie jar.
Cindy leaned closer and narrowed her eyes. “So, are you going to give me her cell phone number,” she asked dangerously, “or should I just call your school and start from there?”
Kevin unlocked his cell phone and handed it over with a sigh, wincing in pain as one of his friends accidentally jostled his foot.
Denise observed as Brie took the boy’s medical history, a process that Cindy would repeat with his mother after she arrived. They scheduled an X-ray and prepped him for the procedure.
When they’d finished and walked back to the nurses’ station, Cindy shot Brie a look and abruptly said, “You were the one who stood up to Matthews the other day on the code.”
Brie looked up, startled. “I wasn’t… I was just surprised. I wasn’t trying to—”
“I’m glad you said something.”
The two women shared a friendly glance and continued walking.
“Where do you stand on Dr. Matthews?” Brie asked hesitantly.
Cindy responded without missing a beat. “On his neck, if at all possible.”
Denise snorted with what was presumably a hard laugh and kept walking.
Brie shot Cindy a grin. “Oh, we’re going to get along just fine.”
“Weldon. With me,” barked Denise.
They parted ways with Cindy and stepped into another room. Brie assisted with a chest tube insertion as Denise watched. Despite all the caffeine and sleep deprivation, her hands remained steady. She even earned a curt nod of approval from El Commandant once again.
Twice in two days. Don’t get cocky, Brie, but you’re doing alright.
By the time her lunch break rolled around, she felt as though she’d run a marathon. Again.
“Can you multitask?” asked Denise, breaking into her thoughts.
“Can I — yes, I can multitask.”
“Good. Go get food. Come back here. Eat while working.”
Denise whipped out her cell phone and walked off without a backward glance. There was an economy to her every aspect and motion. She didn’t mince words. She didn’t even mince syllables. Everything about her was an excellent example of competence and efficiency.
Like a perfect machine.
Like the Terminator.
A little shiver raced over Brie’s shoulders, but she shook it off before quickly making her way down to the cafeteria. Her job might be a swirling mess of exhaustive chaos with high stakes and no end in sight, but today, she was grateful for the turmoil. It was keeping her mind off Cameron and how his little family reunion might be playing out.
As she worked her way through the line, absentmindedly choosing a salad, vegetable soup, and a lemonade to counterbalance the booze and junk food fest from last night, her mind started running through some unwanted scenarios.
What if he gets in huge trouble for saving me? What would that even look like? Would they excommunicate him, like they do in the Catholic Church? That’s a Catholic thing, right? But don’t Catholics also have some kind of way to make amends? Like you count prayer beads and say “Our Fathers” and drink Bloody Marys?
Wait, that can’t be right…
She paid at the commissary, remembering at the last minute to grab Rashida a chai latte and herself a cappuccino. Then she stopped by the morgue on her way back up to Denise.
Rashida opened the door on the second knock.
“As promised.” Brie held out the chai.
“Thank you!” the woman accepted happily. “No handsome escort today?”
“Not today, I’m afraid,” Brie replied, “and I can’t stay. Denise has me multitasking.”
“Ah, I see. Well, if you want to come here after your shift to chart and hang out, just let me know. I’ll be around. I have a bunch of cases to catch up on myself.”
“Oh, no. Busy day down here?”
“Bizarre. I’ll tell you later. You’d better get back to El Commandant before she—”
“Skins me alive to make an example of me?”
“Precisely.”
Brie grinned and started back towards the elevator. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you later.”
Denise picked up another stack of files at the nurses’ station, then turned and walked to an unused conference room. Brie followed and settled into one of the chairs at the giant table as Denise walked to the television that loomed over the room and started setting up a video.
“You completed your BLS and ACLS back in Georgia?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How did you do?”
“Full marks.”
“It’s in your file?”
“It is.”
“You completed the online orientation last week, correct?”
“Correct.”
Denise held up two DVDs. “You need to watch this video about hospital policies and this one from HR about how to not be a racist idiot. Come find me afterward, and we’ll start checking skills off your list.”
She inserted one disc and pressed play, then turned on her heel, clicked off the lights, and left Brie in the darkened room.
Brie stared at the screen as a chipper, forty-something brunette in office wear, walked past the enormous brick facade of the hospital. “Welcome to Daya Memorial Hospital,” she said with a saccharine smile. “Congratulations on becoming a part of our team. Today, we will explore the policies and procedures that will ensure a safe and productive working environment.”
Brie had always been a conscientious student, a habit that wasn’t about to stop now. She took a journal and pen from her backpack and started taking notes while sporadically eating her lunch.
An hour later, the video finally showed signs of winding down.
Brie’s hand was cramped, and her back was seizing up. She wished she’d been telling the truth yesterday, and she did know some magical yoga move to relax her back and limbic system.
“Thank you for your attention, and welcome to the Daya Memorial family.”
Thank the gods.
She stood and stretched her arms as high as she could, interlacing her fingers and spinning side to side at her waist to release her spine. When she was finished, she threw away the remains of her lunch and put her notes in her backpack before taking the DVD out of the player. She was about to insert the next one when it slipped from her fingers and rolled under the conference table.
“Typical,” she muttered and got down on all fours to look for it.
It was all the way at the other end. Sighing and thanking her stars that this was at least a private moment of disgrace, she crawled under the table to retrieve it.
That’s when the door opened, and the lights clicked on.
She froze in a moment of mindless panic, then jumped in her skin.
“This isn’t what I agreed to.”
Her heart stopped, then started beating double time. It had only been a day, but she’d recognize that oily, weaselly voice anywhere. Dr. Matthews.
Before she could even register her dismay or choose to reveal herself, the sound of high heels clicked into the room, followed by a silken female voice. “It’s adorable that you think you’re in any position to dictate terms.”
“This is a child. There are limits—”
The woman laughed. The sound of it chilled Brie to her core. It was like someone playing a xylophone made of bones. Even its softness was dangerous and predatory. Her shoes clicked closer to Dr. Matthews as she continued with low, unconcerned menace.
“What delicate sensibilities you have. What irrelevant distinctions. You’ll do this, but not that. Him, but not her. As though the specifics in any way affect the bottom line. As if any degree of rationalization will change what you’ve chosen to become.”
Brie looked up and saw the reflection of their profiles on the darkened television. The woman was blonde and beautiful in a way that was obvious, even in the blurred dark mirroring of the screen. Something about her seemed terrifyingly familiar.
Matthews was shaking with fear. A drop of sweat dripped from his head and hit the ground with a soft plunk. But it seemed he wasn’t done just yet. “I’ll be no good to you if I’m caught.”
The woman smiled, or more accurately, showed her teeth. “My dear Jonathan, please do not suffer under the misapprehension that you are in any way indispensable. Now, will you collect what I asked for, or do you require another demonstration?”
Something in the air went wrong, like a spike in the ozone when lightning strikes, but foul, cold, and biting. On the television screen, the woman’s reflection started to distort and elongate until it scarcely resembled a woman at all. Her heels clicked on the floor as she moved closer to Matthews, but then the sound changed — changed to something heavier, less delicate.
Brie turned her head with a silent gasp.
Are those—?
Just for a moment, she could swear she caught a glimpse of giant, black, cloven hooves. It was like a single frame in a fast-paced movie. By the time she blinked, it was already gone.
“No!” Matthews cried. “It isn’t necessary. I’ll get you what you asked for. Please, just stop!”
Brie rubbed her eyes and stared hard at the woman’s shoes. Ice-white skin sheathed in expensive-looking black leather. She looked at the television — a chillingly beautiful blonde.
What the hell is going on?
“Good,” said the woman brightly, handing Matthews a heavy-looking and oddly shaped black briefcase. “I’ll be here on the appointed day to collect. You know how to get in touch.”
She turned on her heel and left.
Dr. Matthews stayed another minute, breathing hard, trying to collect himself. Then, he turned off the light and left, shutting the door behind him, leaving Brie huddled beneath the table.
That’s when she noticed her necklace was glowing.