Chapter 04 - Cat
Cat
As soon as the screen turns dark again I blink. I move the mouse and stare at the incident report I am desperately trying to finish reading so that I can go home, but the words in front of me currently have no meaning. They just blur and disappear from my vision time and again.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath before releasing a frustrated sigh. The tension in my jaw causes my head to throb, and the last thing I need right now is a headache on top of it all. Focus, Cat!
My eyes slowly open, and I let them glide over the words again.
A 63-year-old male patient received fentanyl 50 mcg IV for management of severe back pain. Approximately ten minutes following administration, the patient exhibited muscle rigidity, reported dizziness, and developed diffuse flushing of the upper torso. Medication was…
My mind slowly slips back to the same place it has wandered to all day.
The exam room. Or rather, the look on Mary’s face when I told her she was medically cleared.
She was brave about it. Smiled and thanked me with that bravado of hers.
But she couldn’t hide that flash of regret that had flickered across her face.
“Dios, Katherina. She is your patient, for crying out loud,” I mutter to myself while I stand to stretch my legs.
I haven’t even made it to the break room for a cup of coffee when the familiar weight of a soft, warm arm lands on my shoulder.
“Hermosa, are we going dancing tonight?”
A part of me wants to snap, but the way Carmen beams at me makes me pause. Her bright smile cracks right through the frustration and seeps into the little spot reserved for my loved ones. So instead of growling at her for addressing me like that at work, I find myself smiling a little.
“Nurse Rodrigues,” I say, emphasizing her title, and Carmen chuckles softly under her breath. “I still have a report to sign off on.”
“?Qué? You? At this hour?”
I press my lips together and nod as I push the door to the break room open. I make a beeline for the coffee pot in the hope that she lets it go, but since we are the only ones there, she plops down on the couch and gazes at me. I sigh and grab two cups.
“Today was just… a lot,” I offer.
“How? There were no major incidents that I was made awar— Ay, Cat! Is it that cutie from this morning?”
My eyes snap to her, pinning her to her spot, but Carmen is anything but impressed. She has seen me stare daggers before and knows it only means she is touching something sensitive.
“Aah, la rubia, she got into your head.”
“The blonde did not get into my head, Carmen. I was treating her.”
“Whatever,” she huffs and waves her hand at me. “If you were to meet her at the bar tonight, you would totally pick her up.”
I roll my eyes. “When was the last time I picked anyone up?”
“Good point, hermana! You should’ve asked for her phone number.”
“Carmen!”
“What? Obviously there was some chemistry going on, or you wouldn’t be this… this… confundida.”
“I am not confused,” I growl at her this time, and her eyebrow raises slightly. “It’s crystal clear. Not only am I the Chief of Trauma, I was also her treating physician. It is a matter of ethics.”
“Ha,” she snorts. “Tell that to your hormones. They are practically radiating off of you. You want her. And I am happy for that. After the way Alex treated—”
“Carmen, ya basta.”
Carmen’s eyes flicker as I hiss at her in our mother tongue, and she finally seems to feel a little of the heat coursing through my system. Her grin falters and a soft frown takes its place. She tilts her head and stares at me for a beat before she shakes it.
“Lo siento, Cat. I was just playing.”
“No need to apologize. Just… let it go, yeah?”
She nods and pats the couch beside her. I sink down and let out another deep sigh before I rest my head against her shoulder.
“So, are we still going dancing?” she asks with a soft smile. “Because you didn’t object to the bar comment.”
I let out a groan but nod anyway.
“Let me finish my coffee and sign off on that report.”
“Perfect,” she exclaims.
And just like that, she is beaming at me again.
I finally close the incident report and hover my mouse over the close button when my eye catches one of the recently viewed charts. Van Achthoven, M.F.A. 03/16/88. My breath hitches as I stare at the name, and my mind is flooded with multiple thoughts.
Will she check her levels tonight? Will she do anything we discussed at all? Why doesn’t she have a GP? One thing is certain. This woman is stubborn. So stubborn that she even refuses to stop when her levels are low. Did I do the right thing by medically clearing her?
“She was no longer in acute danger,” I whisper halfheartedly, but my brain stutters.
Everything in me screams to let it go, to let her go.
She is no longer my responsibility. Mary—no, the patient—even said so herself.
I patched her up and sent her on her way.
Treat them and street them. That’s the business I am in.
That has never bothered me before. There is great value in my work, and I can only perform it to the best of my ability as long as I don’t attempt to take on the tasks of other healthcare professionals.
“Stay in your lane, Cat,” I murmur as I clench my jaw.
I should. Stay in my lane, that is. But that look on her face… That stubborn tilt of her chin, that glint in her eyes. What if she lets her body crash just to have a reason to visit my ER again? I can’t have that.
Before I can stop myself, I pull up her file and go over her information. My eyes fall on her phone number, and I stare at it for a beat. Maybe I should write it down and check in on her, for her safety, her well-being. Yeah, tell yourself that, Doctora.
I freeze. Her voice echoes in the back of my mind. My hands stiffen at my sides as I stare at the screen in utter shock. What in the world am I doing?
In a flash, I move forward and hover the mouse over the X to close the file.
I almost click, ready to put this, her, behind me.
But her phone number is right there. My heart is pounding so hard that I can feel it in my throat.
I rub the palms of my hands along my slacks as I try to steady my breathing.
Don’t. I grab my personal phone and add her number.
I look back at the screen, ready to close her file, when the light suddenly changes. My gaze instantly moves to the door, where Carmen is leaning against the frame. When in the world did she come in? I didn’t even hear her open it.
“What ya doin’, Kitty Cat?” she taunts, and I feel myself go pale.
I swallow hard and rapidly click to close the file, my hands still shaking.
“Just wrapping up,” I reply, but my voice sounds strained even in my own ears.
“Wrapping up with your phone in your hand?”
“Carmen…”
She goes quiet for a moment, and I hesitantly move my gaze back toward her. As soon as our eyes meet, hers widen. Her mouth falls open as if she is starring in some cheap telenovela, and she lets out a huff of air.
“Don’t,” I sneer instantly and turn away from her to grab my bag and keys.
“Tell me you didn’t…”
My body seizes, and my breath gets caught somewhere between my chest and my throat. Not once in my life have I told a lie to my best friend. Not as a kid, not as a grown-up, not even when it would have been easier. I am not starting now.
I force myself to breathe and continue collecting my belongings, but my silence speaks for itself, and Carmen knows exactly how to read that. She knows me better than anyone else.
“?Cono, Katherina! Are you loca?” she hisses between clenched teeth and immediately closes the door behind her. “You know I was just fucking with you, right? What the hell?”
A white-hot sensation spreads through my chest, and I instinctively clench my hands into tight fists. I turn around slowly to face her. Carmen’s eyes scan me with worry and something that looks a lot like irritation. I shake my head.
“I have done nothing I would not have done for any other patient,” I state, and I mean every single word of it.
If I felt that a patient was a danger to themselves, I would take the appropriate action. That’s why I made Mary come in a second time. That’s why I took her phone number. Okay, that one might be pushing it a little bit, but I haven’t even used it.
“Oh yeah?” Carmen asks and folds her arms across her chest. “Then why do you look as guilty as you did on the day we took your dad’s vintage car for a spin and crashed it?”
My cheeks flush instantly at the memory, and I scowl at her.
“It is my job to ensure every person walking out of here is not at risk of rel—”
“Relapse. Yes, Kitty Cat, I know that. Part of my job description too, ya know? But have you ever seen me pull up a file without proper cause? You know they log that shit, Cat. What were you thinking?”
She is right. Of course she is. If they check the audit logs, I’m screwed.
I know that. I stare at the screen for a beat and bite my lip.
What was I thinking? Where is all that pride in being so ethical now?
I shake my head again and let out a strained breath.
Carmen instantly closes the distance between us and wraps her arms around me.
My head lands somewhere against her shoulder, and I close my eyes.
She is right. Of course she is. I’ve gone too far, and I know it.
My whole body tenses in her arms, but it only makes her hug me tighter.
“It’s going to be okay, hermosa. Nothing happened, right?”
I shake my head, unwilling to open my eyes.
“Good. Then pull yourself together, Doctor Durand. It’s dancing time.”
She smiles against my hair before she pulls back and looks at me.
I reluctantly open my eyes to meet hers.
Her gaze is soft and warm instead of the usual playful one.
It reminds me why I feel so safe with her.
Even though Carmen is a hyperactive ball of sunshine, she goes completely still when it matters. And in this moment, it matters.
I nod softly.
“Good. We are going to do shots tonight, and the first round is on you.”
I groan again as I push myself away from her.
“One of these days you’ll be the death of me, Carmen Rodrigues,” I grunt, and she lets out a light laugh.
“Maybe, but at least you’ll die having lived. You are welcome, by the way.”
“Mm-hmm.” I roll my eyes. “My liver salutes you.”
She grins now and wraps her arm around my shoulder while gently pushing me toward the door. Somewhere inside my stomach, a knot loosens slightly, and I can breathe a little easier.
“You know what?” I admit. “Maybe going out tonight isn’t such a bad idea at all.”
Carmen’s grin widens.
“You know, having fun is the best medicine. So, I’d say the shots are doctor’s orders.”
I shake my head but can’t suppress my laugh. Doctor’s orders indeed.