Despite the less-than-mediocre taste, I fill the cup to the rim. I’ve been struggling with my sleep lately. Every time I close my eyes, I see him, and my body feels like it’s been struck by lightning.
“Morning,” I reply softly, then turn to face her.
She is sitting at the table, finishing her morning coffee and crossword puzzle. It’s her way of entering her shift calmly. I can’t seem to get myself up earlier than absolutely necessary. Maybe when I’ve been doing it as long as she has.
“I hear yesterday was eventful.” She smiles mischievously.
I narrow my eyebrows. “What do you mean exactly?”
“Oh, you know, just a little heated rivalry going on in 447 between an oncologist and cardiologist.”
I stop in my tracks. “Where did you hear that?”
“A certain patient whom I went in to see when you were with 458. He’s quite the talker. He also thinks he’s a matchmaker.”
I hide my smirk behind my cup and take a quick sip. Frank is something else.
“I wouldn’t believe everything Frank tells you,” I reply coolly.
“Oh, I’ve seen enough around the halls between you and Colton to know Frank is onto something.”
I shake my head. “Don’t hold your breath, Trudy. Colton doesn’t know what he wants.”
With that, I walk out of the break room and head for the nurses’ station. I can’t handle any more opinions right now. I’m barely hanging on as it is.
I convinced myself Colton’s reaction yesterday was in my head. Now I’m not so sure.
After I drink as much of my coffee as I can get down, I begin my morning rounds. When I walk into Frank’s room, he’s dozing off in his bed while Diane sits in her chair, reading a book. She smiles softly at me as I move to check his IV.
“I’ll be back to check on him in a couple of hours,” I tell Diane. “I don’t want to disturb his rest.”
“Thank you, Melissa,” she replies.
The morning seems to fly by as I buzz in and out ofpatients’ rooms.
I get back to Frank’s room in the early afternoon lull, where the hospital seems to hold its breath. I glance up from the chart.
He must be tired today because he smiles briefly at me, then closes his eyes. Diane’s purse is in the corner, but she isn’t in the room.
A soft knock sounds at the door while I check his vitals.
“Come in,” I reply.
Dr. Owens steps inside with an easy smile, jacket slung over one arm, sleeves rolled enough to look casual without trying.
“Hope I’m not interrupting,” he says.
“No,” I reply. “He’s resting.”
“Good,” he says, lowering his voice. “I wanted to follow up before I headed out.”
He comes closer, stopping beside the bed. We both glance at Frank, then at each other.
“I reviewed his latest echo,” he says. “No surprises. He’s holding steady.”
Relief loosens the knot in my chest. “That’s good.”
“It is.” He studies me for a moment, not uncomfortable, more attentive. “You’ve done excellent work with him.”
