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Five
Emery
The pace at the clinic was so different from the hospital where I’d worked. I stayed busy, but I was mostly rooming patients, fielding calls, and returning messages. I wasn’t hanging IVs, cleaning drainage tubes, or ordering transfusion products like before.
Dr. Abdallah was a demanding doctor, but after working in ICU and being married to Henry, I found her refreshingly ego-free. I would’ve taken this position no matter what, but knowing she was also a mom and had practices and games to get to eased my worry that not being able to give 110 percent to my job at all times might be held against me.
I finished recording notes about the patient I’d just given a B12 shot and logged out for lunch. In the break room, Lyric was taking a bite out of an apple and reading a thriller I’d seen on the grocery store shelves. She gave me a little wave since her mouth was full, then went back to her book.
Before my divorce, I’d hated chatting during breaks, if I had time to take any. They were often the only part of the day I could be alone with my thoughts and read a chapter before I had to return to work.
After my divorce, I rarely got any adult interaction other than recording patient vitals. I wouldn’t mind visiting. I liked Lyric. She was a med tech in the lab, several years younger than me, and an odd combination of optimistic and cynical. But I wouldn’t interrupt her reading.
I heated up leftover lasagna. The microwave dinged just as Krystal barged in. I didn’t vibe as well with her as with my other coworkers. She liked to loudly correct mistakes and throw other departments under the bus in front of patients. I’d seen Dr. Abdallah roll her eyes once when she thought no one could see after Krystal loomed over me to lecture me on how often to charge the blood pressure machines. It’d taken the sting off the new-girl embarrassment I’d had.
Krystal sniffed and wrinkled her nose like she was draining a stinky catheter. “What’s that smell?”
“Garlic, probably.” I smiled apologetically as I carried my food to the table Lyric was at. I sat across from her, but a couple of chairs down.
“Better have some gum before patients complain.” She opened the fridge and stood with it open, her back to us.
Krystal was one of those. I’d come across her abrasive personality in the workplace before. The best thing to do would be to not take it personally. And interact as little as possible. Lyric didn’t look at Krystal, but I caught her rolling her eyes. There were a lot of like-minded people when it came to Krystal.
Krystal had been talking to Holden at the clinic, but he’d worn a similar expression to Lyric’s current one when I’d walked into the waiting room with Landon.
She continued to hold the fridge door open. I bit my tongue. She wasn’t my kid. I didn’t need to tell her to shut the door. But seriously. The open door with cool air rolling out fueled my anxiety. A byproduct of being the major income earner for a family of five.
Krystal peered in further. “Hasn’t anyone been stocking our pop stash?”
“Not since you left,” Lyric said without taking her eyes off her book.
Krystal shot me a pointed look and let the door fall shut. “I guess that job falls to you now too.”
Right. Because I didn’t have enough to do.
Lyric turned a page. “If someone really wants it, they can take over the pop fund. Making the new girl do it isn’t fair.”
“I was able to get it done.”
Krystal never failed to remind me that I had her old position. I wasn’t sure about the story behind why she moved, but Dr. Abdallah refused to shift my position to float nurse, which Krystal now was. I had already been hired, and I got to keep the position I was hired for.
Krystal sauntered closer to our table. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her scrub top. “Hear from Stetson?”
Hadn’t she mentioned Stetson when I’d brought Landon in?
Lyric didn’t look up from her book. “Nope. I’m Isla’s best friend, not his.”
“But you see him a lot.”
“Not really.”
Krystal wasn’t daunted by a topic Lyric clearly didn’t want to engage in. “I should probably call him.”
Lyric turned another page and didn’t respond. I dug into my lasagna. This interaction helped me remember why I was better off giving up those late-night fantasies about Holden. Concentrating on Krystal’s infatuation with Stetson helped me forget the appalled expression on Holden’s face when he’d counted how many kids I had and how quickly he’d bailed out of my car after Landon was done at the clinic.
“Well, if you see him, tell him I need to talk to him,” Krystal said.
“Sure,” Lyric said in a way that told me she would tell Stetson no such thing.
