Authors: Charlotte Swanpol
Jade
As Jade walked through the big, automatic doors to the hospital, she fought to stifle a huge grin.
You’re in a hospital, stupid,
she thought.
Don’t look too excited.
Marching up to the reception desk, she couldn’t help her smile as she announced to the extremely pregnant, mousy-haired woman beyond, “My name is Jade Evans. I’m here for my first day!”
Her nametag read Susan, and though it’s what she said, she looked anything but pleased to meet her. Introducing herself, the woman teetered out of her chair and onto her feet.
“I apologize if I seem grouchy,” Susan croaked, shaking Jade’s hand. “Trust me; I’m happy you’re here. The sooner we get you trained, the sooner I get to start my maternity leave. It’s just, this baby has been using my bladder like a punching bag, and the other receptionist hasn’t shown up yet.”
As if waiting for her cue, a young girl waltzed in, large mocha Frappuccino in hand, and took her place behind the desk. Her highlighted blonde hair lay impeccably styled, her makeup casually screamed red-carpet affair, and though she wore skin-tight yoga pants with her bubblegum pink scrub top, Jade knew that the girl hadn’t needed to exercise a day in her life.
“Good morning, Alexa, thank you for showing up,” Susan lectured. “Though, I’m surprised. You were very nearly on time, today!”
“Oh, you know,” the girl sang. “I like to keep you on your toes – it’s funny to watch you waddle on them.”
Susan sighed and Jade released a fist she hadn’t realize she’d clenched. “If you don’t mind waiting a moment,” Susan implored through a forced smile. “I’m going to run to the restroom, and then I’ll give you the grand tour!”
Slowly but surely, Susan showed Jade around the hospital, introducing her to everyone they encountered, nurse, doctor, or department head, alike. In her opinion, it was easier to put a face to a name if you’d actually seen the face. Despite the initial impression, Susan really was a lovely woman. This was her second pregnancy, a little girl, which she was excited for after the hellion her son turned out to be. Terrible Twos, indeed.
Jade knew the hospital was large, several stories to be sure, and set on several acres, but the real meaning of large began to settle over her understanding like a shroud. Throughout the sixty-minute tour, Jade met forty-seven nurses spanning nine specialties, the heads of Radiology, Neurology, and Endocrinology, two anesthesiologists, and one Leukemia patient named Tom whose spirits appeared quite high, despite being deemed terminal.
By the time the pair returned to the walk-in clinic, Jade’s head was spinning with names and information; her mind was as cluttered as the waiting room had become. As quickly as she could, Susan tottered back to her chair and worked her way through the queue. Alexa had seemingly become overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of the hypochondriacally-inclined seniors, and even muttered a begrudging “Thank you” to her coworker. Susan’s smile of acknowledgement was so brief, Jade wasn’t sure she actually saw it.
Not wanting to get in the way, or interrupt such a surprisingly genuine moment between the two, Jade stood off to the side, taking in all she could about the processes she’d soon be learning. In this time, she learned that she’d also be in charge of answering general queries, as well as assisting those in the clinic. She would act as the conduit between anyone that walked through the front door and the information they sought.
I may not be nursing, yet
, she thought, excitedly.
But I still get to help people!
She paid close attention to the women behind the desk, soaking up as much as she could. By the eleventh or twelfth interaction, however, it all seemed pretty standard – monotonous, even. Still half-listening, she indulged her mind in a wander about her surroundings.
She considered the waiting room chairs, sturdy and practical in design, with a flare of creativity thrown into the patterned canvas covering the padded seats. She studied the walls around the room, smooth and eggshell white. She learned the pattern of the black and white floor tiles, and the flourishes and curlicues in the floor mat in front of the sliding glass doors.
A pair of black leather dress shoes broke her concentration as they appeared on the mat, dusting off each sole before proceeding. Jade decided, for the moment, to declare a new major, and began studying the new arrival. Above the black wingtips hung finely pressed, light-grey slacks held up by a black leather belt. The dark charcoal dress shirt was tucked in, but an air of whimsy was lent by the grey herringbone blazer that hung open down the front. What was surely an expensive watch glinted on a suntanned wrist, catching the fluorescence as it was turned upward. Her eyes pressed on, committing every detail to memory, as they made their way further up. Eager, yet hesitant, to see the face behind such an incredibly immaculate outfit, Jade steeled her resolve and ventured a glance.
Her first look at this man was brief, yet it could have turned her to stone. He began to walk away, and Jade stammered in silent desperation, but thankfully a young nurse approached him with a file folder, arresting his departure for a moment. Aware and careless of her gawking, Jade took in his firm, clean-shaven jaw, his luscious, down-turned lips. She noted curls evident in his hair, even though it was tied neatly in a bun at his neck. She delighted in the constellations of dark freckles, spreading from cheekbone to cheekbone across a strong, straight nose, adding a boyish charm to his rugged handsomeness. But beyond these features, which she already knew she’d have a difficult time forgetting, lay a pair of eyes unlike anything she’d ever seen. Maybe it was the different shades of grey beneath, or the tousle of black above; maybe it was the contrast of his beautifully tanned skin that made his green eyes pop, but all she knew was if green eyes were rare to begin with, his were the only ones of their kind. They were bright, but at the same time had a depth to them, depth beyond their color; a quiet consideration. Though his demeanor remained unchanged, his eyes sparkled with the laughter of an unspoken joke. There was something almost crystalline about them, like jewels nestled in desert sands. Like –
“Jade!” Susan called from her place behind the desk, and Jade felt her whole body stiffen. It was bad enough that she had been startled out of some ridiculous reverie, on her first day, by her superior. It was made worse by the fact that, at the sound of her name, the man turned to catch her mid-creep.
A moment earlier that quiet consideration was revered; now, turned on her, it felt like stern scrutiny. She felt her embarrassment color her cheeks, and her desire to turn away was all-consuming, yet she stood there, frozen, unable to move. He blinked, and the sparkle was back, a glimmer of a smirk brushed his lips.
“Good morning, Doctor Azevedo!” crooned Alexa, and he raised a hand in acknowledgement before returning his attention to the nurse at his side. Released from her trance, Jade turned slowly; she walked back to the desk as nonchalantly as she could. She knew Susan was talking to her, knew that she should be listening intently to every syllable that was said, but she was too focused on calming her heart down, pacing her breathing; her blood was on fire. Susan gestured to Alexa, and suddenly Jade was very aware of the fact that her cartoon kitten scrubs were very snug against her curves.
“Here you go!” Susan smiled, dropping a stack of forms on the counter in front of Jade. “If you have any questions, Alexa can help you fill them out.” And she toddled off in the opposite direction, muttering about punching bags. Upon further inspection, Jade realized that they were her employee files – tax forms, emergency contacts, and other information required by Human Resources. Relieved she hadn’t missed any vital information, she proceeded to fill out the forms, hoping Alexa would do her the justice of ignoring the moments before. With two forms to go, her hopes were dashed to pieces.
“He sure is handsome, isn’t he?” Alexa sighed.
Though she know she needn’t ask, Jade took the bait, “Who?”
“Owen – I mean, Doctor Azevedo. Isn’t he a hottie?”
Despite her better judgement, Jade conceded to a quick glance. Much to her dismay, Doctor Owen Azevedo had left, likely to get on with his day and recover from his experience with such a sloppy sleuth.
A sad and lustful smile confused her as she replied, “Yes, he really is quite handsome.”
Owen
In the locker room, Owen set out a fresh pair of scrubs before changing out of his second pair. He knew some of his colleagues thought it unnecessary, but he liked to shower between surgeries. He found showers invigorating, stimulating. They kept his mind sharp. Especially since the first two lumpectomies went so smoothly, he had an extra hour with which he chose to indulge himself with a shower. The hot water beat down on him with surprising fervor, and he felt his muscles loosen as his mind began to wander.
Next is Mrs. Goldstein, lumpectomy from the right breast
, he thought. A smile flitted across his lips as a memory settled in his mind; the memory of a wonderfully full-figured girl with an easy smile and animated cats on her scrubs. He shook his head; that was hours ago, now.
After that is Mr. Harris’ carotid endarterectomy.
Again, he smiled, thinking of beautiful brown hair, pulled back in a long ponytail to reveal high cheekbones and eyes like the ocean after a storm, amplified by the coloring of her cheeks.
Was she embarrassed?
he wondered.
Did she catch me looking at her when I walked in? If anything, I should be embarrassed
. Once more, Owen shook his head. Sure, she was a pretty girl – and those eyes, good God – but there were lots of pretty girls in the world. Right now, he needed to focus.
He needed to focus on the task at hand, not the idea of her hand on his cheek. He needed to focus on the lumpectomy of Mrs. Goldstein’s right breast, not his curiosity about his new coworker’s ample bosom. He needed to focus on Mr. Harris’ clogged artery, not on the ferocity with which his blood coursed through his veins.
“Enough!” Owen shouted into the shower stall, the echo a poignant punctuation. Frustrated, he finished his rinse and began his third toweling-off of the day.
A sheepish “Doctor Azevedo?” rang through the empty change room as Owen pulled over the clean scrub top.
“Be right out,” he called, tying and knotting the bottoms. He locked his belongings into his cubby, and took one last look in the mirror, sighing before walking out to greet the nurse awaiting him.
They weren’t far from the O.R., but the entire time he found himself shaking his head and huffing – so much so that the nurse asked if he was all right. He nodded politely, and managed to keep his sighs at bay for the remainder of the trip. Despite his earlier frustration, and the fact that they were loose-fitting scrub pants, no matter how well it was hidden, Owen couldn’t help hoping that his erection was, in fact, caused by the beautiful new receptionist.
***
Lounging on the sofa, a cold beer in hand, Owen sought escape from a hectic day in the form of a TiVoed soccer game. He regretted that he couldn’t be with his friends to watch it live that evening, but he felt at ease knowing he’d made a difference in the world that day. Not only did his four scheduled surgeries go splendidly, but so did the emergency pericardiectomy that was sprung on him. Warm self-satisfaction was moving its way through his body, bumming a ride with the ice-cold lager at his lips.
He recalled the buxom receptionist, her full pout and gunmetal eyes, and though he normally didn’t dwell on biological happenstance, he settled into another indulgence for the day. The girl wasn’t necessarily his “type”; to say he had a type would be to say he had time to date, but something about her caught his attention and refused to set it free. He needed to meet her, to look into her eyes and learn what they hid. And then a thought struck him – curiosity. There are a lot of pretty girls in the world, he had thought, and it remained true. But what set this girl apart was that he was curious about her. So many women, like that Alexa girl, were as deep as a dish of water. This one, this new one, had depth. There was something tragic about her, about her unease; he recognized it all too well.
The ring of his doorbell brought him back to reality. The confusion that painted his face was magnified when he opened the door.
“Karla,” Owen whispered. “What are you doing here?”
“Very funny, Owen,” she smiled, gesturing to the four-year-old asleep in her arms, and the car seat in her hand. She moved to enter the house, and he backed up to let her.
“I didn’t know I was that funny,” he murmured. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“Owen, you said you’d take them tonight,” Karla grunted, handing Owen the slumbering lad. “I have a date, remember?”
“You know I don’t want to hear about this,” he insisted. “I love spending time with Marcelo and Marta, taking care of them. I love them with all my heart, and nothing would ever change that, but you and I both know it’s too soon for this.”
“I’m not having this fight with you again, Owen,” Karla breathed. “It doesn’t matter what you think, this is just something I need to do. For me.” Eyes glistening, she huffed, blinking back tears.
“Look, they’re already sleeping so the tough part is over. And if this is as terrible an idea as you seem to think it is, I should be back to pick them up in less than two hours. But if it’s not, there are changes of clothes in this duffel bag, and I’ll swing by to pick them up before you go to work.”
Staring down at her, and feeling the steady rise and fall of the tiny chest upon his, he saw how much she was hurting; saw the resigned desperation to move on. Owen sighed, and nodded.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too,” she answered, smiling sadly back at him.
She brushed her lips quickly on the cheek of both gentlemen, then on the forehead of her daughter, still sleeping sweetly in the car seat, and shut the door behind her.
Owen stood there for a moment, biting back a bellow of frustration. He hadn’t been lying; he loved those kids with everything he had, and more. He was paying for their food, their clothes, for the roof over their heads, and he didn’t miss a penny of it. He wanted to provide for them, and help raise them to be intelligent, well-adjusted, contributing members of society. They didn’t need a mom who dumped them on his doorstep every time she “connected” with a guy in the produce section. They needed a dad.
If there hadn’t been two sleeping children in the house, let alone one in his arms, Owen swore he would have punched a hole through the wall.