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She laughs again, a musical sound that I could get used to. “How’d you know?”
“I’ve worked here a few years. We get a spike in volunteers around this time. Or when laws change or abortion access is in the news.”
She tips her head to the side. “Are you a doctor?”
“Nope. I’m a CRNA.”
“What does that stand for?”
“Certified Registered Nurse Anesthetist.”
“That’s quite the title.”
“CRNA is easier to get your mouth around.”
“No kidding. So, what does a CRNA do?”
“Basically, everything an anesthesiologist does. But I’m not a doctor. I’m a nurse.” Which, to most people, means I’m a loser.
Her expression doesn’t reveal any judgement, though. We just nod at each other for a few moments, her cheeks as red as mine must be. Hard to tell whether it’s from the cold, embarrassment, or both.
Finally, she lifts the coffee cup. “Well, thanks for taking time out to bring me this. It’s a lifesaver.”
I’m not a player, never have been. I’m just a pudgy guy who’s had way more friends who are female than girlfriends. But something gives me the courage to ask, “Hey, uh, would you like to get coffee sometime?”
She laughs. “You mean, like, not in a parking lot with an audience of rage-fueled nuts?”
“Yeah. Like indoors, just the two of us.”
“Like a date?”
My head bobbing so fast it might bounce right off, I echo, “Like a date.”
Instead of answering, she pulls a pen from her coat pocket. “Give me your arm.”
I do as she requests, and she writes on the inside of my forearm just as a car pulls up to the curb and a shout goes up from the protesters. “Guess that’s my cue.”
She straightens and salutes me with the coffee cup before jogging to face the crowd. Just before she gets to the sidewalk, she looks back and mouths, “Call me.”
I nod, my smile so wide it hurts.
A single thought enters my mind: I’m going to get that girl to marry me.
And I don’t even know her name.
2
December 31,2006
“I resolve to go to law school.”
DEE
After setting the cup of coffee mixed just the way Sam likes it on the battered chest of drawers by his side of the bed, I check my watch, wondering if there’s time for a quickie before I have to go to work.
It’s the anniversary of the day he asked me out for the first time, and since I’m working at the bar tonight and he didn’t get home from the hospital until a few hours ago, this is our last chance to celebrate.
But he looks so peaceful lying there—my teddy bear.
