Page 109 of Sweet Heart

“Oh, amor. I was only waiting for your lease to end.”

Chapter 39

Cat

“What is your approach?”

“We need to start the patient on a round of beta-blockers and stabilize them before moving to imaging. I’ll call cardio, but I suspect they’ll want to place a stent, maybe two,” Isa says confidently as my eyes dart over the chart.

“Yes, move forward.” I nod. “Oh, and Isa,” I add as she turns away, “what are you and Carmen doing this Saturday?”

Her face flushes, and her eyes sparkle at my question. Even though they have been seeing each other for a while now, the novelty of being an official couple still brings out the jitters in both of them. I love reminding them of that.

“We were hoping to go to that new place on Main Street,” she hums, “but nothing is set in stone. Why?”

“Do you want to come with Mary and me to the beach? We have something to celebrate.”

Something in Isa shifts as I extend the invitation, and her eyes light up. She nods, quietly but determinedly.

“I shall let Car know. Do you want us to bring anything?”

“Maybe some snacks. I’ll bring a cooler, and was thinking we could have dinner at Baia.” I pause, and Isa raises her eyebrow in question. “I mean, it’s a celebration. Baia would be better than Plaza Mexico, no?”

“Ah, Cat, claro que no.” Her voice comes out warm but stern. “This is Mary we’re talking about. She doesn’t care for fancy white tablecloths and expensive wines. She wants warmth, family, home.”

I nod. She is right. Of course, she is right, and I know this. That’s why I hesitated.

“I just don’t want her to think that this milestone doesn’t deserve something grand.”

“Grand is not tied to money.” Isa smiles. “It will mean so much more to her if she can spend it in comfort and with joy than in cold luxury that doesn’t allow her to be herself. Make a reservation at Plaza.”

She squeezes my arm before turning, and once again I wonder how I got so lucky with all these beautiful people in my life. I huff a soft laugh, earning me a surprised look from the nurses at the station, and walk over to one of the available computers. I am about to log in when the radio comes to life. The radio nurse darts her fingers over the keyboard while she answers the call, and I do not pay much attention to it until she goes completely quiet. I glance over my shoulder to see her frozen in her seat.

“ETA?” she croaks, her voice hoarse.

Her eyes dart up and find Wilder, who has just walked in. She raises a single eyebrow in question at her co-worker, the concern visible on her face.

“Turn on the news,” the woman mouths, and Wilder instantly moves.

I rise from my seat and turn toward the small TV mounted in the corner. The moment the channel switches, the impact is clear. Cold seeps into my bones while the images of a broken plane scattered all over the highway flash across the screen. The bay becomes silent when every head turns toward the scene. We all know what is about to happen, what we need to do, but somehow none of us seem ready. We never seem ready, yet we always are.

“Listen up,” the Radio Nurse calls, and I blink myself back into reality. “We have an estimated thirty casualties coming in, ten critical. ETA five minutes.”

“All right, Mitchells, empty as many beds as you can. Andrews, prep the trauma bays. I want every room stocked with supplies. Paulson, secure as much O-neg as you can. Let’s move.”

Wilder instantly slips into charge nurse mode. She doesn’t waste a single second but hands out the commands while her eyes cut sharply through the room. When they land on mine, she gives me a small nod. The message is clear. Truce. At least for now. We are in this together. Lives are at stake, and we can’t have our personal issues come between us. I return the nod.

“Whitman, page Roberts and Honda. You’re with me for triage. Where the hell is Carmen?”

My eyes glide over the trauma bay, but my best friend is nowhere to be seen.

“She is with a patient. Want me to page her?”

“She’ll be here soon enough. Cancel all surgeries for this morning.”

I grab the phone and press the number while my eyes glide over the bay once more. The waiting area is buzzing, but not filled to capacity.

“Parkinson.”