Chapter Eight
It was pub quiz night every second Tuesday of the month at McRory’s, and something Bethany looked forward to every time. What was pub quiz but yet another opportunity for her to show off her superiority and knowledge to all of her colleagues? Quiz night started six months ago as part of the hospital’s mental health initiative to encourage better work-life balance and prevent burnout. Her team, Doctors Without Mercy, were the reigning champs three months running and she was looking forward to continuing the streak.
Plus, McRory’s made a decent Guinness and shepherd’s pie. She always grabbed an extra pie to go so she didn’t have to worry about lunch and/or dinner the next day. Efficiency was the name of the game and totally The Bethany Way.
She flung open the door to McRory’s and searched the crowd for her team. Hopefully they’d grabbed their usual table. Bethany found them and grinned. Yep, they had. She threw up a hand to flag their attention as she made her way toward them.
Then she saw the Cardio Gods and tried not to roll her eyes. The cardio thoracic team was beyond insufferable, and she took extra pleasure in kicking their asses every month. Especially their co-captain sitting in the middle of the throng. Looking oddly spaced out and unfocused. Very unlike the fastidious, anal Dr. Wu. His friend, Dr. Laidlaw had poached him, so an exception had to be made to allow a member of the ER department to join the cardio team.
Bethany frowned. What was up with that? Then she gave herself a shake. It wasn’t her problem, and hell, if he was off his game, that could only help her team. Though those victory conditions didn’t sit well with her.
She made her way to her team, ordered her beer and fries, and chatted with her teammates before getting down to business.
The Doctors Without Mercy were doing well but it was down to the wire with the Cardio Gods. It all came down to the final round and when the quizmaster announced the category she wanted to groan.
“Classical music.”
Bethany threw a look at the Cardio Gods and barely stopped herself from making a face. There couldn’t have been a category better suited to hand victory over to Ethan’s team than this. No doubt he knew every composer in existence and had season tickets to the Metropolitan Opera. They were so screwed. She blew out a breath and sternly told herself to get her head back in the game. They were down, but not out.
Admitting defeat was not The Bethany Way. Better to go down fighting, even if it was an all-out flail, than give up. Even if Mozart was the only classical composer she knew, and her ballet and opera knowledge only extended to Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker because everyone was inundated by it every Christmas.
“Okay, you guys, let’s focus. We can do this.”
But throughout the round, Bethany couldn’t help glancing over at the Cardio Gods. Usually, she was hyper-focused but something about the way Ethan looked kept distracting her. Something didn’t feel right.
“Hey, Bethany!” To her chagrin, her teammate Dr. Hannah Meyer snapped her fingers in front of her face to get her attention. “Ghirardelli used an aria from this opera in their commercial. Any ideas?”
“Sorry, nothing’s coming to me,” she admitted. No matter how hard she racked her brain, total blank.
“Well at least I remember watching Amadeus in music class in high school so I know his supposed nemesis was Salieri,” Anthony Green muttered.
“I think Rent is an adaptation of La Bohème?” Tracey Swindon tossed out, though her tone was anything but confident. “Honestly, this is ridiculous. I was a biology major in college. I avoided humanities classes like the plague for a reason. The average person does not need to know this stuff. How is it at all useful in everyday life?”
Bethany couldn’t help but agree, even though Tracey’s attitude was definitely coming back to bite them in the collective ass.
“Put down Bach as the composer for The Four Seasons,” Wilson Grey suggested.
“Are you sure about that?” Bethany asked with a frown. In response, Wilson just shrugged. Giving up, she put Bach down.
She couldn’t help looking over at the Cardio Gods again. Ethan still seemed super disengaged, which made no sense as this category was tailor-made for him. He was just shaking his head or nodding. But back to the task at hand.
“Oh God, what is the name of that famous violin maker. Some Italian dude,” Bethany muttered, getting frustrated. “I bet Yo-Yo Ma has one.”
“Yo-Yo Ma plays the cello, not violin,” Hannah volunteered.
“Shut up.”
“Wait, wait!” Paul Watkins started waving his hands. “Quincy Jones did an arrangement of Handel’s ‘Hallelujah Chorus’. My mom played her Best of Quincy Jones record every weekend when she had us clean the house, I just remembered. Thank you, Mama!”
With fifteen seconds to spare, the team scrambled to come up with the remaining answers.
“Time!”
With a collective sigh, Doctors Without Mercy submitted their answers. This was way too close to call for Bethany’s liking. Truly could go either way. The Cardio Gods seemed equally anxious with one glaring exception. She frowned.
She really needed to get to the bottom of whatever the hell was going on there.
Five minutes later, quizmaster Dermot Finnegan finally put everyone out of their misery. “The winner tonight, with one hundred fifteen points and the biggest margin to date, is Doctors Without Mercy!”
Bethany cheered with her team, and she would definitely relish rubbing it in her opponents’ faces later. Paul was still giving thanks to his mother. At least Anthony and Hannah had stopped arguing about The Four Seasons.
“Second Place is the Cardio Gods who came in at ninety-seven.”
Wait, what?
“Hey, Bethany, I’m FaceTiming Mama. Say hi!”
Plastering on a requisite smile, Bethany waved to the phone screen. “Hi, Mrs. Watkins. Thanks for the assist.” Then she turned to find her target and approached him at his table.
“Here to gloat, Dr. Lee?” Ethan asked with an arched brow.
“Normally, yes but…”
“But…”
There was nothing for it but to just come out with it. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You should’ve swept that last category. There’s no way my team would have won unless something’s wrong. It sullies the win, so I want to know what’s wrong.”
He sat back down at the table and gave her a long, penetrating look. The silence stretched between them, and Bethany folded her arms in front of her chest. “Well, spill it. I have things to do, places to be, people to see.”
“Your concern is touching, truly.”
“Cut the sarcasm and grab that stick out of your ass—I’m looking for answers.” With an indignant huff, Bethany plopped down next to him, determined to wait him out until last call if that’s what it took.
Eventually, Ethan put his hands in his trouser jacket and took out his wallet and removed a picture.
Bethany pored over the black and white photo. An elderly woman, with the requisite Asian Grandma helmet of teased curls, standing next to what appeared to be little boy Ethan, her hand on his shoulders. They were posing in front of the National Palace Museum in Taipei, where his family was from. She remembered overhearing him mention that at the mixer the day they’d met. And for some reason that fact had stuck in her head.
Grandma was smiling but little Ethan had a familiar scowl on his face. She couldn’t ignore the cuteness.
“Nice pic,” she offered. “Though I gotta admit I’m with Baby Ethan. Museums aren’t really my scene.”
“I’ve learned the error of my ways. I was barely eight at the time. I love museums now.”
Of course. The man could probably spend a week at the Met and not get bored, though to her that would be the equivalent of hell on earth.
“Anyway, this is my grandmother. Today’s her birthday and I’m missing it.”
Immediately, she couldn’t help but soften. “You can still call her. I bet she’d be thrilled to hear from you.”
He shook his head. “It just isn’t the same. Over the screen isn’t as good as seeing her in person. I started thinking about the cake we’d have every year on her birthday, going out to her favorite restaurant. I’ve broken the tradition.”
“I’m sure she understands.”
“That isn’t the point. I suppose I started going down memory lane and feeling a bit homesick.” He looked sheepish.
Damn the man for making it harder to dislike him and simply see him as the enemy. “It’s natural. You are a long way from home.” She really was in no position to judge. The farthest she’d ever lived from Brooklyn was the four years she’d spent in Baltimore at Johns Hopkins for med school. But two-hundred-some odd miles and a mere three-and-a-half-hour Amtrak ride was nothing compared to uprooting your whole life and moving halfway around the world—literally. That deserved some respect at the very least.
Why was he determined to make her like him? Why did he have to make it so hard to hate him?
“Don’t get me wrong, I love being in New York, but sometimes it’s…difficult not having family nearby.” He gave a short laugh and rueful shake of his head. “I can’t believe I just said that in front of you.”
“I asked, and besides, no one says no to me for long. I usually end up getting what I want, one way or another. So, if it makes you feel better, you can just tell yourself you really had no choice.”
“Oddly enough I feel better now.”
Bethany cocked her head and gave him a considering look. “Well, I’m sorry you’re homesick but other than that I’m glad you’re all right.” She glanced at her watch and winced. “Now I gotta go. I’ll see you at the hospital.” She saw the look on his face and rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Consider this a freebie. I don’t give those often.” She paused. “Besides, it’s good to know you’re human like the rest of us and capable of succumbing to something as mundane as homesickness. And just feelings in general. Huh. Maybe we’re even after all.”
With that, Bethany tossed her hair over her shoulder, waved a cheeky goodbye, and left.