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Iwas met with a brisk winter gust as I stepped out of my car the next day, the chill slipping under my coat and raising goosebumps on my skin. It was that time of year again when everything was dusted with fresh snow and the air held the promise of the upcoming festivities.
I loved it.
As I made my way toward the hospital, I took a moment to appreciate the Christmas decorations that adorned the building. The twinkling lights that were draped around the entrance offered an inviting glow to the otherwise cold, sterile structure. A giant Christmas tree, adorned with multicolored baubles and tinsel, stood tall in the lobby, its star-studded peak almost touching the ceiling. It was as if the entire hospital had donned a cheerful disguise, a sharp contrast to its usual serious demeanor.
As I pushed the entrance doors open, a blast of warm air greeted me, momentarily banishing the winter chill. The pleasant aroma of cinnamon and pine wafted from somewhere, mingling with the familiar antiseptic scent of the hospital. In the background, a soft rendition ofJingle Bellsplayed, adding to the overall holiday atmosphere.
I nodded to the receptionist, Brenda, whose normally stern face was lit up with a warm smile. "Morning, Jude," she greeted me, her voice filled with cheer. I returned the greeting, a smile tugging at my own lips.
As I made my way through the familiar hallways, I exchanged greetings and shared quick chats with my colleagues. There was an unmistakable buzz in the air, a mix of holiday cheer and the usual hustle of the hospital. I spotted Sally in the midst of wrestling with the surgical department Christmas tree, her forehead glistening with the strain.
"Sally," I called, sauntering over, a mischievous glint in my eye. "Do you swear to maintain the sanctity of the 'sisters before misters' code?" I walked over to her, grabbing the tree by the base, taking some of the stress off her.
Her laughter rang out in the quiet office, her face lighting up in curiosity. "Oh, this sounds juicy. I swear on my favorite stethoscope.” She crossed her heart dramatically.
As we worked together to set the tree upright, I told her about my unexpected weekend escapade, speaking in a very low tone. Her eyes widened at the mention of Tony's name, followed by a burst of laughter that made several of the baubles on the tree jingle.
"Welcome to the club, Jude," she said between chuckles.
"The club?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow at her.
Sally nodded, her face breaking into a wide grin. "Oh, yes. 'Tony's Girls,' they call it. You're not the first nurse he's charmed," she explained, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
I laughed, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. "He did mention his man-whore tendencies," I admitted, remembering our candid conversation.
Her eyes flashed with curiosity. "Oh, come on. You can't leave me hanging, Jude. I need details."
I blushed, shrugging nonchalantly, though my grin gave away my feelings. "Let's just say he's well-versed in anatomy."
The laughter that followed was infectious, and we both stood chuckling in the midst of tinsel and ornaments.
During a brief pause in our laughter, Sally said, "Did you know he's only thirty-two?" I blinked, the surprise clearly written on my face. I'd known he was younger, but eight years? That seemed like a lot.
“You serious? Jeez, I’m a damn cradle robber.”
But Sally waved my concern away. "So what? Men date younger all the time. Why can't we?"
I pondered her words, realizing she had a point when our tete-a-tete was abruptly cut short by the arrival of Dr. Hartford, one of the cardiac surgeons on the floor. We straightened up, sharing a conspiratorial smile as we greeted the new day and its challenges.
A little while later I was back at the charge desk, having finally completed my updates on my resume. When I was satisfied with my work, I leaned back in my chair, letting out a deep, relieved sigh. Glancing through it one more time, I noticed the marks of my growth in the nursing field, each job and responsibility shaping me into the nurse I had become. My fingers hovered over the send button, the nerves buzzing under my skin. I was about to officially apply for the OR manager position.
Click. The email shot into the virtual void, carrying with it my application and cover letter. It was done. I exhaled, a strange mix of anticipation and excitement settling within me. The decision now rested in the hands of Human Resources, who would be beginning the interview process next week.
As I sat there, staring at the blank screen, I could almost feel the change in the air. This new position was not just a job. It was an opportunity, a step forward in my career. It meant a raise in pay, something I could really use. But more than the monetary benefits, it was the prospect of a more consistent, nine-to-five schedule that drew me in. After years of working night shifts, holidays, and weekends, the thought of having a more regular work schedule felt both deserved and exciting.
Of course, there was the undeniable responsibility that came with the role. I knew well that managing the OR was more than just organizing schedules and administrative duties. It meant that whenever a nurse couldn't make their shift, it would fall on me to step in or arrange for a replacement. It would mean unexpected crises, and more stress.
I thought of the nurses on my team—their quirks, their strengths, and the unique set of skills each one had. Could I be the trailblazer, the leader they needed?
A smile spread across my face. Yes, I could. I was ready. After all, I'd been preparing for this my whole career. The late nights, the difficult patients, the moments of crisis—I'd learned from them all. As I switched off the computer, a feeling of certainty washed over me. Whatever happened next, I knew I had given it my all. It was time to take a leap of faith and embrace the opportunity, come what may.
* * *
Two weeks. It had been two weeks since the mountain escapade, since the steamy encounters in the cabin, and since Tony and I had become a secret, tucked away from prying eyes. As I stared into my closet, selecting an outfit for the upcoming interview, I couldn't help but be reminded of the complicated layer our secret added to an otherwise routine process.
I pushed aside the multitude of scrubs that usually defined my work wardrobe, their various shades of blues, greens, and pinks stark against the few civilian clothes I owned. If I landed this manager position, the scrubs would have to make way for a more professional wardrobe consisting of crisp blouses, skirts, and slacks, perhaps even a suit or two. The prospect was exciting, but also a bit daunting. I hadn't shopped for office clothes in quite a long time.
Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I adjusted the collar of the smart, green blouse I had chosen, pairing it with a simple pair of black trousers. This was an important day. A potentially life-changing day. And yet, a tiny part of my mind kept drifting back to Tony.
