Chapter Four
From: Keegan Baldwin [email protected]
To: Luna Oliver [email protected]
Date: October 17
Hey Luna. Is it starting to cool off in MN? It is still really hot in NYC, and part of me is missing fall back home. My apartment is small, especially with five guys living here. There is no AC, and it’s too hot to sleep. But in better news, my roommates and I booked a trip to Amsterdam over Thanksgiving. We somehow managed to get the same few days off. We’re researching hostel options now. Anyway, I hope your first semester is going well. How’s your Bio Chem course going?
From: Luna Oliver [email protected]
To: Keegan Baldwin [email protected]
Date: October 18
I would pay good money to be a fly on the wall, watching Keegan Baldwin in Amsterdam. and in a hostel. I read that they only wash the sheets in those places about once a month. Imagine all the bodily fluids that you’ll be sleeping on. Also, a friend of mine stayed at a hostel in Amsterdam, and the room had twenty beds, and people openly had sex in front of others, and the showers were co-ed. I can’t think of a place less Keegan Baldwin than a hostel in Amsterdam. But good for you branching out.
From: Keegan Baldwin [email protected]
To: Luna Oliver [email protected]
Date: October 18
Change of plans. We are splurging on a hotel.
It feels good to wear clothes that aren’t scrubs or sweatpants, even if it is only because I’m going to Forest’s place for our family dinner. During my first two weeks in New York, I’ve barely seen anything outside of my apartment and the hospital. Every day is the same, and I’ve never had to use my brain like I am now. It literally hurts by the time I get home after my shifts. I keep reminding myself that life won’t always be like this, but right now, being a first-year resident is my entire life.
“You look nice.” Myles glances up from his bowl of cereal as I walk into the kitchen. “Like someone definitely not heading to the hospital.”
“And it feels so good.”
I look down at my sundress. My roommates and I joke that the moment we come home from the hospital, we put on our apartment uniform. Myles can always be found in a ratty red Stanford shirt, the white letters falling off, and a pair of sweatpants. Raven wears an Emory University shirt with scrub bottoms, and I can usually be found in a bright gold University of Minnesota shirt and scrub pants. We are poster children for the places where we studied medicine.
Myles stands and rinses his bowl in the sink. “Any fun plans on your night off?”
“I’m going to my brother’s place for dinner. So the word fun is debatable.”
Raven walks out of her bedroom, arms stretched in the air, her hair on top of her head, with pillow marks on her cheek. “Is it just you and your brother?” She pulls out a stool and sits. “And when do I get to meet this brother of yours?”
“Soon I hope.” I lean against the counter, facing them. “My brother’s best friend who we grew up with will be there too.”
I’ve gotten to know Myles and Raven quite a bit in the past couple of weeks of living together. They couldn’t be easier roommates, although my bar is low. When a dish is used, it’s washed. When the bathroom floor gets wet from the shower, it’s mopped up. When it gets late, the lights are out. And so far, they put up with my messiness, even though I am trying my best not to bring that part of me into this apartment. But we’re all still getting to know each other, so I haven’t talked much about my brother, and not at all about Keegan.
Raven rests her head in her hands. “And your hometown friend lives in New York? Small world.”
“Is he a doctor too?” Myles leans against the sink and dries his hands.
Myles and Raven look at me expectantly, and I nod.
A mischievous grin takes over Raven’s face. “I’m so curious. Tell us everything.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” I say. “Dr. Baldwin is a cardiothoracic surgeon. Keegan. He works at Presby too.”
Raven slaps her hand down on the counter. “The Dr. Baldwin who was on call this week in the ER.” Raven’s tongue flicks out to wet her lips. “He’s a childhood friend of yours?”
“I guess.” I fold my arms over my chest. “I mean, he’s really my brother’s friend more than mine.”
Myles’s lips turn up, and Raven leans toward me even farther and says, “You do know that pretty much every female at the hospital calls him beautiful Baldwin.”
An intense warmth spreads across my face, causing it to flush. I’m starting to understand the nickname. I wish I didn’t. “I wasn’t aware.”
“I’ve even heard the nurses gathered around the station talking about him,” Myles says. “How do I meet this guy? Cardiothoracic has been the only route I’ve been interested in from day one.”
I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and then smooth out my dress. “To me, he’s just Keegan. My brother’s best friend. And by some twist of fate, we all ended up in the same city.”
Raven puts her face in her palm and pouts while looking at Myles. “I guess it’s just you and me tonight, kid.”
But Myles shakes his head and points to our group calendar that hangs by the door. “Sorry Raven. My overnight shift starts in about two hours, and I’m on for twenty-four hours.”
“Well, okay,” Raven says, getting up from the stool. “I guess I’m on my own tonight.”
“I really need to go.” I throw a few things into my bag. “But the next time we have a night off at the same time, we’re going out. It makes no sense that we live in this amazing city but don’t see more of it.”
“I’m holding you to that,” Raven says. “And say hi to beautiful Baldwin for me.”
“Not if you keep calling him that.” I hold the door open and give them a wave. “See you later.”
The subway station holds all the heat of this hot summer day, like a furnace, making the atmosphere almost unbearable. But I’m adamant that I will learn my way around it because it is the most economical option. I purchase my ticket, my clothes already sticking to my skin with perspiration, and I board the train that will take me from my apartment on the Upper East side to Forest’s in the Chelsea neighborhood. Unless I get on the wrong train. Then I’m headed downtown.
Heels are a thing of the past because living in New York requires so much walking. I get off at the closest stop and find my way to Forest’s low-rise apartment. His building is a lot fancier than mine, and when I arrive, a doorman rings Forest to come down and let me up.
“Hey, kiddo.” Forest walks across the expansive lobby of his building and hugs me, pulling out the name he used to call me. “Fashionably late once again.”
“Yeah, well.” I look down at my outfit. “I’m trying to figure out this public transportation thing.”
Forest hits the button to his floor. “I remember feeling like that when I first got here.” He holds the door for me when we reach his floor. “It gets easier.”
I clasp my arm around his. “Are you cooking anything good?”
“Takeout, Luna.” Forest raises his eyebrows and then laughs. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”
Forest swings his door open, the hinges creaking slightly, and ushers me inside. As I enter the apartment, I see Keegan, who leans against the window, book in hand. He glances at me, pushing his glasses up his nose. They’re back, but no longer the broken, taped-together ones he used to wear. No. These somehow only magnify his eyes. For a moment, his gaze lingers on me, his eyes intense and unwavering, making me feel momentarily off-balance. Keegan swiftly closes his book and strides across the room, his footsteps echoing against the wooden floorboards. The space between us rapidly shrinks.
“Luna.” He reaches me, and I take him in too. Beautiful Baldwin. I laugh inside thinking of a bunch of nurses sitting around fawning over him. He smells good—nothing strong, but like he only recently showered.
“You look—” he begins to say, but I cut him off.
“Like I need a drink to cool off from this heat.” My hair sticks to the back of my neck, and although I had the best intentions of wearing it down for once, I grab the elastic band around my wrist and tie my hair up.
Forest opens his fridge and hands me a cold beer, and then he grabs a few menus that are on the counter. “What are we craving? Indian? Thai? Chinese? Vietnamese?”
“I’d like something lighter in this heat.” Keegan takes the menus out of Forest’s hands. “There’s a great new sandwich place I’ve been wanting to try around the corner.”
“Sandwiches?” Forest scrunches up his face. “I’ve been craving Indian.”
“That’s so heavy.” Keegan shrugs and looks at me. “But if that’s what you want.”
“Indian it is.” Forest claps his hands together before anyone waits for me to weigh in.
After I open my beer, I hold the bottle against my neck and then take a long and slow drink.
“Oh, hey man,” Forest says, grabbing a beer, and handing one to Keegan. “How’d my patient fare that came in for a routine physical and then ended up getting the quadruple bypass the same day?”
When Keegan hears the mention of the exciting surgical case, a sparkle illuminates his eyes, and he leans forward, joining in the conversation. Meanwhile, I take my beer and make my way over to the couch, inwardly groaning at the predictability of their behavior as I once again fall into third-wheel territory.
“Is this what you guys do when you get together?” I take a seat on the couch, away from them at the table. “Talk about work the entire time?”
Instead of fading into the background, I find my opening. “Because if that’s what we’re going to do, let me tell you about the patient that came in after her bachelorette party that had an unidentified foreign object up her vagina.”
Keegan and Forest’s eyes shoot to me like they’re remembering that I’m here for the first time. “She had no recollection of putting anything up there. It was quite the extraction process and ended up being the head of a Barbie.”
Keegan raises his eyebrows so sharply that they could cut into layers of skin better than a scalpel.
Forest starts laughing and says, “Okay. We can discuss other things too. How are you? How are your roommates? Are you picking up after yourself, or are you still Lazy Luna?”
I roll my eyes at the nickname. He’s called me that ever since I was little. “So, I’m a tad messy. I own it.”
“A tad?” Forest shakes his head. “Girl, you’re a disaster. Your bedroom door back at home wouldn’t even open because of all the crap you had on the floor.”
“Yeah,” Keegan nods his head. “I remember that too. And I swear you’ve never made a bed in your life.”
I grab a couch cushion and throw it in their general direction, but it falls short and lands on the floor.
“See. My point exactly,” Forest says. “Already making a mess in my apartment.”
A pager vibrates against the table, and Forest grabs it. “Ugh. I was told there would be almost a zero percent chance I’d get paged tonight.”
He grabs his phone and goes to the other room, while Keegan and I stare at each other in silence. I open my mouth to fill the space, but then Forest comes back.
“I have to go in.” Forest gathers his things. “I’m so sorry. Make yourselves at home. Order food. Drink my beer. Catch up. Do whatever. I’ll reschedule this.”
Keegan and I look at each other uncomfortably after Forest rushes out of the apartment.
“Umm,” he says, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his shorts as he stands. “Are you hungry?”
I glance down at my phone as if that will save me. “Yes. But it’s Saturday night. I’m sure you have places to be. I’ll head home and order food, and now you can try that new sandwich place. Food without Forest bossing you around like he always does.”
“Forest doesn’t boss me around,” Keegan says. “And I don’t have plans tonight.”
A jolt of surprise courses through, and I freeze in place. I slowly turn my head to face him, my eyes wide. Keegan calmly reaches behind his body and pulls out his phone from his back pocket, his fingers deftly navigating the screen before he tucks it away again.
“Do you want to go out and grab a bite?” Keegan studies me, his face tilted, his thick but manicured eyebrows doing all the asking. “Or do you want to eat here?”
“No,” I say. “I mean, I don’t want to eat here. Let’s get out. I’ve barely seen the city.”
“Yeah?” Keegan holds the door open, and I start getting nervous at the thought of having to spend one-on-one time with him. “If you’re sure.”
I slip past him and walk out into the hallway. “I’m sure.”
We ride the elevator down in complete silence. The only sound is the soft humming of the air conditioning. I am acutely aware of the sound of my heartbeat, which seems to be racing so fast that it feels like it could burst out of my chest at any moment.
I can’t shake off the feeling of being hyper-aware of Keegan’s presence, and the fact that we are alone in this confined space only intensifies my unease. We’ve never had a relationship where we hung out outside of Forest or my parents. Not having Forest with us throws off the balance.
When the elevator opens, he holds the door and lets me get out first. We walk into the late afternoon sun and pause. We have no idea where we’re going. I regret saying I could eat, as I’m oddly nervous.
“What are you hungry for?” Keegan stares down at me. And because I am wearing flats, he towers over my frame.
“Well.” I hold my hands up to my mouth and tap my finger against my lips. It’s a nervous habit like all the answers in this world live in that bottom lip of mine. “I’ve been dying to try street food.”
“Street food?” Keegan’s lips fall into a straight line.
“You asked.” I tuck loose strands of hair behind my ears. “And isn’t New York kind of famous for that?”
“Street food?” He stares at my hand still fiddling with my hair. “I could take you to a nice restaurant and we could enjoy something good, but you want street food?”
“Yes.” I nod, ignoring the way he’s watching me. “We’re in Chelsea. Why don’t we try Chelsea Eats? I heard they have a lot of great vendors. I saw a flier for it at the hospital.”
Keegan shrugs and starts walking down the street, and I follow. I glance up at him, admiring the dark-rimmed glasses that he wears. When my skin warms, I force myself to look away.
We walk a couple of blocks in silence as I take in this new neighborhood. The streets are lined with mature trees, and we stroll past beautiful brownstones, protected by dark, iron rod fences. When we reach a subway stop, people pool onto the street from underground, and I move out of the way as they walk between Keegan and me.
And then Chelsea Eats comes into view. There are a few food trucks parked along the streets, as well as some white tents with vendors. The overwhelming aroma smacks me in the face. I smell spices, meat, and hot oil. I stop at the first tent I see that is selling street tacos.
“Yes.” I point decisively. “This is what I want. They smell so good.”
Keegan rolls his eyes at me. “The first vendor? You don’t want to look around?”
I lick my lips, and Keegan’s eyes move to them. “A girl knows what she wants. This is it.” I start fumbling through my bag for money.
Keegan puts his hands over mine, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity through my spine. I’m a doctor. There’s only one explanation. It’s probably nothing more than nerve branches entering the dermis from the subcutaneous fat forming both a superficial and deep nerve plexus. Because the only chemistry I believe in is the kind I learned in medical school.
“Let me pay.” Keegan reaches for his wallet. “Residents don’t make shit.”
“That was a bit patriarchal.” I shake my head. “I can afford to buy myself food.”
Keegan reaches into his back pocket. “I’m sure you can. But please. I’d like to buy you dinner. Even if it is shitty street food.”
I notice the subtle movement of his lips as they twitch at the corners in a way that seems almost involuntarily like he’s trying to suppress a smile.
Keegan and I sit on a nearby bench with our food. He ordered the same thing I did. I take a bite of my first taco, and it’s delicious and everything that street food should be. I close my eyes and listen to all the people around me in this great big city and let out a moan.
When I open my eyes, Keegan is staring at me. He then scrunches up his face. “Do you know how much bacteria are in street food? I hope you don’t end up in the ER tonight with a case of E. coli or Salmonella.”
“Look at you.” I take another bite as he watches me, and I wipe the hot sauce off the corner of my lip with my thumb, and then stick it in my mouth. “Talking all dirty to me.”
A flush of color peeks out underneath Keegan’s shirt, and spreads up his neck, and then face. I make him nervous. For some reason, the thought both thrills and calms me. I grab his hand that holds a taco and bring it to his mouth.
“Do it, Keegan. Take a bite. You know you want to.”
He looks at me, and for the first time, he smiles—opened mouthed, full teeth, and happy eyes. And then he bites into his taco, closes his eyes, and savors the bite.
“Okay, Luna.” He covers his mouth as he chews his food, and I pull my hand back and watch him. “It’s not bad.” He grabs a napkin and wipes the corners of his mouth.
I press my shoulder into his. “You’ve lived in New York for years, but have you even lived?”
He takes another bite, but his eyes watch me from above his taco. “I can say with certainty that I haven’t.”
After eating, we take the subway back to our neighborhood. A busker sits on the concrete playing a saxophone, and a small crowd gathers to listen. I buy a funnel cake from a pop-up food truck.
“How can you eat like that and look like—” Keegan’s eyes flick to my body, and he shakes his head, but he doesn’t continue.
Keegan then points at my paper plate, as I wipe powdered sugar off my face. “As a heart surgeon, I feel obligated to tell you how bad these things are for you.”
“You are a buzzkill.” I tear off a small piece of the warm, sugary funnel cake, and hold it out towards Keegan, offering it to him with a small smile. Any unease I felt earlier has dissipated. For a moment, he hesitates, his gaze locked onto mine as if weighing some unspoken decision. Then without warning, he reaches out and takes my hand, bringing it up to his mouth in one fluid movement. He eats the funnel cake, his lips brushing gently against my fingers in the process.
Words escape me at first, as we stand, watching each other. But then I laugh. “Wow, Keegan. Who even are you? I’m kind of impressed.”
“For clogging up my arteries?” He takes his thumb and rubs the corner of his mouth. “You are going to be a bad influence on me, aren’t you?
“I call it spontaneous.”
We reach my building, and Keegan squeezes the back of his neck and says, “I guess that’s a word for it.”
His lips twitch at the corners, and I shrug. “I’d rather be spontaneous than be boring.”
Keegan drops his hand from his neck and tilts his head to the side. “You think I’m boring?”
I ponder that thought for a moment. I don’t know him well enough to have an opinion. “Maybe not boring but definitely safe.”
“You’re right.” He nods. He studies me so intently, that the city disappears around us. I run my hand over my face, sure that I must have something stuck to it.
“It’s never too late to start taking some risks.” I smile and reach my arm out to his but then pull back. I lean against the door frame and something in his expression changes.
“Maybe I will.” Keegan’s chest expands as he takes a deep breath. “Speaking of safe. I should get to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.”
And then Keegan walks away. My mind races, filling me up until I’m consumed. Keegan has always been Forest’s, but surprisingly, I had fun tonight. These new feelings confuse me because we’re not just friends or acquaintances. We are family, and that’s the only way we’ve ever seen each other. But tonight, I felt seen by him. In ways I don’t when Forest is around.