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My surgeries go well. The skin grafts are successful and quick, and Dr. Garza tells me to let one of the fourth years finish up my second case. I yank off my surgical gown and gloves and rinse off in the locker room. After I change into a fresh pair of scrubs, I hesitate before throwing my hair into a ponytail and instead take the time to braid it.
When I head back to Jade’s room—prepared to make good on my promise to sit with her while I do my post-op notes—I find her out in the hall instead, having swapped her hospital gown for a new set of pajamas. The pants are a little long, but Connor’s bent down on one knee, rolling up the extra length so she doesn’t trip over it.
“Thanks for my new ’jamas,” Jade says, looking down at him while he continues arranging the hems.
I know the pajamas came from the gift shop; I’ve seen them hanging in the window display all month. Did he go down there himself? Did he stand there in front of the rack, trying to decipher kid sizing and guessing what Jade might fit into? Why does that make my chest ache?
“Okay, that should do it,” he says, pushing back up to stand. He straightens his white coat over his navy scrubs, and are we all just supposed to not swoon here? How, pray tell?
Jade catches sight of me on the spot in which I stand frozen some odd yards away from them and she holds up her new stuffed mermaid, another purchase from the gift shop, perhaps.
“Look! She looks just like you!” she says, holding up the doll with its brown braid. “I named her Natalie.”
Of course she says it like “Natawee” and all right everyone, let’s cool it. My heart is a puddle on the floor. It’s hopeless, really. I need to back away slowly and save my emotions now. I can’t though, because Jade is looking up at me with expectant eyes and I’ll pretty much do whatever she wants me to.
I tell her how much I love the mermaid’s sparkly tail as I approach them, and without looking up at Connor—a method of self-preservation—I ask him where he found the mermaid.
“Had it delivered from the toy shop around the block.”
I shake my head, unbelieving.
“Isn’t it perfect?” Jade asks, stars in her eyes.
I nod. “Perfect.”
“Jade?” a nurse calls out behind us. “We need to go into your room now. They’re delivering your lunch soon.”
“You can eat lunch with me too,” she says to the mermaid before following the nurse.
Connor and I are left out in the hall, and I can only watch Jade walk away for so long before it becomes painfully obvious that I’m avoiding eye contact with him.
I force my gaze up to him and whammo—there he is, as blunt as a 2x4 to the side of the head. How have I gone so many hours without looking into those eyes? It’s been excruciating, really. Now that we’re this close, I realize how good it feels to take him in, like it’s a pleasure I’ve been forcing myself to go without for too long. My no-Connor diet ends now.
“The child life team finally got in contact with someone,” he says, keeping his tone in neutral, professional territory.
I blink, taking longer than necessary to process that information.
“For Jade?”
He nods. “Her grandmother is on her way here now. Apparently, she didn’t even realize Jade had been admitted. Her son never told her he dropped her off here, but she suspected something was wrong when she couldn’t get ahold of him at all last night. She’s been calling around to hospitals in the area, frantic, looking for Jade.”
I frown, not exactly pleased.
“And she can be trusted? The grandmother?”
He frowns and glances back down the hall, toward Jade’s room. “It’s not exactly our call.”
“I don’t like this.”
“The child life team will handle it.”
“Will they?”
“She’s not our responsibility outside of this hospital.”
“Are you saying that to me or to yourself? I’m not the one buying her pajamas.”
“Point taken.”
We both watch as Jade walks into her room, her bandaged hand cradling her mermaid.
“For the record, I think it was really sweet of you to do that for her.”
He glances back at me and there’s a prolonged pause in which we stand there, silent as our eyes lock. Emotions twist and churn in my stomach. I feel like I could throw up—but still, I don’t look away. We stand there, taking each other in, and call me crazy, but it almost feels like we could wipe clean our mistakes from the weekend, like we could start new, right now. He must feel it too. Surely.
“Connor?” I ask, propping up an easygoing half-smile. “Any chance we could just forget what happened over the weekend? Start fresh? As friends?”
