16. The Sullivans
The Sullivans
NORA
It took me a while to figure out that Knox was different around other people than he was with me.
Around the guys, he was more restrained.
Stoic, quiet, a little closed off. He said what needed to be said and kept the rest to himself.
With me, he was more open. He told me his birthday when I asked.
He showed me a photograph of his brother that he kept inside his helmet liner and told me he'd never shown it to anyone else.
I wasn't sure yet whether that was a good thing or a terrifying one.
"Avery. Bay nine."
I looked up. Harlan was at the workstation with a chart in his hand. "Bay nine's imaging came back. No fracture. Splint the wrist, give her the discharge instructions, and send her home."
"Got it."
He moved on to the next bay. I pulled up the chart and started documenting.
When I looked up from the screen, Liz and Jen were at the nurses' station across the floor. Both of them were looking at me. Liz turned away first. Jen followed a second later.
I went back to my chart.
Liz and Jen were on the bench in the locker room when I walked in after shift, mid-conversation. They went quiet when they saw me.
I went to my locker and started changing. Behind me, the silence held for a few seconds before Jen pushed her chair back.
"I'll go on ahead," Jen said. "See you tomorrow."
She left without looking at me. Liz took her time. She checked her phone, zipped her bag. Then she walked out past my locker without a word.
The door closed behind her. I pulled my scrub top over my head and reached for my T-shirt.
Gracelyn came in a minute later, still in her scrubs, her badge swinging from the lanyard.
"Good shift today." She opened her locker two down from mine. "You handled that wrist case well. Harlan noticed."
"Thanks."
"So." She pulled her jacket out and closed the locker door. "You're meeting Knox's parents this weekend. Are you nervous?"
"I already know Dr. Sullivan." I smiled. "So I'm halfway there."
Gracelyn laughed. "That's one way to look at it."
"He's not exactly warm and fuzzy on the floor."
"Maybe he's different at home." She shrugged. "Some people are."
I doubted that. I still remembered how Knox and Cliff had spoken when Knox came to pick me up. No warmth at all between father and son. And Knox saying it's complicated and leaving it at that told me there was more to their relationship that he wasn't ready to talk about.
"If I were introducing you to my parents," Gracelyn said, "they would be delighted."
"Thank you, Gracelyn."
My phone buzzed in my locker.
KNOX
Outside.
"That's my ride." I grabbed my bag and closed the locker. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Have fun tonight." She waved me off. "And stop worrying."
Knox's truck was idling by the curb. I pulled the passenger door open, tossed my bag on the floor, and leaned across the console to kiss him.
"Hi," I said.
He put the truck in drive. "Crew's got family stuff tonight. So it's just us."
"Good."
He pulled out of the lot and turned onto the main road. I watched the streetlights pass for a while before I said it.
"I'm nervous about this weekend."
Knox nodded. "If it helps, I'm not looking forward to it either. But I can't keep ignoring my mother."
He reached over and took my hand. His thumb ran across my knuckles once, slow and steady.
"Thank you for coming with me," he said.
I squeezed his hand and held on for the rest of the drive.
The following Saturday, I stood in front of the mirror in the dress I'd bought that week. Black, fitted, hem just above the knee. I'd spent longer than I wanted to admit picking it out. Knox had mentioned once that his mother was formal, and the word had stayed with me like a warning.
I smoothed the fabric over my hips and looked at myself. I hoped it was enough.
Two honks from outside.
I grabbed my purse, locked the door behind me, and went down the steps to Knox's truck.
He was wearing a black blazer over a white dress shirt, open at the collar, with dark trousers and clean shoes.
His hair was pushed back, his jaw freshly shaved.
I had seen Knox in turnout gear, T-shirts, and nothing at all, but I had never seen him like this.
He looked like someone had taken the man I knew and sharpened every edge.
I wanted to climb across the console and skip dinner entirely.
I climbed into the truck and pulled the door shut behind me.
He smelled like cologne, something warm and clean that I'd never noticed on him before.
I leaned across the console, took the collar of his blazer in my hand, and kissed him.
His hand came up to my jaw and held me there, and I felt his mouth open against mine.
I kissed him harder. My fingers slid from his collar to the back of his neck, and for a few seconds I forgot we had somewhere to be.
"You look so handsome."
Knox kissed the side of my neck, just below my ear, and stayed there for a second.
"You look beautiful." He kept his hand on my knee. "Can we just stay in the truck?"
"You said you can't ignore your mother anymore."
He groaned and kissed me again. Then he put the truck in drive.
Summerlin looked like a different city. The streets were wide and quiet, lined with mature trees and stone-front houses set back behind manicured lawns.
Every property had landscaping that looked like someone was paid to maintain it.
Tall hedges, flower beds in bloom, driveways that could fit three cars without crowding. Nothing was out of place.
"This is where you grew up?"
Knox glanced at the houses passing his window. "Yeah."
"Must have been a really good childhood."
"Not really."
He pulled up in front of a two-story house with a stone facade and a wide front porch.
The lawn was pristine. Boxwood hedges ran along the walkway, trimmed level, and a pair of iron lanterns flanked the front door.
Everything about it looked like it had been chosen carefully and maintained ever since.
Knox cut the engine. Neither of us moved.
"Ready?" he said.
I looked at the house. I looked at Knox.
"No."
He leaned over and kissed me.
"Okay," I said. "Let's go."
The front door opened before we made it up the steps.
"You must be Nora." Maureen Sullivan stepped out onto the porch and took both of my hands in hers. She was tall, elegant, silver-blond hair swept back, wearing a fitted navy dress and small pearl earrings. Her eyes were bright and already filling. "I have been waiting to meet you."
"It's so nice to meet you, Mrs. Sullivan."
"Maureen. Please." She squeezed my hands and turned to Knox. "She's beautiful, Knox."
"I know, Mom."
Maureen pulled him into a hug. He let her hold him, his hand resting briefly on her back before he stepped away.
"Come in, come in." She ushered us through the front door into a foyer with marble floors and a chandelier that caught the light. "Dinner is almost ready. Come in, let me take your jacket."
"Maureen."
Cliff Sullivan appeared from the hallway. He was wearing a light suit with no tie, one hand in his pocket. He looked the same as he did on the floor at CCMC. Composed, measured, unreadable.
"Knox." He extended his hand. Knox shook it. Brief grip, quick release.
"Dad."
Cliff turned to me. "Miss Avery. Thank you for joining us."
"Thank you for having me, Dr. Sullivan."
He nodded once and gestured toward the dining room. "Shall we?"
The dining room table was set for four. White tablecloth, cloth napkins, candles lit, flowers at the center. This mattered to her.
Knox pulled out my chair and sat beside me. Cliff took the head of the table. Maureen sat across from me, still smiling like having us here was the best thing that had happened to her in months. The food came out a moment later.
"So, Nora." Maureen passed me the bread basket. "Tell me about yourself. How long have you been in the ER?"
"Almost six months. I was on the med-surg floor before that, but the ER is where I always wanted to be. When the opening came up, I took it."
"Good for you. And you enjoy it?"
"I love it. It's hard, but it's where I want to be."
Maureen smiled. "Knox was the same way about the fire department. Couldn't be talked out of it." She glanced at Cliff, who was cutting his steak and said nothing.
"How did you two meet?" Maureen asked.
I looked at Knox. He looked at me.
"A house fire," I said. "Knox pulled me out."
"How romantic." Maureen pressed her hand to her chest.
"Do you have family here in Las Vegas?" Cliff asked. It was the first question he'd directed at me all evening.
"My younger brother, Ian. He's seventeen."
"And your parents?"
The table went quiet. Knox's hand found my knee under the tablecloth.
"They passed away," I said. "My father when I was young. My mother a few years after that."
Maureen's face softened. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."
I took a breath. "My brother Ian is all I have. He's a good kid."
Cliff set down his knife and reached for his wine. He didn't say anything. Maureen filled the silence by asking me about Ian, about what he liked, whether he played any sports. I told her what I could. I left out the parts that would make me sound like I was losing him.
Somewhere between the main course and dessert, Maureen started telling me about Knox as a boy.
"He never sat still," she said. "His teachers called me constantly. Couldn't focus, wouldn't do his homework, picked fights." She looked at Knox with a softness that made her whole face change. "But he was sweet. He'd pick flowers from the backyard and bring them to me."
"Mom."
"What? She should know these things." Maureen turned back to me. "He was a handful. But he had the biggest heart in the house."
Knox stared at his plate. I could see the color rising on the back of his neck.
Cliff spoke when addressed, answered Knox's attempts at conversation with short, factual replies, and otherwise focused on his plate. He never looked at me for longer than he had to.
By the time dessert came out, my chest was tight and my hands were steady only because I was keeping them in my lap.