Chapter 3
Harlow
I plop down in an empty seat and look up to see Shay coming in my direction with a huge grin on her face. She’s worked with me at the hospital for years. While I’m permanently located in the emergency room, Shay floats to any department that needs her. So when she’s working with me in the ER, it’s a real treat.
“What a great surprise, huh? And it’s air conditioned.” She beams.
“I know. I still haven’t recovered from the shock,” I reply, settling in for the unexpected ride as if we’ve been given limo service instead of an old school bus touched up for the sole purpose of getting employees on the job quicker.
I tap my lip with my fingertip, reflecting on the sign at the entrance to the small bus. Courtesy of Hightower Construction . Figures. It wasn’t the hospital administration thinking about us at all. It was likely the construction company. Working all day under the harsh Floridian sun, I’m certain their crew appreciates this small bit of generosity better than anyone. They’ve probably set this up for their other clients too, as a selling feature to gain new building contracts in the area. Well, whatever their motivation, they’re to be commended. It’s nice to see the hospital doing business with a company that cares.
The bus feels as if it’s barely picked up speed before it’s slowing down to let us off. The distance from the shuttle stop to the ER doors seems much shorter when you’re cool and comfortable.
“I almost want to ask the bus driver if he’ll make another loop before we have to get off.” Shay laughs as she stands from her seat.
Everyone gathers their belongings and exits the bus single file like a row of kindergarteners on their way to their first day of school. There’s a low hum of appreciation at our good fortune as we all head to our final destination. Once I step down, I’m surprised to find the driver hasn’t let us off at the front entrance, but across the street. Heck, I’m not complaining, just disoriented for a second. There’s probably a rule against blocking the flow of traffic.
Shielding my eyes, I instinctively peer up into the overpowering rays of the sun to see the rugged, hard hat hottie positioned on a platform a floor above me. As expected, he’s staring down at me with a toothy grin, his bronze skin glistening in the summer heat.
“He’s so freakin’ hot.” Shay moans beside me.
“Yeah.” I’m practically drooling at the sight. “Do you think if we accidentally broke something inside, they’d let him come in and fix it?”
“Gah. One could hope.” Shay giggles. “But then again, none of the nurses would get anything done.”
I watch as he lifts his bright yellow hat from his head long enough to run a large muscular hand through his dark blond hair, his smile never wavering.
Shay leans in to me and releases a heavy sigh. “I bet women just throw themselves at him wherever he goes.”
“Uh huh.” I breathe, biting into my lower lip as I picture him catching me when I do the same, all toned and tan, his pecs and abs on full display.
“You two better get a move on or you’re going to be late,” Gretchen says as she walks by. It’s at that moment I realize the van has made a second loop in the time we’ve been ogling this sexy specimen.
Curling my fingers in a short wave, I give him a coy smile as I make my way to the entrance doors. It’s fleeting, this exchange at the start of each shift. There are no obnoxious cat calls or whistles. Not from the guys working, nor from Shay and me. I laugh. It’s all in fun. Heck, he’s probably got a wife and kids. I’d never actually act on anything with him. But that brief greeting puts a spring in my step as I start my shift each day. And around here, much like the arrival of the shuttle bus, it’s a rare delight.
“Harlow, how do you like that? We can start the shift without needing to wring out our clothes first.” Sadie grins from the time clock as we approach to punch in and start work.
“She might still need to.” Shay gives me a playful nudge. “All buff and beautiful was giving her his usual welcome to work greeting.”
I can’t keep from smiling. “Yeah, he has about the same effect on me as that sweltering walk used to.”
The three of us head to the breakroom, where we begin each shift with a quick update from the charge nurse on expectations for the evening. Grabbing my lunch sack, I’m making my way to the fridge when I hear Tony snicker.
“Not sure why you bothered packing that. We’re so short staffed, there’s no one to cover lunch breaks.”
Gretchen clears her throat as she enters the room. “We may be short on nurses, but I’ll step in to let you try and have something to eat. No one clock out for dinner, because I won’t be able to manage covering your patients for a full thirty minutes. But I’ll see if we can get administration to pay for pizza so you can enjoy what you brought another time.”
“Good luck getting administration to pay for anything,” someone mutters from the back of the room.
“Well, they did provide an air-conditioned shuttle to and from the parking lot. They didn’t have to do that,” a female responds in a voice so hushed I could barely make out the words. But I’m certain after seeing that sign earlier, the hospital administrators had little to do with the van. Hopefully, pizza is a little more in line with their budget.
Gretchen reads a motivational quote before we start our evening, as is her norm, and we disperse to check where we’ve been assigned for the next eight hours.
“Yes!” Sadie squeals. “You’re with me in fast track, Har.”
Nice . I bounce on my toes. Eight hours working with Sadie, knowing cocktails are waiting for us at the finish line? I can handle this.
“Oh, please give me something for the pain,” the young blonde who’s sporting a wicked sunburn from head-to-toe groans just before, again, puking into an emesis basin. This scenario happens far too frequently here. Tourists in their early twenties come to visit the shores of Candy Cane Key, get smashed on cheap liquor, and then pass out under the merciless rays of the sun without fully appreciating the need to liberally re-apply sunblock.
“I’ve brought you some more nausea medication and some Tylenol.” I inject the Zofran into her IV, hoping this and the fluids will take the edge off of her poor life choices.
I say this without judgment. For I have no right to criticize. This na?ve girl will eventually shake off her hangover, her skin will heal, and she’ll be no worse for wear. Unlike me, whose life choices left her with unplanned pregnancies and not one, but two, shotgun weddings that barely lasted a year or two.
James “Jimmy” Potter swept me off of my feet at the tender age of twenty. Six years my senior, he came into my life like a hurricane, fast and furious. We met at a bar in town and quickly became inseparable. Tall, dark, and handsome, Jimmy’s still well-built and makes many a head turn. But his biggest asset with women is his charm. He’s a charismatic guy who’s mastered the art of pulling a girl in to his orbit. The problem is, once you’re there, he’s no longer interested in putting forth any effort to keep you.
I doubt Jimmy would’ve ever settled down had I not gotten pregnant. Yet while I was devastated that we’d been so careless, Jimmy took it all in stride. Granted, he was several years older, but I hadn’t thought him the type to want to settle down. Yet, he was quick to reassure me things would be okay. I’d planned to start nursing school in a few months, but he encouraged me to put things on hold until the baby was born. Jimmy worked as a plumber and felt confident we’d manage financially and wanted me to focus on motherhood. At least, that’s what he led me to believe.
It wasn’t until later I realized what he really wanted was for me to be at home, waiting on him like June Cleaver did in Leave it to Beaver for Ward and her boys. Except Ward was home for dinner every night. Not hanging out with the guys at the local pub or placing bets on random sports events at the Casino two towns over.
Once it became clear this wasn’t simply a passing fancy, I packed my bags and my infant and moved in with my mother until I could find a way to make a life for the two of us. However, as I quickly discovered, if you aren’t careful, life has a way of repeating itself.
Robert Pierce walked into my life much as my first husband had. He’d been visiting our quirky beach town during the Christmas in July festivities. He was a self-proclaimed jack of all trades, looking for a new place to call home. He said he wanted to make an honest wage and spend his weekends on the beach, fishing and enjoying all that the Florida Keys life had to offer. Rob regaled stories of his work, from Hazmat technician to roof inspector. After a few too many Mistletoe Margaritas, we were paired in the Santa sack race and, well, you know where this is going.
Unlike Rob’s work ethic, his super swimmers were overachievers. Despite birth control and a condom, it wasn’t long before I found out I was pregnant and got married once again. I’m not sure what had me believing this time would be different. I mean, at least Jimmy had a steady income with his plumbing business. Even if he tended to gamble it all away.
Rob spent as much time unemployed as working. And some of his occupations paid little more than minimum wage. When it became clear I’d married a carbon copy of Dear old Dad, I packed my things, gathered up my little ones, and contacted a divorce attorney.
I’m not making excuses for my poor decisions. Looking back, I’m certain my unplanned pregnancies were fated. I couldn’t have asked for better boys. If the only way they were meant to come into my life was via Jimmy and Rob, so be it. And as the years have gone by, I find my exes to be more tolerable. So long as we aren’t living under the same roof.
“The countdown is on!” Sadie squeals. “Thirty minutes ’til we can get the drinks flowing.”
“Oh, where are we going?” Shay asks, giving me jazz hands. “You bitches aren’t allowed to leave me in the dust. We’re the three amigos, three of a kind, the trinity of awesomeness.” She laughs. “I still have my hat in the car.”
“Me too.” Sadie claps. The last time the three of us scheduled a girls’ night, Shay ordered baseball caps for each of us. Her hat said I’ll Bring the Bad Decisions , Shay’s said I’ll Bring the Alcohol , and mine was embossed with I’ll Bring the Getaway Car .
“Of course you’re coming with us. We didn’t know you’d be working with us in the ER tonight. That’s all. And it’s been so busy, I barely came up for air or I would’ve told you.”
“God, the next time I help out down here when you’re this short staffed, I need to give myself a Foley catheter. I think I held my bladder for almost two hours before I could make a run for it.”
“I know. It’s a wonder we don’t all have urinary tract infections working here,” I add.
“Well, the best way to treat one of those is to irrigate,” Sadie says, her eyes bright with mischief.
“I don’t think vodka counts,” I blurt.
Gretchen lightly grabs my upper arm to gain my attention. “Harlow, can you help Tony move a patient to the ICU?” I don’t know how she juggles all of this. She manages to let all of us have a few moments to choke down a slice of pizza and continually puts out the usual fires. Call bells constantly ringing, phone calls from family members and pharmacies, and EMS contacting us to advise of incoming patients. Every time someone asks if I’m interested in taking on a similar role, I quickly shake my head. My job is tough enough.
“Sure. I’m on it. I’ll meet you girls at the time clock in thirty.”
“Cheers!” the three of us chant as we clink our cocktails together in the center of the table. Short staffed or not, we managed to bolt out of the ER and jump on that sweet little shuttle to our cars in record time.
“Okay, ladies. We need to decide who the designated driver is before we order another round. Because there’s only one Uber driver in this one-horse town and the last time I got a ride home with him, I almost died.”
“Barnacle Bob is that bad a driver?” I ask Shay, surprised by this little bit of intel. He’s been the only reliable taxi driver in Candy Cane Key for as long as I can remember. He’s practically 100 years old, but added Uber and Lyft stickers to the back of his old jalopy to impress the tourists. Like that would make it more appealing.
“No. He’d just had Mongolian beef right before picking me up and apologized that it made him gassy. Between too many Dirty Shirleys and his exhaust fumes, I thought I’d die before I got to my house.”
I quickly dodge the spray of Key Lime Mojito flying from Sadie’s mouth as she laughs out loud, and I raise my hand for our server.
“What can I get ya?”
“Can I get a round of Dirty Shirleys next? Except make one of them a Shirley Temple and don’t tell us which is which until we drink.”
“You got it, Harlow.”
“Oh, nice call, babe. I like that better than the last game.” Shay giggles. The reminder causing me to guffaw.
The three of us had basically played a game of Two Truths and a Lie. I’d listed two God’s honest jobs that Rob had held back in the day and one that was a lie. If either of them could guess the lie, I’d be the designated driver for the evening. I laugh as I recall watching Shay and Sadie battle it out between them, shocked to find my ex-husband had worked at everything from a junk removal specialist to a parking lot attendant, then briefly as a squirt gun operator. What the hell job is that? Sadie had cackled. An industrial window cleaner. I’d snorted. But they were all better than professional couch potato. I think he still returns to that job more often than not.
“Here you go, girls,” the server says with a saucy grin as she slides our drinks onto the table.
Shay leans forward and Sadie swiftly smacks her on the upper arm. “No cheating, you sneaky wench. I bet that shrewd nose could sniff out a pint of vodka from fifty paces.”
“Okay, on the count of three, grab your drink,” I announce. “One. Two. Three.”
The girls immediately grab the drinks closest to them, and I do the same. While my friends are too busy giggling to find out if their glass contains the mocktail, it’s instantly clear I’ll be driving everyone home with the first sip. And as much as I’d like to indulge a little tonight, it’s a good thing I have to stay clear-headed when I notice the stunned looks on my friends’ faces.
My face falls. “What?”
“Har. Isn’t that Stewart over there?” Sadie asks with a bit of trepidation.
I turn, excited at the prospect he may have decided to come find me to clean the cobwebs from my womb room when my mouth falls open in shock.