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I’m a different person from the one who came to work yesterday overtired, overstressed, and uncertain about her love life, and it must show because my colleagues and patients comment on the change.
“You look like you’ve won the lottery,” June says as she walks into the staffroom where I’m having my lunch break a few hours later.
Rose, whose shift has ended and who’s on her way out, says, “A gorgeous man dropped her off in a gorgeous car this morning.”
June nudges me. “Good for you, Kate. Way to go.”
“Anyone we know?” Rose asks, wagging her eyebrows.
“I don’t think so,” I say evasively, burying my face behind the berry smoothie Marusya packed for dessert.
“What’s his name?” Rose asks. “You can’t keep us in suspense.”
“Alex Volkov.”
“Wait.” June makes big eyes. “Isn’t that the Russian guy who brought in the gunshot patient?”
“Um, yes.” I clear my throat. “That’s how we met.”
“The same one who delivered flowers to all the patients?” June asks.
“Mm-mm.” My cheeks heat as I realize they both know about all the flowers and chocolates I rejected and handed out at the hospital.
“He’s really been chasing you hard,” June says. “I thought you didn’t want to see him. What changed your mind?”
“He convinced me to give it a shot.” I don’t want to go into detail about how it happened.
“I’ve read about him somewhere,” June says with a frown. “I can’t remember if it was on social media or in the news. The guy is loaded.”
“Not to mention hot,” Rose pipes up.
“What a catch.” June grins. “You deserve it, kiddo. Especially after Tony.”
“Got to run,” Rose says. “I promised my sister I’d pick my nephew up from school.” Rushing through the door, she calls back, “You’re filling me in tomorrow, Kate. I’m not letting you off the hook.”
“I’d better get on with my lunch before another crisis hits,” June says. “We’re bursting at the seams with emergencies today. I don’t know why it always escalates at this time of the year.”
“June?” I say before she has a chance to walk away. “Our working schedules are confidential, right?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” I shake my head. “I was just wondering.” She’s about to move on, but I stop her again. “If someone needed that information, who would be able to disclose it?”
“Me and HR. Or anyone in admin with access to the records, I guess.” She frowns. “Is there a problem with your schedule?”
“Oh, no. I’m just curious.”
“Okay. I’m going to buy a sandwich downstairs. Enjoy that gorgeous boyfriend of yours.” She winks. “And give him my thanks for all the flowers.”
I slip outside to where the smokers usually gather to call my mom before my break is over. Since her bad days are getting more frequent, I like to check on her daily.
“Katie,” she says in an amiable tone. “How nice to hear from you. Did you go back to Alex’s place?”
“Mom!”
“What? I’m your mother. I have a right to ask.”
“Exactly. You’re my mom. That kind of sharing is crossing a line.”
“Ah. Good. Was the sex great?”
I laugh. “You sound better.”
“I’m a whole lot better today. You really don’t have to worry so much, you know.”
“I’m your daughter. That’s my job.”
She sighs. “The worrying is supposed to be my job.”
I don’t want her to feel guilty about an illness she has no control over. “Are you busy tonight?”
“Ludwick is coming over.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “He’s cooking.”
“That sounds like fun. At least you’ll have a break from kitchen duty. I can come over on Wednesday evening if you like. We can watch a movie and eat a TV dinner on the sofa like we used to do on the weekends.”
“Don’t put yourself out on my behalf. I’ll manage just fine. I’m seeing you on Sunday anyway.”
“You are?”
“Didn’t Alex tell you?” she says, sounding surprised. “He invited me for lunch.”
“Oh. No, he hasn’t told me yet, but that’s great.”
“He said it was to make up for the dinner he invited himself to. Not that he needs to make up for anything, but it’s sweet of him anyway.”
“Yes.” Absolutely. My mom is important to me. I don’t want to miss out on seeing her just because I have a new boyfriend.
A thrill runs through me at the thought. The notion is still novel.
We say our goodbyes, and then I quickly call Joanne to check how her evening with Ricky went.
“It was amazing,” she says, whispering since she’s on her lunch break at the office—meaning scarfing down a sandwich at her desk—and probably doesn’t want her colleagues to overhear. “We danced until late, and then I went home to his loft. Oh, my. The man’s skills in bed are out of this world.”
“You sound happy. I’m so glad for you. You deserve it. It’s about time you did something other than work.”
