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“I’m gonna spear your ass next if you don’t get to work, Prince Charming.”
“Easy now. I might like that,” he chuckled.
“Just stake the damn dog, wise guy.”
I focused on the flames of the fire as they danced in orange, yellow, and red hues around the hot dog I held over them. It was funny how such an insignificant act could bring about such a flood of happy childhood memories, camping with my family.
“Penny for your thoughts, beautiful?”
I glanced up, grinning at John through the smoke from the fire.
“I’m damn proud of you, Aster,” I teased, using his last name as I would if we were at work and he’d accomplished something there.
“Don’t give me that Aster shit. What are you thinking about over there? Your mind is elsewhere, and I’m just hoping it’s not with another man.”
I subtly rolled my eyes at his constant fake jealousy these days. “What if it is?” I taunted, not really wanting to get too personal about family life with this guy.
“Then I’d be forced to abandon this hot wiener I’m roasting and get your mind back on me,” he said, spinning his stick like a rotisserie on high speed.
“I think you’re barely managing that wiener,” I nodded toward his hot dog. “I don’t think I should say anything to make you hurt yourself.”
“Funny,” he said as his hot dog caught fire, laughing while he shook the damn thing to put it out.
“Jesus,” I said, popping up to help him. “You know, I always wondered how these mega-fires started out here. I never thought it had anything to do with dipshits like you trying to get a day in for camping.”
“That’s not fair,” he said. “And I blame your cute ass for all of this. I was just fine grilling on my new stove over there.”
“I should’ve let you,” I teased, walking with him to where the buns awaited us. “But sadly, I gave you too much credit, believing you could roast a hot dog as easily as you deliver a baby, Doc.”
“Easy,” he said, arching an eyebrow at me. “So, speaking of delivering babies. What pushed you into this direction of medicine?”
“Meh,” I answered while we put condiments on our hot dogs and grabbed handfuls of chips to complement them on our paper plates. “It just seemed rewarding, I guess. I loved the idea of working with women and reproductive health.”
He nodded. “There really wasn’t any great eye-opening moment that led me down this path, and I have no great stories to tell that would lead me here, either,” he said. Knowing what I knew and remembered hearing in med school, many doctors and surgeons did have pivotal moments in their lives that led them toward their different professions, so it was always interesting to see how each of us chose our field.
“Same here.” I smiled, grabbed a Coca-Cola can, and returned to my seat. “Do you have any regrets for choosing this profession?”
I watched him sit down across from me and shrug while taking a massive bite of the hot dog that he was so annoyed about having to eat earlier, thanks to good-old Matthew.
“No regrets,” he said after swallowing the bite of almost half his hot dog. “Though, I guess if I were forced to say something I didn’t like about this profession, it would be that sometimes I don’t find it challenging enough?”
“That’s interesting, given you are working in Oncology too?”
He nodded while munching on chips, “I’m not saying that it isn’t challenging. I just like to be kept on my toes, guessing, and firing on all cylinders in my brain.”
I chuckled, “From the looks of the camping gear, I would never guess in a million years that you liked a good challenge?”
“Ah,” he laughed, taking another bite of his hot dog. “She burns my ass again.”
“You set yourself up for all the shit I’m giving you, and I hope you know that,” I acknowledged.
“You know, that good ol’ boy, Farmer Fred back there?”
Who the Fuck?
“Farmer who?”
“You know, Huckleberry Joe?”
