Dad continues.“You’ll need to address the post-op medication delays and the discharge communication gaps flagged last quarter.I read the last two performance reports.The board will expect you to propose fixes, not just note problems.”
“Got it.”I nod, though my stomach churns.This isn’t about writing the report; it’s if I mess this up, it won’t just reflect badly on me.It will look bad on Dad for giving me the opportunity and on Brant for supposedly mentoring me through it.“Is that all?”
“That’s all,” Dad confirms.“You two can go.”
But before I can rise, Brant shifts forward in his seat.
“Do you mind if I talk to you first?”His eyes lock on my dad.
My eyebrows lift slightly, but I keep my mouth shut.Whatever this is, it’s between them.
I stand, my hands brushing the sides of my scrub pants.I glance between them, a little uncertain, but Brant gives me a small, reassuringI’ve got thislook.
“Okay,” I say quietly.“I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah.I’ll come find you,” he says.
I glance at my dad, but he’s already focused back on the folder.No goodbye.So I don’t offer one either.I step out, closing the door behind me as softly as I can.
A long breath escapes me.I linger, ear facing the door, but I can’t hear much.Whatever they're saying, it's not loud enough for eavesdropping.
I pivot and head toward the ward, but falter when I remember I left the committee prep file in the consult room.He’ll grab it.Maybe if I help Brant knock out the rest of the ward work, we can dive straight into the committee stuff.
I still can’t believe we’re presenting together.Just the two of us.
“There you are,” Brant says, a little breathless, like he’s been looking for a while.“I checked our office.”
I glance up from the file I’m reading on the ward.
“I figured if I finished off as much of this round as I could, we could dive straight into the committee stuff.”
I close the chart.“No offense, but I kind of want to get it over with.I’m not a bit-by-bit-each-day person.Never was.College taught me to power through and be done.”
He chuckles softly, arms crossed against his chest.“Same.Once I start something, I can’t stop until it’s finished.”
Our eyes catch for just a second, a flicker of recognition passing between us.
His lips curve into a smile, and I feel myself smile back, taking in the soft lines surrounding his eyes when he lets his walls down, even for just a small moment.
I look away first.“All right,” I say, shifting into business mode.“What’s left on your end?”
He gestures down the hall.“Bed two probably needs a full MRI.I flagged it earlier.You might want to take a look.”
I nod.“And the kid in bed six?”
“Needs a follow-up plan.He’s got a specialist appointment out of town tomorrow.We need to figure out after-care.”
We walk and talk, the rhythm easy now.We go over labs, scans, the never-ending to-dos, both of us falling into that quiet but efficient flow.It takes another hour to finish up, but we manage it just before clinic starts.
I’d been hoping to leave on time today.I wanted to call Liz, but I can see that’s not happening, so I’ll have to try tomorrow.
Unfortunately, that means no time to start the committee report.Brant checks his watch.I catch the faint crease of frustration at the corner of his eyes.My bingo card flashes through my brain.Watch check?That’s definitely on there.
“You want me to make us a coffee?”I ask, already knowing the answer.
His shoulders lift with a grateful breath.“Would you?I could definitely use one.”
“I kind of need it too,” I say.“But I’m stealing your creamer.”
