Chapter Five
Reese
My leg burned as I sat in computer training, slathered in calamine lotion, and resisted the urge to itch at my jellyfish wounds. I could hardly pay attention to the instructor, with the image of stormy blue eyes burned into my memory.
Asking strangers to urinate on me was embarrassing; however, I was even more mortified when I Googled it on the drive back to Beth’s and learned that it was a common misconception.
Kelly must have thought I was an idiot. His eyes had been kind, and his smile was easy, but I could feel the way he watched me the whole time we were on the beach.
I panicked after getting stung. After years of working in the ED, people knew me for my calmness under pressure. Now, I knew I was not calm when I was having my own emergency. I had blurted out the first thing that came to mind, and then some hidden pride in me wouldn’t let it go.
Out of pure embarrassment, I’d made sure not to look back at them as Beth and I swam back to our side of the beach. I had been five seconds away from letting Kahale pee on me. Although, based on how Kelly had been acting, I had a feeling he wouldn’t let his ‘brother’ do that.
Kahale had called him his brother. Maybe Hawaiians used the term ‘brother’ more loosely out here because they certainly didn’t look related. But Kelly hadn’t corrected him and had even mentioned he’d lived in Hawaii his entire life. Then there were the intricate matching tattoos.
The instructor jolted me out of the memory by asking us to copy a sequence he performed on his screen, and I focused on the task, trying to shake off yesterday's humiliation. He strolled around, checking everyone off on this skill, and then continued with the next boring objective.
I zoned out, my thoughts trailing back to Kelly.
I had never seen eyes that shade of blue before.
Unlike Beth’s, whose blue eyes were so light, Kelly’s eyes were darker, almost like the sea after a storm had passed through, with swirls of deep blue and gray that melted together.
His dark blonde hair had highlights that only came from a lifetime of being in the sun.
Even in my panic, I wanted to reach up and see if his full lips were as smooth as they appeared when pressed against my own.
I had been fascinated by the black tattoo that started on his left bicep before wrapping its way up his shoulder and then cascading down over his left pectoral.
If I had seen this tattoo on anyone else who was fair-skinned and blonde, it would have looked ridiculous.
I had never even been a huge fan of tattoos.
Mostly because I had never loved something enough to get it permanently etched into my skin.
But the tattoo seemed to fit him, despite what little I knew about him.
Still, it didn’t stop me from wanting to trace the tattoo with my fingertip.
I shook my head, trying to shake some sense back into me. What had gotten into me? Is this what happens when you go a whole year without sex and then run straight into a Greek god?
None of that mattered, though, for two reasons: One, I had acted like an idiot in front of him. Two, I would never see him again. So, I didn’t need to worry about what the most attractive man I had ever met thought about me.
In the meantime, my trusty vibrator was doing the trick, even if I had been thinking about Kelly while using it last night. I learned a long time ago, though, that men were more trouble than they were worth. My dad taught me that lesson early on.
Around 2:00 PM, I finished my computer training early, thanks to my previous experience with the software. On my way out, the instructor told me the badging office was just on the other side of the building, in case I wanted to come back later to get my hospital ID badge.
I didn’t have dinner planned with Beth until 5:00 PM, so I decided to stop by the badging office for a quick picture. With slow strides, I tried to stretch out my muscles, not realizing how badly jellyfish stings would make my muscles ache.
After a slug’s pace, I knocked on the door and came face to face with a portly man whose nametag read ‘Steve’.
“What?” he asked, annoyed, with an issue of Sports Illustrated: Swimsuit Edition in one hand and a donut in the other, with powdered sugar on the corners of his lips.
“Is this the badging office?” I tried to look past him, but he was taking up the entire doorway.
“Yeah?” he said, like it was apparent.
“I’m a traveler. I’m here for my badge.” I was still standing in the doorway.
He didn’t say a thing as he opened the office door a little wider and headed in.
I followed after him and watched as he put his magazine down on a small desk with a single chair and a computer.
The office had no decorations aside from a green cutout on the wall opposite his desk.
The air felt stale, and everything appeared dark, with no natural light in sight.
“Last name?” He was touching the keyboard of his computer with his donut fingers. I felt anxiety grow inside me as I watched the powdered sugar sprinkle off his fingers into the crevices of the keys.
“Phillips.”
“Okay, go stand in front of the green wall.”
Once in place, I plastered on a smile. I wasn’t even sure where to look until I saw a bright light come from the camera he had turned my way.
Blinking furiously, I tried to get the bright circles to fade from my vision as I heard the buzzing of the badge printing. After a moment, he handed it over to me, sitting back down and turning his focus back on the Sports Illustrated.
I barely glanced down at it when, suddenly, I almost dropped it as I read the large block letters.
TOPANGA P.
“Excuse me?” I croaked out.
“No, you can’t retake your picture,” Steve said, unenthused, not even slightly glancing back up at me.
“No, no. It’s not that. You see, I don’t go by Topanga. I got clearance from the hospital to use my middle name, Reese. It should say Reese P.” Hospitals never put your full last name on your badge for safety reasons.
“Sorry, lady,” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “I just print what the computer says. You’ll have to bring that up with administration.” He ran a finger over his greasy, ink-black hair.
“Could you please check the system one more time?” I asked desperately.
“That’s above my pay grade.” He looked back down at his magazine, his sticky donut fingers grasping the sides.
I debated begging when he looked back up.
“Here’s some advice: if you hate your legal name this much, then change it.
Then you won’t run into this problem, Topanga.
” He laughed to himself before turning in his chair.
There was a ringing in my ear as I bit the inside of my cheek, tasting the coppery tang of blood in my mouth as I turned and walked out without another word.
Since leaving for Hawaii, I had endured food poisoning, jellyfish stings, pee request embarrassment, and now this. I was going to have to start my new job with my legal name displayed for everyone to see.
As soon as I got to the silver Prius Beth was lending me, I buried my face in my hands and let out a soft cry.
There were always little things that went wrong when you traveled as I did.
Like the rental you had for the summer, it didn’t have A/C (Austin, Texas).
Or the ED you got accepted to only had six beds and ran more like an Urgent Care (Kodiak, Alaska).
Or the hospital required you to wear only white scrubs, and you only found out the night before you started, so you had to buy a set on Facebook Marketplace—bonus points for being completely see-through (Nashville, Tennessee).
I was tougher than these minor setbacks. I would start this job just like I did every time, adjust to the new hospital and crew, and move on in a few months—no attachments, especially to a particular pair of stormy eyes.
My phone vibrated, and I ended my pity party to look at the message.
Beth: Hey, girly!! ?? Can you do me a favor?
Me: Of course! What’s up?
Beth: I wasn’t sure what time you were going to be done for the day, but I’m going to surprise Derek with a midday pick-me-up coffee.
I’ll probably be gone for at least two hours since Derek works downtown, and the traffic will be terrible.
Would you be willing to let Pickles outside when you get home?
Beth was a seventh-grade language arts teacher and was now enjoying her free days of summer. Pickles, her four-month-old Bernadoodle, was as big as she was. I wiped my remaining tears as I replied to Beth that I wouldn’t mind. I started the car and headed for ‘home.’
I was just as speechless as the first time Beth brought me to her house, as I passed one enormous house after the other; each house was bigger than the next. Beth’s driveway was paved with gray cobblestone and sat at the end of a cul-de-sac.
The house, which was more like a mansion, was a modern style with white stucco and black windows and shutters. The front was beautifully landscaped, with countless bushes, flower beds, and trees lining the property's perimeter.
I pulled into their six-car garage and parked in the spot closest to the house entrance.
At the far end of the garage, one row was set up as a workshop, equipped with every kind of tool you could imagine.
The other rows held an old muscle car, Beth’s missing black Ford Raptor, a ruby-red Tesla Roadster, and a navy-blue Mercedes G-Wagon, respectively.
I entered the mudroom that held an oversized washer and dryer.
The floors were a light, wide plank wood that extended as far as I could see.
The smell of fresh laundry washed over me as I gently sat on a built-in bench.
As I was taking off my shoes, the excited sound of pitter-patter of nails and barking approached me.
I looked up just in time to see a mix of black and white curly fur with a pink tongue sticking out.