FIVE
EMMA
“Sis, you have to call Mom!”
My brother’s agitated voice makes me shudder, even through the phone. No, it’s not his voice; it’s what he’s saying.
“Ugh, Brad, don’t make me,” I whine.
“You missed your weekly pep talk, and now she keeps bugging me because she’s worried about you.”
“You call this a pep talk?” I snort. “Telling me I didn’t turn out how she expected is not a pep talk. Every week it’s the same. Just a nurse … become a surgeon like your dad … or at least study medicine like your brother … blah blah blah,” I mimic my mother’s worried voice. “She’s not worried about me. She’s worried I won’t get a grip soon and get married and have lots of babies so she doesn’t look like a failure in front of her so-called friends, who all have grown children with beautiful families of their own. Because I’m the only one who can provide her with grandchildren.”
Brad huffs. “Hey, Stuart and I might adopt a baby one day.”
I let out a deep sigh. “Even if you didn’t, you’ll always be her favorite. Your coming out earned her so many points with her friends because you are so brave.”
“I feel the air quotes through the phone, Em,” he says with a laugh. “And that’s bullshit. I’m not her favorite. I have to endure her pep talks too. But seriously, call her. Do you want her to board the next plane and show up on your doorstep? Because she will do that.”
“Oh, no, anything but that. Fine, I’ll call her,” I mumble with another sigh.
“You can do it, Em. And Mom loves you; she’s just incapable of showing it like normal people.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m sure she’d give me up for adoption if possible. Maybe you and Stuart could adopt me while we talk about it?”
“Don’t be silly. Okay, sis, gotta run. Call Mom. Love you.”
“Yeah, okay. Love you too.”
After saying goodbye to my brother, I pace up and down my living room to gather all my patience and cool before dialing my mom’s number.
I draw in one last deep breath. Here goes nothing.
As usual, she picks up after the third ring. “Emma! At last.”
“Hey, Mom.”
Precisely seventeen agonizing minutes later, we end the call, and I grab my jacket and purse and rush out of my apartment to cool down. My mom knows how to push my buttons.
Most days, we have a halfway civil conversation. Most days, she hides her irritation, and I ignore her nagging .
Not today. Today, the phone call was almost impossible to endure. Her tirade wasn’t about my job or poor life choices. Today, she asked me if I didn’t know what was wrong with me and why no man wanted to be with me and start a family. Not literally, of course, because my mom is a pro at sugarcoating her hurtful words.
During our conversation, I had to take so many deep breaths that I was close to hyperventilating. Relief flooded my system when she had to cut our little talk short because she was running late for a meeting with the other desperate housewives from her neighborhood for their weekly exchange of gossip. Again, not what she literally said.
Ugh, that woman! It’s always been like this. She pushes and pressures me, claiming she wants to get the best out of me. And now look what happened. I’m wasting my extraordinary talent.
I’m happy with my life. Too bad my mom can’t be happy for me.
I wander through the streets of Manhattan for a while until I realize I’m close to the hospital. I check the time: it’s three p.m.
I know just the thing to cheer me up.
When I walk out of the elevator on the children’s ward, where Paul is volunteering today, the laughing and giggling that always accompanies his songs already lift my mood. I stride to the big room, where the children staying at the hospital right now, gather around Paul and his guitar, singing along to a song about things that make you laugh.
And finally, my smile is back, and it grows wider when I spot Tessa in a corner.
“Hey, Emma.” She beams at me when I take a seat next to her. “How are you?”
“Hi, Tessa. I’m good. How about you guys? I haven’t seen you for a while.”
“That’s true. We’re good. Is it your day off?” She points to my clothes.
Usually, I’m only here when I’m working. I sneak off from the ER as often as possible when Paul plays because I love how these kids’ faces gleam with joy when he sings with them. It makes me happy to see them like that, and that’s why I’m here now.
“Yes, it is. I was in the neighborhood and wanted to say hello to you guys. I haven’t heard Paul play for much too long, and I love seeing these kids so happy. Paul’s music never fails to improve a crappy day.”
Tessa gazes at Paul, and her entire face lights up with an enamored smile. “Yeah, true.” She turns to me. “Crappy day, huh?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, annoying mom. I need some distraction.”
She nods, placing her hand on my forearm. “Sorry to hear that.”
“Oh no, I’m sorry.” I grimace. “I didn’t mean to complain.”
She waves off my comment. “Don’t worry about it.”
Tessa lost her parents when she was only eighteen, and here I am whining about my mom. But she gives me a reassuring smile, moving on from the subject. “How come I’ve never seen you at one of the guys’ gigs at the pub?”
I shrug. “They’re playing every Friday night, right?”
“Yeah, at O’Reilly’s. You know that pub?”
“I do. Unfortunately, I work most Fridays.” I frown. “But now that I’ve met his two bandmates, I feel like I should come next time I’m not working.”
“You definitely should. Paul, Henry, and Jack are awesome.”
Tessa grins at me, and inevitably, the guy I’ve been thinking about ever since I met him a little over a week ago is back on my mind.
Emma, no! Don’t start that conversation!
“So how’s Jack?”
Good job. I give myself a mental face slap at my apparent wish to torture myself. Why do I even go there?
“Jack? He’s good. Fully recovered with no lasting damage. Meaning, he’s his usual introverted self with an aversion to human touch,” she says with a chuckle.
“Oh yeah, I was wondering what that was all about. I thought he’d faint when I had to clean his cut.”
Tessa shrugs. “According to Paul, something terrible happened in his past, which he doesn’t talk about, and Paul won’t tell me either.”
Damn! He’s a poor, injured soul—another reason to stay as far away from him as possible.
“By the way,” Tessa says. “Are you coming to Paul’s birthday party next Saturday? ”
As they’re best friends, I assume Jack will also be there. So I, of course, accept the invitation right away because I’m a little bit masochistic.
A few days later, I’m almost done with my twelve-hour shift at the ER—two more hours to go. Today was stressful and exhausting, but lately, most days have been like that. I’m so tired most of the time—stupid spring fever.
“Hey, Emma.” Abby turns up next to me while I clean up one of the exam rooms. “Could you take over one of my patients? I have to accompany this other guy to an MRI scan.”
I accept the file from her. “Sure. What is it?”
“Twenty-three-year-old woman. Dislocated shoulder. I called the orthopedist. He’ll be here shortly for reduction.” She grins. “Oh, and her husband is that hot friend of yours,” she adds as she runs off.
“Wha—” Great, she’s already gone. I walk to the exam room, trying to make sense of Abby’s words. That hot friend of mine? Who the fuck is she talking ab—
Holy crap!
As soon as I enter the room, my heartbeat accelerates and my breath hitches in my throat. Oh, that hot friend. Well, friend is overstated. The guy I unsuccessfully tried to forget since I met him is more like it .
Jack sits on the exam table, arms crossed over his chest. Next to him sits a stunning young woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and beautiful brown eyes. Wow!
His wife?
Damn, why is that such a disturbing thought? But what’s more important: why the fuck am I such a mess? What does it matter if he’s married?
“Hey,” I say as I press the file against my chest.
Jack lifts his gaze, and when he recognizes me, his eyes widen before he says, “Oh, hi, Emma.”
Unsurprisingly, he still doesn’t smile at me. But hey, he remembered my name.
Which doesn’t matter at all because he’s married, for goodness’ sake!
I search the file for the patient’s name. Olivia Holmes. But wasn’t Jack’s last name Boyd?
Again, not important!
“Hi, Mrs. Holmes, I’m Emma,” I say and smile at her. And oh wonder! She smiles back! But she hisses through her teeth when she moves her left arm, which she holds close to her body with her right.
“Sorry.” She grimaces. “Hurts like shit. Again, sorry.”
I shake my head. “Don’t worry. A dislocated shoulder hurts like shit. What happened?”
She shoots a scowling Jack a sideways look. “I fell off a ladder,” she explains. “We have this huge tree in our backyard, and the cat got stuck. I climbed up and tripped. It was only the second or third step, but I fell on my arm and shoulder, and now it hurts but also feels kind of numb, and it looks weird.” She peeks at Jack again. “Ugh! Dammit, Jack! Stop looking at me all judgmental. I’m sorry, okay?”
Jack grunts. “Damn, Liv. You could have waited for your husband or called me.”
She glares at him. “Man, you’re the most annoying big brother on the face of this earth.”
They are siblings? Why does relief make my tense shoulders relax? I shouldn’t be happy about this. I should not feel attracted to him. But fuck, I do! The way I’m reacting to him now is a sure sign.
“So what happens next?” Olivia’s voice brings me back to reality.
I clear my throat. “Even though the diagnosis is pretty obvious, the doctor will want to do an X-ray of your shoulder.”
Olivia frowns. “X-ray? Is that really necessary?”
“That’s the usual procedure. Why? What’s wrong?”
The frown on her forehead deepens, and she crooks her finger at me to whisper in my ear, “I’m pregnant.”
“You’re WHAT?” Jack yells, jumping up and staring at her with wide eyes.
Olivia flicks her gaze to the ceiling with a deep sigh. “Damn, I forgot your exceptional talent to hear things that aren’t intended for your ears.”
Jack paces back and forth. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It’s still early on. Ethan and I weren’t gonna tell anyone yet. Surprise!”
Jack shoves his fingers through his hair. A gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by me. “You have no fucking business climbing unstable ladders leaning against trees when you’re pregnant,” he grumbles .
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Calm down, Jack.”
“She’s right,” I say, placing my hand on Jack’s arm.
Oops, big mistake! He jumps at the contact, anything but willing to calm down.
“Sorry!” I pull my hand away, and a frustrated groan escapes him.
“Fuck this.” He runs his hand over his face. “I’m waiting outside.”
And with that, he’s gone.
“Excuse Mr. Grumpy-Ass,” Olivia says. “He needs a minute to cool down. He’s the most overprotective big brother. Along with Will, my other older brother, that is. Growing up was a blast with those two.” I chuckle as she goes on, “So what happens now?”
“As the X-ray is off the table, the doctor might do an ultrasound of your shoulder. And after it has been reduced, we’ll take you to the ob-gyn department to check on the baby.” I smile at her, and she beams back at me. “How far along are you?” I ask.
“Only eight weeks, so we haven’t made it official yet. I’m glad my brother took the news so well. Again, I’m sorry about Mr. Grumpy-Ass. But he’s not that bad once you get to know him better, right?”
I nod silently. Good to know.