Back at work, the guys at the firehouse busted my balls as usual. About a week after the reunion, I had just arrived for my shift when I saw the guys all gathered around the big stainless-steel table in the open kitchen space.
“Casanovaaaa—” hollered Wreck, a giant beast of a man about ten years my senior. “Welcome back, my man. What pretty lady is on the menu this week?”
“Still can’t get over your mom, Wreck. Sorry to say,” I fired back jokingly.
“Aw come on, don’t be like that. I gotta live vicariously, man. We can't all be 22 and single. Blonde? Brunette? Redhead? What’s the flavor of the week?”
“Ya know, guys... I actually think I’m gonna take a break from the ladies for a while.” I shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant.
“You sick or something, Casanova?” Nineteen-year-old Blaze put his hand to my forehead.
“Just sick of your shit, Blaze,” I quipped back.
Blaze looked over to our captain, Hawk. I’d seen Hawk for two shifts so far since I’d been back. “What do you think, Hawk? We need to get a medic to check on Cas? Think he caught some kind of New Englander disease?”
Hawk didn’t look up from his paper. “Leave the kid alone, Blaze. He’s a mope. He’s probably fallen in love.”
My head jerked up. Hawk was a shrewd guy. Had he really seen it written on my face how badly I was pining for Brooke?
Hawk finally looked up and caught my eye. “You ladies shut your mouths and let me read. Now, where’s the grub?”
By the third week home,I felt like I was losing my mind. My thoughts were utterly consumed by Brooke, and I constantly waffled internally over what I should do.
I knew she was in a relationship, and maybe she didn’t have room for me in her life anymore. Maybe the best course of action was to just leave it alone.
I couldn’t just leave things how we’d left them at the reunion, though.
But maybe Ishouldleave her be. Stay out of her life. Maybe that was the good-guy thing to do.
I’d made an ass out of myself, I reminded myself, and I’d probably do the same again if I reached out.
But maybe I could apologize.
Maybe I could get her away from that asshole.Fuck that guy.
But was it really my place to intervene?
No, but I goddamn wanted it to be.
I was tearing my hair out, my instincts at war with one another.
If I was really lucky, I’d reach out, apologize, and we could rebuild our friendship. There was still something there. We couldn’t just let ten years slide down the drain, no matter how much of a dick I’d been.
I finally resolved to try.
After the mess I’d made at the reunion, adding her to Facebook didn’t seem like the right move. It didn’t feel like enough—an empty gesture.
I sorted through the details I knew about her life now. I knew she was a nurse. Even without adding her as a friend, her place of employment popped up on her profile: Boston GeneralHospital. I didn’t know what her specialty was or what unit she worked in, though, so I’d have a bit of legwork cut out for me if I wanted to track her down.
I started by calling the general line and talking to the switchboard operator. I gave the name Brooke Meadows, and they transferred my call.
“Internal Medicine Unit, Loretta speaking,” the answering voice rang out. The voice came from an older woman. Slightly scratchy, with a distinctively Caribbean lilt.
“Hi, um—I’m looking for a nurse. I think she works in this unit. Brooke. Brooke Meadows. Do you know her?”
Suddenly my palms felt clammy. Was I really doing this? Would Brooke think I was some kind of stalker, reaching out to her work? What was I planning to say to her? Bile rose in my throat, and I nearly hung up.
“Are you a patient of Ms. Meadows?”
