Chapter 21 - Cat
Cat
Carmen is half-bent over the computer at the nurse’s station when I start my rounds.
Her eyes instantly flick to mine, squinting as she drops her gaze over my body.
My jaw ticks when they widen a little, and I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes.
I try to turn away from her, stepping toward a patient, but her fingers already wrap around my elbow.
“Doctor Durand, a word, please?”
I slowly turn to gaze at her, already bristling at what is inevitably going to follow.
“Nurse Rodrigues, can’t it wait?”
I emphasize the last word, but Carmen shakes her head intensely, making her curls, tied up in a neat ponytail, bounce from side to side. She glances back at the board, quickly taking in the cases, and then shakes her head again.
“I’m afraid not. Your attention is needed elsewhere. It will be brief.”
Before I can even reply, she grips my elbow tighter and pulls me with her.
I am about to object when she enters an empty exam room and closes the door behind us.
Her eyes sparkle, and she lets out a high-pitched squeak, nearly bouncing in place, before she grabs both my shoulders and starts shaking me roughly.
“Kitty Cat, oh my God! You and la rubia? Tell me everything. And I mean eve-ry-thing!”
I stare at her until she finally lets go of my shoulders and seems to tone down her enthusiasm.
She bites her lip when I raise one eyebrow, and I see her cheeks flame hot.
?Maldita sea! Why do I have to have a soft spot for her?
This time, I do roll my eyes and let out a soft huff, but I can’t keep my lips from ticking up slightly.
Carmen’s response is instant. Her eyes go wide again, and she starts to shake all over, trying to rein herself in.
“I knew it. I freaking knew it!”
“Shh, Carmen.” I wince. “Remember where we are.”
“Sí, sí, of course, doctora.”
“Don’t even start.” I bristle.
Her grin is so smug that I start pushing past her to see my patients. I have better things to do with my already precious time. But she doesn’t let me go that easily.
“Que no, Katherina, don’t be like that. Por favor.”
“We aren’t doing this right now,” I say, but her hand lands on my shoulder, and she tilts her head so that she can look me in the eye.
“But we are.” She smirks. “Or I’ll tell Rosa all about it.”
It feels as if all the air in the room has been sucked out, and I blink at her in disbelief.
“You wouldn’t,” I hiss.
But I know better. She absolutely would tell my mother. And then my mother would want to know everything and insist on meeting Mary. ?Cono! We are not there yet… not even close. Carmen crosses her arms and mimics my eyebrow raise.
“You are the devil.”
“Yep. Now speak.”
“Fine, yes. I was with Mary.” I cave, clenching my hands into fists.
Carmen grins widely.
“So you kissed and made up?”
“Carmen, that is quite enough.”
There is an edge to my voice that is sharp enough to cut glass. She is seriously pushing me, and she knows it. I am not going to betray Mary’s trust by telling my friend about what happened. That is between her and me. Besides, we are in the hospital, and I still have a reputation to uphold.
“Let’s get to work, Nurse Rodrigues,” I say with a bit more bite than I should.
But she just shakes her head. Her eyes twinkle even more, and she flashes a wide, toothy smile under the cold UV lights.
“I am happy for you, Kitty Cat. I really am,” she hums, her voice laced with affection now. “It is about time you got yourself a girlfriend.”
With those words, she disappears through the door, assuming I am hot on her heels. Except I am not. I stand frozen in the doorframe, the words sinking in. You got yourself a girlfriend. Do I?
The morning rush is madness. More than half of the patients who were brought in over the weekend need extensive care and consultations, and only a handful of them are ready for discharge.
I shouldn’t be happy about that, especially since we are severely understaffed, but the buzz keeps my mind off those five little words.
“Do you feel any tenderness, Miss Porto?”
“I feel like my whole arm is going to fall off. Does that count as tenderness, Doctor?”
The snide comment cuts through the room, and the nurse adjusting the IV drip freezes for a breath. Her eyes flash to me, before she continues. Still, that moment is all she needs to let me know she’s here if I wish for backup. It would make me huff if it weren’t so loyal.
I don’t reply to the patient instantly, but take my time to review her chart.
She came in with a fractured clavicle where the seatbelt restrained her, and she has shown signs of stiffness and pain in her neck.
Even though the break had been set almost immediately after her arrival, the resident had her admitted to monitor her neurological response.
Smart. I look at the name on the chart and make a mental note to speak to her about this. Isabel Ramos, MD.
“Yes, Miss Porto, that counts. There is some swelling and muscle spasm around the clavicle, which can irritate nearby nerves, causing a numb or heavy sensation.” I glance up at her from the chart. “Also known as the feeling of one’s arm falling off.”
The nurse let’s out a scoff of laughter that she quickly turns into a cough, but the corners of her eyes give her away.
I keep a perfectly straight face as the patient’s face falters.
What I just did, justified or not, was highly inappropriate.
She could have my hide for it if she really wants to.
But her face crumples, and she looks back up at me.
“I am sorry, Doctor. It just hurts so much, and my head, it’s just…”
“Pounding?” I ask as I reach for the penlight in my pocket.
The woman nods and instantly winces. Doctor Ramos was definitely right to admit her. Stiff neck and shoulder muscles, a pounding headache—I flash the light at her pupils, which respond a little sluggishly—and mild irritation.
“Order a CT. Gead and C-spine,” I say to the nurse, who nods instantly before I turn my attention back to the patient. “This is likely whiplash, but I want to rule out anything more serious.”
“More serious?” the woman asks, her voice suddenly very fragile.
“Yes.” I nod. “Things like a fracture of the vertebrae or intracranial hemorrhage.”
The woman frowns and looks at the nurse.
“A broken neck or a brain bleed,” she explains, and then shrugs at me when she sees my stare.
So much for that solidarity.
By the time I step into my office, my head is throbbing, too, and my feet are killing me. I kick off the clogs and wiggle my toes before I sink down on the small couch in the corner. One of the benefits of being chief. Paid for in blood, sweat, and life force, of course.
I let out a soft moan as my back protests, but my mind instantly drifts back to Mary and that dreadful couch of hers. A small smile lingers on my lips as I think about our night together. My fingers instantly slide into my pocket, and I pull out my phone. There they are. Two messages from her.
02:18 p.m. – Mary Mary
Hey, you were gone early this morning. Thank you for leaving a note. I almost got worried.
04:01 p.m. – Mary Mary
Maybe I’m jumping the gun here a bit, but would you like to have dinner again sometime? I found this really cute Lebanese place, if you are into hummus.
I let out an amused chuckle. Of course she’d word it like that. Only her.
05:21 p.m. – Katherina
I prefer the creamy texture of labneh.
05:22 p.m. – Katherina
Also, that is a yes. I would love to.
I let the phone fall next to me on the couch and lean my head against the backrest. Every bone in my body feels heavy, and my eyelids instantly close.
My body has been running on adrenaline for days.
And instead of sleeping the whole weekend away like I usually do when I am off, I spent every minute I could making love to Mary.
“Worth it,” I whisper to myself.
“Is she?”
I bolt upright when Carmen replies, my heart hammering against my chest and my eyes now wide open. It feels like my stomach has just dropped three floors, and I realize my fists are up when my best friend raises both her hands.
“Cálmate, Cat. It’s just me.”
“Tú eres una idiota. Why would you sneak up on me like that? How did you even get in without making a noise?”
Her eyebrows shoot up, and she lets out a laugh.
“Cat, I knocked.”
“?Cómo?”
“Sí. I knocked, but you didn’t answer.” A flicker of amusement flashes over her face. “But I guess I know why now.”
“Carmen…” I warn, but she just slides beside me on the couch.
“Oh, come on, Cat. You always tell me everything.”
It’s true, I do. But this… thing… that is happening between Mary and me, it’s not like anything else. It’s something different, something unique. And it feels like I have to guard it before it slips away.
“How did you even know?”
I settle my gaze on her, curious about what gave it away. If she can name it, I can hide it better. After all, there are more inquiring minds who would want to know.
“Really?”
She almost sounds offended, and I frown in confusion.
“Yes.”
Carmen clacks her tongue and rolls her eyes.
“You had a week from hell, disappeared on me after that highway crash incident, and didn’t respond to any of my texts or calls over the weekend.”
My cheeks flush at that. I don’t usually leave her messages unanswered. Not unless something is really wrong and I can’t find the energy to reply. I open my mouth to say just that when she raises her finger. My jaw snaps shut again. Dios, she is like my mother.
“And then you have the audacity to stroll into the ER…”
“I don’t stroll.”
“…looking like you haven’t slept for days and still have this magical glow about you.”
“I don’t glow.”
Carmen raises her eyebrows again and inclines her head.
“On the contrary, mi amiga. You very much do.”
“Come on, Car, be real with me. What gave it away?”
She laughs softly and shakes her head.
“Not buying it, huh?”
When I don’t reply, she sighs and shakes her head again.
“Fine, spoilsport. You smiled.”
“What?”
“That’s what gave you away, Cat. You never smile.”
“That’s not true. I do—”
“Not at work, you don’t. But this morning, your lips were curled all the way up here.” She presses her two index fingers into my cheeks and giggles. “Crinkling eyes and rosy cheeks included.”
I swat her hands away and scowl. Carmen lets out a fake yelp and acts offended, but she is beaming at me as she does.
“Why are you here, anyway?” I deadpan, trying to ignore her antics.
“Oh, right. The results of that CT came back.”
I frown at her. My mind is so scrambled that I’m coming up empty. But when she taps her fingers against her clavicle, the realization dawns, and I only frown harder.
“Coffee,” Carmen murmurs, and I nod. We walk toward the break room together while the hallways are finally emptying.
“Isn’t the resident in?”
“I looked for her on the board. She isn’t set to present yet.”
I let out an irritated sigh. In theory, rotations are amazing. They allow freshly graduated physicians to get a taste of the different specialties of medicine. But in practice, it means the staff has to memorize new faces every four weeks.
We push through the door, and I instantly dart to the pot of coffee. It’s empty. I let out another frustrated groan, and turn to face Carmen. She scoffs and takes the pot from me.
“You are such a surgeon sometimes. Too lazy to make your own freaking coffee.”
There is a soft chuckle in the corner, and we both whip our heads toward the sound at the same time.
Tucked away in the farthest chair, nearly out of the light, sits a young woman.
Her legs are propped up, and her face is half-hidden behind the latest issue of Woman at the Front.
She peers at us over the edge of the magazine, her green eyes taking us in.
I give her a blank stare and return my attention to Carmen.
“Do me a favor and find that resident. Isabel... something. Let her have a look.”
“Fellow, actually,” the woman says, lowering the copy and smiling at us. She nods at me once. “Doctor Ramos. Isa. And you must be Doctor Durand.”
My mind quiets for a beat when I remember the meeting nearly three months ago.
I pushed for this fellowship myself. Doctor Ramos had shown outstanding work during her rotations in L.A.
, but transferred to Fairfax only recently.
My old roommate had called me. She had sent over a few papers the fellow had worked on, and had vouched for her.
I made no promises, but the committee seemed fine with adding a possible prodigy, and the paperwork was signed.
“Doctor Ramos, aren’t you a little late?”
If the lack of facial expressions bothers her, she makes sure not to show it. Instead, she places the magazine on the table, stands up, and walks toward me with an outstretched hand. Carmen shifts uncomfortably next to me, and the woman’s gaze instantly drifts toward her.
“Oh, and the infamous Nurse Rodrigues, I assume?” she adds after a quick glance at the embroidered title on her scrubs.
“I, uh… yeah,” Carmen breathes, and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from snickering. Smooth, hermana.
I grab Isa’s hand, and her eyes travel back to mine.
“It was my understanding you were supposed to start two months ago.”
The woman nods. Her honey-brown ponytail bobs softly up and down, but not a hair falls out of place.
“There were some issues with the move, so it was pushed back. Were you not informed?”
“I will have to check that. For now, welcome to Inova.”