4
Turns out, it can get worse.
“Aren’t you supposed to show me around?” No more smiles from Ethan, just a steely glare.
“Oh, of course,” I say with exaggerated politeness, my tone saccharine. “How rude of me to forget. That’s what I’m here for,” I say, slitting my eyes at him, “to serve you.”
I stand and go to the door where, overdramatically, I wave my hands with a flourish. “Please follow me.” I flick my long, red hair over my shoulder and stomp out into the hallway without waiting for Ethan. But when I turn, he’s there, right on my heels. Too close. He slams into my back with a muffled oomph. I lurch forward, windmilling my arms so I don’t fall, and shoot an irate glance over my shoulder.
Rude.
“This is the Radiology Department. Down that hallway are the MRI and CAT scanners.” I point to the left and right. “Ultrasound, X-ray, and mammography are down the other hallway. Nuclear medicine is downstairs.” We make our way to the department’s center. “This is where our administrators and lead technicians work.”
The ultrasound rooms are empty. Melanie must be in between biopsies. I stop to introduce Ethan to Amy. He unleashes thesmile on her. She stands staring, mouth agape. When Ethan turns away to peer into one of our fluoroscopy rooms, Amy catches my eye behind his back. “Wow,” she mouths silently at me, motioning at him with her thumb.
I shrug my shoulders in response. He’s decent-looking. So what? Doesn’t mean he’s a good doctor or even a good person.
Something about the way she’s ogling him irritates me. I grab his wrist and drag him away. “Come on. More hospital to see.” I haul Ethan along, leaning my full body weight forward to counter his large size. When he glances down at my hand, I let go, my hand and cheeks suddenly on fire.
We fly through the tour. It’s easy showing him around. I’ve spent so many hours in this hospital I could do it in my sleep. Going up and down stairways, I take him to the Emergency Room, operating rooms, laboratory, and pharmacy.
By the time we’re done, it’s past 1:00 p.m. The growl of my stomach reminds me that all I had today was a few sips of iced latte before a certain someone made me spill the rest.
“You hungry? No tour is complete without a trip to the cafeteria.”
“Starving.” He rubs his stomach for emphasis.
The cafeteria is at the lowest level of the hospital. A slow stream of doctors, nurses, and technicians join us, all heading in. It’s like watching a herd of animals migrate to the watering hole during an African safari. The greasy smell of char-grilled hamburgers and fried tater tots hangs heavy in the air as we enter. Underlying it is the chemical scent of medical-grade disinfectant.
I pick up a chipped plastic tray from the stack near the door. Ethan follows my lead, taking his own tray, and waits patiently behind me. We proceed down the line, grabbing plates of pre-made food as we go. When Ethan stops by the grill to order a burger and fries, I gape at him. “More food?” He’s already loaded his tray with salad, two cups of strawberry Jello, and a turkey sandwich. “Are you really going to eat all that?”
A sardonic smirk from him. “Oh yeah. I’ll eat. Every. Last. Bite.” He stares into my eyes as he draws out those last three words, letting silence build between each one. Something about how he says it sounds intimate, almost sexy. There’s a weird hollowing in my stomach, a clenching low in my belly that has nothing to do with hunger. At least, not that kind of hunger.
“Besides, don’t we get the food for free?” He breaks his gaze from mine to pile silverware onto his plate. “That’s how we do it in Cleveland.”
So entitledis the first thought that pops into my mind. “It’s free, but that doesn’t mean we should waste it.” I wonder if this man has ever been hungry. If he knew what it was like to worry about making food last, stretching it out until the next paycheck came in.
A memory comes to me of my mother hunched over a pile of bills at our tiny kitchen table at night, a vase of wilting red roses next to her. Her calculator in hand and a line of worry dividing her forehead. How the spill of light and shadow from the cheap chandelier overhead turned that line into a chasm.