Chapter 34
“Hello?”
My voice is still thick with sleep when I pick up my phone, my heart still beating wildly from the panic of being ripped from my dream so quickly.
“Julia?” says a female voice. “It’s Nurse Bouchard. I realize I have likely woken you. My sincerest apologies for that, but I seem to have found myself in a bit of a situation and require your help.”
I think I grunt an okay or maybe a fine as I push myself onto my elbows.
“I have had a small family emergency,” Nurse Bouchard says. “I have to go to Montreal immediately. I have a replacement from corporate on her way, but she will still be a few hours. I need someone to cover for me until she arrives. Are you able to come back in?”
I pull the phone from my ear to glance at the time. It’s not even noon. “I just came off a night shift, and I have another tonight—”
“I am aware,” she interrupts. “I’ve managed to do some shuffling with the schedule. You only need to come in until my replacement arrives, but I’ll make sure you’re paid for a full twelve hours. Please. I would consider this a great personal favor.”
I consider pointing out how quick she is to flex the rules now that it’s her situation that requires bending them. Instead, I stretch my arms, awakening my body.
“Yeah, okay. Give me twenty minutes.”
There is a rush of breath on her end of the line. “Thank you, Julia. I knew I could trust you.”
My heart begins to warm for the briefest moment until she adds, “I will see you in eighteen minutes. Please don’t be tardy.”
I throw on a pair of clean scrubs, scrape my hair back into a ponytail, and arrive back at Sunnyvale sixteen minutes later.
Nurse Bouchard runs me through a checklist of the items that need covering before reassuring me her replacement is only three hours away.
I spend the first two hours methodically running through the items she asked me to do, completing them just as Nurse Bouchard’s replacement arrives—an hour earlier than expected.
I catch her up on all the basics, and when I’m formally excused, with a full twelve-hour shift clocked on my pay card, I head downstairs to catch the tail end of happy hour in the recreation room.
The lights are dimmed to give maximum effect to the tiny laser machine plugged into the corner. It flashes blue, purple, and green specks onto the ceiling and walls and the temporary bar set up on one of the wooden tables in the corner.
I wave at Zoe, who is acting as head bartender this afternoon, flipping liquor bottles up in the air to the delight of Mr. Minard and Mr. Samuel. They ooh as she catches them and aah as she misses, sending a thankfully closed bottle of vodka rolling across the carpet.
“There you are, Julia.” Mrs. Hail dances over to me, her shoulders shaking in time with the music from Mr. McNaught’s record player. “Come and dance. Everyone else here is acting like party poopers, and you know how I love a good mambo.”
I take her hand and spin her, then attempt to follow the rhythmic shuffles of her feet. I last all of half a minute before she stops and pats me softly on the cheek.
“Actually, maybe you should help out Zoe instead. I think I’m better off as a one-woman show.”
She dances away, and I find Zoe at the bar pouring two martinis with the recovered vodka.
“Hey there, big shot,” she says as she pours. “Heard you made it to the Oval Office.”
I laugh and pull an empty folding chair over so I can sit. “It was great while it lasted, but alas, I return to being lowly support staff tomorrow at nine a.m. sharp.”
“So, are you off for the night then?” Zoe holds up the vodka bottle as if asking if I want one, but I shake my head.
“I’ll wait until I get home. I’m going to make myself stay up so I can get back on a normal sleep schedule. I may have a glass of wine when I call Reeve.”
As soon as I say it, I remember that I can’t call Reeve. He has his parents’ anniversary party tonight.
A party I can all of a sudden make.
I check my phone. It’s not even three. If I move fast enough, I could go home, change, and make it to the party just in time for seven.
“Actually”—I jump to my feet—“Reeve’s parents are having a thing tonight. I was invited, but I didn’t think I could make it. Do you think it’s weird if I show up?”
Zoe’s lips curl into a small, knowing smile.
“You are asking this question of a person who has zero issues crashing a party she wasn’t invited to—but with that context, no.
I think you absolutely should go. Go home and shower.
Put on a hot dress—the black one, not the pink one you think is hot—and dance the night away, my little Cinderella. Tell me every detail in the morning.”
—
I call Reeve when I’m outside of the city limits, on a quiet country road where there is little chance of running into a traffic cop looking to bust me for not being hands-free. He picks up on the fourth ring right as I’m starting to panic a little at the last-minute nature of my plan.
“Jules?”
The sounds of the city are in the background, an indistinguishable hum of car engines and honking horns.
“Yes, hey. It’s me.”
“I was thinking about you but didn’t call because I assumed you’d still be sleeping. Are you on your way to work?”
I instinctively glance at the dress I threw on and then at the gym bag on my passenger seat, packed haphazardly with clothes and toiletries.
“Actually, I’m on my way to Toronto. My shifts got switched, and now I’m off for the night.
I have to be back by nine a.m. tomorrow, which means a very early morning, but I really wanted to see you.
” I’m babbling now, the words pouring out in a rush.
“I was going to show up at your parents’ party and surprise you like they do in the movies,” I continue. “But I don’t have the address, so…”
There’s a pause as he catches up to everything I’ve spewed out.
“You’re coming?”
There’s a loud honk in the background, and I’m not sure if his question is a clarification or sheer surprise.
“Yeah.” I mentally calculate the remaining distance. “I should be there right at seven. I missed you.”
“Shit.” His curse is soft, but it hits me hard.
“Oh.” I instinctively look for a place to pull off, a driveway or dirt road to turn my car back around. Clearly, I haven’t thought through this romantic gesture.
“No, no, no. That wasn’t about you.” I hear static, as if his phone is brushing up against his clothing. “I just have a few things going on at work.”
I see a dirt driveway off to my right and pull into it. My blinker ticks as I make the turn.
“It’s okay, I can turn around.”
“Do not turn around.” The force behind those words covers any soreness from before like a balm. “I just need a second to figure this out.”
I hear him draw a deep breath.
“Okay.” The word comes out in an exhale. “I need to run into this meeting now, but I will meet you outside the Granite Club at seven. I’m texting you the address now.”
“Are you sure? I can turn around. It’s fine. I—”
“No.” He cuts me off. “It’s been a really, really shitty day, and seeing you is going to be the only good thing about it.”
My heart feels like it’s grown a size.
He fills the pause before I can. “I’ll see you in a couple hours then?”
I nod even though he can’t see me. “I’ll be there.”