Chapter 19
Clarissa paused mid rock to open her eyes. Had she fallen asleep? Because Roan was walking toward her in his usual ‘not a surgery day’ button-down shirt, white coat, and dress pants.
A quick glance at Mindy told her she wasn’t hallucinating. Mindy was startled and stood partway up to both keep Roan from Cortland and read his badge. “Dr. Marin from anesthesia?”
He nodded and said, “I was stopping by to—”
Mindy turned back to Clarissa, who was trying to keep her face neutral. “Dr. Morgan, our anesthesia consult is here for Cortland’s pre-op eval. I thought they weren’t coming till the week of the surgery.”
“What a surprise,” Clarissa agreed, returning to her rocking.
“Anesthesiology consult?” Roan said, eyes darting between Mindy, Clarissa, and the baby.
“Yeah, this is Cortland Sabrowski. His gastroschisis surgery is planned for the end of the month. I didn't expect we'd get the chief,” Mindy said, and Roan wisely didn’t contradict her.
“I am the anesthesia chief.” Roan attempted to sidle past the nurse, only to be blocked by Mindy clearing her throat.
“Chief Marin, you must remove your white coat and scrub all the way up to your elbows for a full two minutes at the sink.” Mindy might have said it pleasantly, but the steel beneath her words made it clear she wasn’t going to let him come any closer. Clarissa bit her lip, trying not to laugh.
After Roan set his white coat on an empty chair and headed over to the nearby scrub sink, Mindy watched him like a hawk in a combination of professional interest and less-than-professional interest. “Wow. He’s the chief, and he didn’t grumble. Wow.”
Honestly, Clarissa was feeling the same way. He appeared so dashing and handsome, even polite and almost friendly. She was further warmed by knowing he had come down for no other reason than to see her on her birthday. They’d be together in the evening for the party, but that was hours away.
Even more, he had listened to her talk about her schedule enough to arrive in the window after rounds and before lecture. Perfect, hot, bad daddy boyfriend.
After appropriately scrubbing for the mandatory two minutes, he returned to the bedside, and Mindy directed him to hand sanitize, even though he hadn’t touched anything. Without complaint, he put on gloves and disinfected the otoscope and Cortland’s specific stethoscope from the counter.
As he made a show of listening to Cortland’s heart and lungs, his eyes wandered over Clarissa. She tried not to blush, because Mindy was equally interested in Roan.
“Are you the doctor taking care of this little guy?” Roan asked Clarissa for Mindy’s benefit.
“Yes, I’m Dr. Morgan, second-year pediatrics resident. He’s almost four months old with unrepaired gastroschisis and is planned for closure with Dr. Tiffany on April 29th.” Clarissa supplied the information that Roan would have already been aware of had he actually been in the NICU for a consult.
“Then I trust we don’t have to worry that he’ll remain NPO. He has a 24 gauge PICC line in his right antecubital?”
“That’s correct,” Mindy said, important since Clarissa hadn’t put the PICC line in, nor did she ever handle it.
“Good. Let me check his airway.” Clarissa used her pointer finger to push on Cortland’s chin, opening his mouth for the exam. Cortland resisted because he had never eaten anything by mouth and wasn’t sure what they were doing.
Roan shined the otoscope light inside while Cortland kept fighting against Clarissa’s hand. “Good enough. How did he do post-op the first time?”
“No issues except the repair failed,” Mindy said.
Clarissa let go of Cortland’s chin, and he started crying in confusion. She squeezed his toy, cycling to his favorite song, the ‘Got to Sleep’ lullaby. “Shh, it’s okay, Cort. Mr. Glowworm will make it all better.”
As she hummed along, she felt Roan’s gaze on her. Heat rose up her face, wondering what he was thinking.
“He likes this lullaby more than Frère Jacques,” Clarissa explained, unable to read Roan’s expression.
His eyes were darting from her to Cortland. “I’d expect so. It’s the Wiegenlied by Johannes Brahms, written with a secret melody for the birth of a son to his first love.”
“Holy... I mean, you are very knowledgeable, Chief Marin.” Mindy might have been on the verge of passing out, and Clarissa sharing that wavelength. Her ovaries were screaming all sorts of interesting thoughts about making babies with Roan.
“What does Wiegenlied mean?” Clarissa tried not to butcher the pronunciation.
“Lullaby in German. While music isn’t my forte, I had pretty eclectic reading choices in the ship’s library during my deployments,” Roan said, still focused on the two of them.
If Clarissa didn’t break the spell soon, she’d blurt out a bunch of insanity, so she tried to return to the medicine. “You should pass it onto his anesthesia team to help calm him.”
“Is he on the morning or evening schedule?” Mindy asked, back on topic.
“The schedule is always shifting, so I expect it to be a mid-morning to lunchtime OR time.” Roan disengaged and put the equipment back. “Glad he’s stable. Make sure he has a CBC and full set of CMP with LFTs the night before with an accurate weight.”
“We weigh him every day,” Mindy humphed, slightly affronted.
Recognizing that Roan was winding down this discussion, Clarissa said, “We better hook him back up now. I'm sorry, Cort. I'll see you in a few days.”
She set him gently in the crib as Roan retrieved his white coat and headed out of the NICU.
Mindy let out a long exhale after he disappeared out the doors. “That is hot. Strong, sexy, sensitive, and well-read Wow. None of the neos look like that. Where did they find him? A Navy recruitment magazine?”
Clarissa hid her grin at Mindy’s assessment of Roan’s sensitivity. “The gossip on OB about him was pretty similar.”
“Did they find out if he was single?” Mindy asked, still facing the closed doors. “What am I saying? He’s got to be taken.”
“Probably.” Clarissa was glad she didn’t get more questions about it, lest she spill the tea in her hormone/post-call/‘that boy is mine’ haze. She grabbed her stuff and made her exit. “I’d better go to lecture. See you later.”
Her strong, sensitive boyfriend was loitering by the staff elevators and greeted her with a smile. “Hey there, birthday girl.”
She grinned back. “So, you weren’t the surprise anesthesia consult?”
“No. I did a pediatric fellowship out of necessity. Got the skills, but I do more adults mostly when I’m doing cases these days.
Dr. Maug would be a good choice for him.
” He named one of the female anesthesiologists that Clarissa had supposed to have been assigned to when she was rotating through anesthesia.
“It was nice of you to come by to wish me happy birthday. I’ll see you tonight when you pick me up.” She went to push the up button but he caught her wrist. “What? Lecture is starting.”
“You’re not going to lecture. I’m kidnapping you,” he told her and pressed the down button.
“Aren’t you working?” She reexamined his clothing, which was his usual administrative uniform.
“I took a personal day,” he said. “We’re going home.”
Her heart jumped at the last sentence. Home wasn’t her rowhouse. Home was him. “Oh. Home. Together.”
“Yes, exactly. You’ll go to sleep, and when you wake up, we’ll have the party with your friends. I’ve got confirmations from Dr. Hernandez and her fiancé, Willow and Drew, and Dr. Molla and her husband.”
That explained part of Willow’s text. “I’m still shocked you’re breaking the rules like this. Sneaking into the NICU and convincing me to skip lecture.”
His brows drew together in annoyance. “I’m not the one breaking the rules.
You attended every single anesthesia lecture and essentially created your own continuing medical education sessions at your house for my residents.
Yet your program didn’t think it was important to give you appropriate days off call between your NICU and PICU rotations. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
Of course he was checking her schedule, even if she hadn’t said anything about it. “It’s not an hours violation. They aren’t on the same month.”
“Doesn’t make it right.” He crossed his arms, angry on her behalf.
“It’s okay.” She lay her hand on his wrist and whispered. “This pissed off big daddy energy is hot. I could make time for him before the party.”
“No. You are sleeping. After the party, you can renegotiate.” Roan took her coat and helped her put it on, zipping it up.
She twisted her lips to the side. “You sure? I’ve got to be back tomorrow at five-thirty a.m.”
“Yes, I’m sure. You need all the rest you can get with the infinite number of monitors and lines you’re monitoring.” He pressed the button again. “What’s taking so long?”
“Lunchtime,” she reminded him. “Not everyone has resident lectures. People actually eat at the cafeteria on purpose.”
“Shit. Right.” He paused like he was having an internal debate. “That baby was cute. You were good with him.”
“Cortland is my favorite. It’s frustrating the only thing I’m doing for him is holding him and singing the Wiegenlied.” Her eyes unexpectedly watered. “Shoot. Sorry. It’s not fair.”
“Clarissa. You are helping.” Roan reached up, leaning toward her, and brushed the tears away. Everything in his body language was asking to pull her into his arms. “You’re giving him love. He knows it.”
“Wow,” she echoed Mindy, trembling into his touch on her cheek.
There was a better than fifty percent chance she’d melt right here, or start a very MetroGen inappropriate makeout session in the elevator.
Had she told herself three months ago that her grumpy anesthesia chief had gone full boyfriend by redecorating his house, planning her birthday party, and saying all these lovely words, she’d have called a psych consult on herself.
But neither a makeout session nor a melting was to be, because the elevator binged, and Roan dropped his hand. Her mouth on his would be very postponed, since the elevator was full, and they had to crowd in to separate sides.
Still, she could feel his gaze on her, checking on her, making certain he knew where she was.
That decided her. Whatever it took, it would be worth it.
She had her own personal psych consult, and she could trust Willow to work her magic.
Clarissa: Roan’s taking me to his place to sleep. Do whatever you need to do. Don’t tell Simone.
Will: No worries. She has an overdeveloped sense of morality and won’t approve.
Clarissa: True. See you tonight. Fill me in then.
She put her phone away and stepped out of the elevator with the group. Before she could hunt for Roan, he was already at her side.
Then he held out his hand to hers without a word, his eyes searching her face.
Worth it.
She took his hand, and off they went.