Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
JORDAN
“What are you up to tonight?” Lucas asks me as we walk into the locker room together. I glance over at him, marveling at the fact that even after I’ve kept him and everyone else at arm’s length for the past two years, he still makes an effort with me every single day. I really should be more grateful for it.
“I’m going to that swing dancing thing at Lincoln Center.”
Lucas stops in his tracks, staring at me. “You’re fucking with me.”
I open my locker, shrugging off my white coat and hanging it inside. “I’m not.”
“That is, like, the very last place I would expect you to be.”
I shrug. “A friend wants to go, so I’m going with her.”
“Her, huh?” Lucas flashes me a grin, and I shake my head, turning to my locker.
“It’s not like that,” I mutter.
“But you want it to be.”
I turn, giving him an incredulous look. “How could you possibly know that?”
“I just see what I see.”
I blow out a breath, wondering why I have the sudden urge to unload all my confusing feelings about Jo onto a coworker who is a veritable stranger. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
Lucas gives me a sympathetic look. “Look man, I know you lost your fiancée a couple of years ago, and that’s part of the reason you’ve kept us all at a distance, but if you ever need someone to talk to, you can talk to me.”
“Thank you,” I say sincerely. “I appreciate it.” The old me would have taken him up on his offer and gone to get a beer, talking about anything and everything. The me I was a few months ago would have just grunted something and mostly tried to pretend the conversation wasn’t happening. The me of today can appreciate the offer, even though I know I won’t take him up on it. I think that’s progress.
I grab my phone from the top shelf of my locker, already anticipating the string of messages from Jo. Even though she knows I rarely, if ever, have time to check my phone during the day, she still messages me all day with everything from pictures of her snacks, funny little stories about things that go on in the museum, and a running tally of how many Fireballs she eats. They’re fun to see when I’m done working. I like that she takes me along on her day, even though I’m not physically with her.
I click on my phone and navigate to my messages, bypassing the group chats with my brothers and my friends, but when I get to my messages with Jo, the last messages are the ones from this morning about our plans for tonight.
“What the fuck?” I mumble, as unease takes over. I take a deep breath and force myself to stay calm, hitting Jo’s contact to call her. With every ring, my unease deepens, and by the time I get her voicemail and then call her again with the same result, unease has turned to full blown worry. Jo always messages. And she never, ever doesn’t pick up her phone.
“Everything okay?” Lucas asks.
I take a long, slow breath and let it out to try and calm my sparking nerves and glance up at him. “It’s probably nothing. That friend I’m supposed to meet didn’t text me like she usually does, and she’s not picking up her phone. It’s unlike her, is all. I’m going to head to her apartment to check on her.”
Lucas nods. “You have my number, right?”
I think back and remember he gave it to me once when I first started. I’ve never used it. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do.”
“Text or call if you need anything.”
My stomach clenches at his words, ones eerily similar to the words my old friend Owen said to me as he left me alone in the doctors’ lounge with Molly when she came to tell me that Allie was gone. All I can do is give a jerky nod and mumble, “Thanks.”
I don’t bother changing out of my scrubs. Instead, I just grab my bag and head straight to the door with my phone in my hand. Lucas calls out a goodbye as I leave, and I just wave a hand in his direction, my brain already focused on getting out of the hospital and to Jo’s apartment.
Five minutes later, I’m in a cab heading uptown, dialing Jo’s number again, but she still doesn’t pick up. It occurs to me that I’m having an outsized reaction to something that is probably nothing. Jo is a grown woman with a big job and shit to do that doesn’t always involve me. But losing Allie fucked my brain up, and it’s now racing with a million worst case scenarios as my stomach churns with anxiety.
I can’t lose her too.
When the cab pulls up in front of Jo’s apartment, I practically toss a twenty-dollar bill at the driver and shoot out of the car. Someone is coming out as I reach the front door, so I slip in and straight up the stairs, my brain chanting she’s fine over and over again, trying to make the rest of me believe it.
* * *
I’m knocking on Jo’s door before both of my feet are even on the landing outside her apartment. My heart is pounding in my ears as I wait for her to answer. When she doesn’t, I knock again, louder this time, and listen with my ear practically pressed to the door. For a few beats it’s silent, and then I hear it.
A deep, raspy cough sounds from inside her apartment, and before my brain even engages, I’m twisting the door handle, relieved to find it unlocked so I can get in and also hating that it’s unlocked because if I can get in, so could anyone else.
Kicking the door shut, I glance down and see Jo’s bag on the floor, her phone slipping out like she dropped it as soon as she came in. Another loud cough propels me straight down the hall and into her bedroom. The early evening sunlight streams through the windows, giving me a clear view of Jo lying diagonally across her bed on top of the covers, fully dressed, shoes and all.
Her deep breathing tells me she’s asleep, but I can hear her wheezing from the doorway, and it has my heart in my throat. I’m beside her in two strides. Dropping down on the edge of the bed, I feel the heat radiating off of her even as her body trembles and a thin sheen of sweat covers her forehead. I know before I lay my hand on her forehead what I’m going to find.
She has a fever, and it’s very, very high.
I stroke the back of my hand down Jo’s cheek, running my thumb over the circles under her eyes, my anxiety spiking as she moans in her sleep and lets out another deep, wet cough. I try as hard as I can to snap into doctor mode, but I can’t get there. Not when Jo’s small frame shakes like she’s freezing and her lungs rattle like every breath is a chore.
I am literally trained to heal, but right now, when the person I suddenly realize I care about more than anyone else in the world needs me to do exactly that, I feel as helpless as the parents praying to whatever god they believe in while they wait for me to come out of the operating room and tell them their child is okay.
“Get your shit together, Jordan,” I mutter.
Jo needs me right now, and I will absolutely not let her down.
Taking a deep breath, I stand and go into the bathroom. Rummaging around in the medicine cabinet and drawers, I find ten bottles of nail polish in various neon colors, a tube of cinnamon toothpaste, seven hair scrunchies, and enough skin care to open a Sephora, but nothing else. I try the kitchen cabinets, and there’s nothing there either.
Heading back to the bathroom, I wet a washcloth with cool water and set it on the nightstand, reaching down to untie Jo’s shoes and slip them off her feet. She’s still wearing her work clothes and a sweatshirt that says Game of Bones, which would make me laugh if Jo’s breaths weren’t labored and her fever wasn’t so high that she sweated through her clothes.
Crossing the room to her dresser, I open drawers at random until I find a stack of pajamas and pull out the ones covered in donuts that Jo brought to my house for movie night. As carefully as I can, I slide on the pants and then pull down the skirt she’s wearing. Then I tug off her sweatshirt and T-shirt and slide the pajama shirt over her head.
If I was in a different frame of mind, I might consider the fact that Jo wasn’t wearing a bra. I might wonder whether she goes braless to work every day, and my dick might have a thing or two to say about that. But right now, more of me is worried that Jo barely even stirred as I changed her clothes, and aside from shifting just a little and coughing again, she doesn’t wake up as I maneuver her so she’s under the covers with her head on the pillow.
Laying the cool washcloth across Jo’s forehead, I tug my phone out of my pocket and navigate to my contacts. Pulling up Lucas’s number, I hesitate, feeling weird about asking him for a favor when I’ve kept him at arm’s length for the last two years. But then Jo coughs again, her lungs rattling, and I’m texting as fast as my fingers can move.
Me
Hey, man, I’m sorry to ask, but I was hoping you might be able to do me a favor.
Lucas
Of course, what’s up?
Me
Are you still at the hospital?
Lucas
Yep, leaving in a few.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I explain what’s going on, then shoot him a list of things I need and Jo’s address, and he promises to bring it all up within the hour.
I’ve barely set my phone on the nightstand when it rings, Elliot’s name flashing on the screen. With my eyes glued to Jo’s sleeping form, I slide my thumb across the screen to answer.
“Hey, El.”
“What’s wrong?” he asks, easily picking up on the stress in my voice.
I sigh, my anxiety too high right now to do anything but tell him exactly what’s going on. “I’m at Jo’s apartment. She’s sick. Really sick.”
“Sick with what?” His voice is immediately concerned.
“I don’t know yet. We had plans tonight, but she didn’t text me all day like she usually does, and then when I called her, she didn’t answer her phone. I got worried, so I came to her apartment and found her asleep. She’s burning up and has a bad cough and her lungs sound like shit. Someone I know from the hospital is bringing some stuff over for me so I can figure out what she has and try to bring her fever down and help her breathing, but I don’t…I mean, I can’t…” I break off as my voice catches.
“Jordan.”
I suck in a breath, trying to pull myself together. “Yeah.”
“You’re a doctor. A whole ass surgeon.”
“So?”
“Where are you right now?”
“In Jo’s room. She’s still sleeping. I don’t want to wake her, but I also don’t want to leave her, so I’m sitting on her bed.”
“Good. Look at her and be a doctor right now. What do you think is going on?”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, my eyes glued to Jo. She stirs a little, coughing again. “I think she has the flu, but I won’t know for sure until I test her. It’s unusual to get the flu in the summer, but it happens, and she works with kids all the time. They’re, like, vectors for this shit.”
“And in your many, many medical school classes and years of being an actual doctor, did you ever learn how to treat the flu?”
“Fuck off. Of course I know how to treat the flu.”
“So why are you so freaked out by Jo being sick?” My brother’s voice is gentle, and it breaks me open, just enough for all my defenses to fall.
“I just…I need her to be okay.” My voice is low, almost a whisper, as I struggle to keep my emotions under control.
“You like her. Like, really, more than a friend like her.” Elliot’s matter-of-fact words hit me right in the chest, and my defenses are low enough that I can’t do anything but give voice to the thoughts that have been circling in my brain since I talked to Allie at the cemetery last week and saw the note Jo left for her.
“I do. I really, really like her. She’s my best friend, and she’s also…more. So, so much more. It scares the fuck out of me, El.”
“I know it does, and that’s okay. I’m going to say some things now, and I want you to really listen. Can you?”
“Shit,” I mutter, knowing Elliot is about to do the thing he does where he drops all the truths and he’s right about everything. “Yeah.”
“Losing someone you love the way you lost Allie leaves scars that don’t fade all the way. You’ll never be who you were before she died. You may think we don’t understand that, but we do. All of us, and we’re here for you. But it’s okay to have feelings for someone who isn’t Allie, and it’s okay if it feels weird and a little uncomfortable. But don’t run away from those feelings because you’re scared. You’re different this summer, in the best way. You seem lighter. Happier than you’ve been since Allie died, and I think it’s because of Jo. Talk to her when she feels better. She deserves to know where your head’s at, and from even the little you’ve told us about her, I think she’ll understand. I think she’s yours, and you know better than anyone that life’s too damn short not to tell the people you care about how you feel. You deserve to be happy, Jord. We love you, and we all want that for you.”
“Thanks, El,” I manage, clearing my throat in a futile attempt to staunch my rising emotion.
“Always. Will you stay in touch? Let me know how she is?”
“I will,” I promise.
“And when she feels better, bring her to Boston. If Jo is important to you, she’s important to us too. Mom’s birthday is coming up. She’ll freak out if you come for it. In the good way.”
I roll that around in my brain for a few seconds, and for the first time in two years, the idea of going to Boston is appealing, rather than overwhelming, if Jo is there with me. I think maybe I could do anything, as long as I have her with me. And that tells me everything I need to know.
“I think I’d like to bring her. But I think I need to have a conversation with her first.”
“Do that and be in touch.”
“I will. Thanks for the talk, El.”
“Always. Later, big brother.”
“Later.”
I hit end on the call and look down at Jo’s sleeping form. At the way her chestnut hair tumbles over the pillow in wild waves and her dark lashes fan across her cheeks. At her face flushed from her fever and the spray of freckles across her nose that scrunches when she laughs. At her full lips I live to see turned up in a grin, and fingers I like to feel threaded through mine when she’s pulling me towards whatever activity she dreamed up for us to do.
My anxious heartbeat calms as I take her in, and the rhythm it beats sounds a lot like mine .
Jo is mine.
I think maybe she has been all this time, and it’s as thrilling as it is terrifying, thinking of giving myself over to feelings like this for a second time in my life, when I live every day with the reminder of how the first time ended.
I reach out and wrap my hand around Jo’s wrist, feeling the comforting beat of her pulse against my palm. And I think maybe I don’t have to be quite so scared as long as I have her right here with me.