Radclyffe - Love On Call

“None more than for herself,” Abby said, “but you meet them just fine. Oh, by the way, Presley reminded me to let you know you’re invited to the wedding. She just assumed you knew that, and then realized you ought to get a formal invitation. Consider this formal.”

“Oh, but I hardly know anyone!”

“Hey, you’re part of the planning committee now. You have to be there.”

“Then yes,” Mari said softly, “I’d love to come.”

“Great! Carrie will fill you in on the specifics.” Abby waved and turned to go. “Have fun this weekend.”

Mari didn’t answer. She didn’t have the energy to pretend any longer.

*

Mari changed into jeans, a lime-green ribbed tank top, and sneakers in the locker room and tried not to look for Glenn as she walked through the ER on her way out. She couldn’t really help herself, even though Glenn wasn’t on call and, of course, was not around. Hope was hardest to kill when you didn’t actually want to feel any.

Traffic was heavier than usual on a weekend morning, and as she approached the unofficial commons, a grassy three-square-block area in the center of town where people frequently sunbathed or sat about on blankets picnicking or simply relaxing, a huge red hot-air balloon with brilliant blue and yellow stripes lofted into the sky. A roar went up from somewhere just ahead and drew her in that direction. The quiet commons had been transformed. A carnival-like atmosphere encompassed the place—adults congregated with cups of coffee while dogs and children ran about. Food tents offering hot breakfasts, fresh baked goods, and luscious-looking fruit ringed half the square, and half a dozen balloons in various stages of inflation were tethered in the center. A big sign announced the two-day balloon festival. She didn’t know how she’d missed news of the event, but working nights had given her a good excuse to avoid everyone all week.

Now the tantalizing smell of bacon frying drew her to a tent, and she purchased an egg and bacon sandwich on a fresh-baked biscuit. She actually felt hungry for the first time in a week.

“Thanks,” she said, balancing the sandwich in one hand and a cardboard cup of coffee in the other. She turned and almost stumbled into Glenn. “Oh!”

Glenn jumped back, avoiding the coffee slosh. “Hi. You okay? Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“No, I’m fine. Hi.” Mari stared just to make sure Glenn wasn’t an apparition, considering how hard she’d been wishing she’d run into her. She was dressed in running shorts and a sleeveless V-neck T-shirt. Her hair was damp, her skin lightly misted, and the T-shirt plastered to her chest. She’d been running hard. “Hi.”

God, she was repeating herself.

“I saw you across the field,” Glenn said. “Just get off shift?”

“Uh-huh.” Mari stepped out of the way of a man and woman who wanted to order breakfast.

“Well, I guess I should let you go,” Glenn said awkwardly, backing up a step. “You must be tired.”

“No,” Mari said quickly, “I’m not. I was just getting something to eat. You want something?”

Glenn hesitated and Mari thought she was about to say no. But she nodded after a second. “Yeah, sure if you could lend me some money. I’m light today.”

“My treat. Bacon and eggs okay?”

“Actually,” Glenn said, breaking into a grin, “it sounds fabulous.”

Mari handed over hers. “Here. Take this one. I’ll get another. Coffee?”

“Yeah, please. I’ll grab us a table over by the trees.”

“Great. Just be a sec.” Mari turned away quickly so she didn’t give herself away. Excitement raced through her and she knew her delight in running into Glenn was written all over her face. She really didn’t want to repeat her meltdown of the week before. Really, really didn’t.

*

Mari carried the sandwich and two fresh cups of coffee back to the wooden picnic table Glenn had staked out beneath two tall pine trees. The little shade was welcome. The day promised to be hot and was getting there fast. The square was even more crowded than twenty minutes before. The bright sunny day seemed so fresh and simple. Or maybe she was just happy. Whatever the cause, she intended to enjoy it.

She also intended to enjoy the fact Glenn watched her as she walked toward her. The press of Glenn’s gaze slid over her face and down her body and made her tingle. She loved the way Glenn looked at her, as if she was the only person on Glenn’s horizon. Foolish, she knew, but the feeling of being so central, so valued, struck a chord in her that made her whole body hum.

“Here—let me help.” Glenn rose and took one of the coffees. “I owe you big-time for this.”

“I’ll have to think of some suitable method of repayment,” Mari teased.

Glenn paused, her half-eaten sandwich in her hand. “You do that.”

Mari blushed and pretended to be busy with the sandwich she no longer cared if she ate. Her hunger had suddenly shifted to something far more visceral, and far more dangerous. Glenn looked so damn sexy she ached to touch her.

They sat across from one another, the coffee and sandwiches between them, and ate in silence for a few minutes. The silence felt anything but empty. Mari imagined she could feel the very air crackling between them as if at any moment sparks might burst and jump from her skin to Glenn’s.

“How did you find the night shift?” Glenn asked.

Thankfully, a safe topic. “About what I expected. Eleven o’clock seems to be the witching hour until about one. And then of course, at six it starts all over again. I kind of liked it. I felt really in charge.”

Glenn nodded. “There’s something different about nights. It’s not just the stillness that comes over the hospital, because it’s just as busy, really, but there’s always this sense of anticipation underneath the calm. That anything could come through the door at any minute, and you’re it. It’s all on you.”

“You like that, don’t you? The anticipation. The not knowing what will test you next.”

“You’d think I would’ve learned not to look for that kind of thing, wouldn’t you, but I never lost it. Even when what was coming might kill me, I had that buzz of excitement.”

Mari caught her breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest you enjoyed that kind of danger.”

“It’s okay. I don’t have nightmares about it, at least not when I’m sleeping.”

“But when you’re awake?”

Glenn sighed. “Not even that so much. You don’t have to dream about what you carry around with you. It’s always just there. This itch between your shoulder blades that something’s coming, something you can’t stop, something you might not be able to fix.”

“Are you afraid?”

Glenn’s brows drew down. “No. Maybe angry.” She scoffed. “I’d just like to be able to see what I’m fighting, and that never really happens.”

“Maybe that’s why you like to spend so much time in the emergency room. Because then you know. It’s right there and you can see it.”

“You might be right. But I’m not really sure it matters.”

“No, neither am I. You’ve taken something that you shouldn’t have to live with and turned it into something positive. I’m sorry that you’ve had to do that, but I think you should be proud.”

“Thanks.” Glenn stared down at her hands clasping the cup. “It matters what you think.”

“I think you’re amazing,” Mari said softly.

“Do you have plans this morning?”

The question threw her and she didn’t have an answer, so she didn’t try to think, she just went with what felt right. “No. I’m not working again until Monday. Then I’m switching back to days. I suppose my biggest plans for the day were laundry and vacuuming my rug. It’s a pretty small rug.”