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I sit down at a computer to document Mrs. Michaelson’s care, and Mason leans against the counter.
“Hey, Pam, help me out,” he says to the lady writing on the big whiteboard behind the desk. At first glance, with her short, white hair, big round glasses, and baggy scrubs that hang from her spindly frame, you might think Pam’s a patient, but she’s one of the longest tenured and hardest working aides here. She never flinches from a mess, is the first to jump in and do whatever’s needed, and honestly, should’ve retired at least five years ago but says she’d rather get paid for taking care of old folks than take care of her old husband for free.
She gives Mason a wary look, which is valid considering he could be asking for help with what to order for lunch or with cleaning up feces.
“I’m trying to get Janey to go out tonight, but she’s ditching me for a book boyfriend with fangs and a hard-on for a bitch named—” Mason stops abruptly, changing gears. “How does a vampire get an erection? They have no blood. That’s the point of all the bitey-biting, right? But they’ve got enough to go all . . .” He throws his forearm out, hand fisted at the end, like that’s supposed to be Dragul’s erection.
Although with the way he’s written, Mason’s not that far off if I’m being a hundred percent honest.
“Baby, do that again and you’ll be the one giving blood. Look at those veins!” Pam quips as she grabs Mason’s arm and traces the thick vein in his forearm. If she had a needle in her pocket and the law on her side to allow her to actually draw blood, I think she’d already be wrapping a tourniquet around Mason’s bicep.
“It’s definitely giving . . . nurse porn!” Gabriella, our charge nurse, agrees. She’s been here for years and is actually the one who hired me to work on the ward. My interview with her consisted of her trying to talk me out of working here and suggesting that I do travel nursing instead to ‘pad my bank account while I’m young’. But I’d been sure then and I’m still sure now. I love it here, and Gabriella is a big part of that. She’s the boss, but she’s a good one, with a bit of motherly love—of both the tough variety and the kind variety—for everyone, staff and patients.
Mason laughs at her assessment and does a few biceps curls to pump his arm up even more. “Ya think that’s hot? Check this out,” he tells Gabriella as he flexes hard.
“Aww, so cute. You think women like that?” she teases back in a pitying voice. “Nah, show me a man with a belly. If he eats, I know I’ll eat and my kids’ll eat. Plus, a man with some cake will appreciate my snacks.” She pats her own curvy butt enthusiastically, which is extended beyond both sides of the chair she’s sitting in.
Mason’s ready, though, and throws back, “If he’s not hitting the gym, how’s he gonna hold you up, flip you over, and uh-uh?” He mimes spanking all that ass, and Pam and Gabriella burst out laughing.
“My knees and back don’t want or need all that anymore. Hell, I need three pillows to get me in the right position and give me Posturepedic support so I can walk after,” Pam says, divulging entirely too much information.
“Ooh, yes. Getchu one of the wedge pillows,” Gabriella agrees. “Puts everything at just the right height so nobody’s gotta work too hard.”
Mason looks stunned. And confused. I’m mostly enjoying the show of them teasing each other.
“I can’t with you two,” Mason finally decides with a laugh, waving his hands in front of his face like he’s wiping away that imagery. “But I need one of you to tell this one” —he points at me— “to stop pining after Forest Frank n’ Beans and go out for drinks with me tonight.”
“Who?” Gabriella asks.
I give her a bare bones rendition, explaining, “I met a guy, and he did me a favor and took me to my cousin’s wedding. We had an amazing time—”
“She means there was no pillow needed, other than the one she was screaming ‘yes, yes, yes’ into,” Mason interjects. I swat his stupidly-big shoulder as Gabriella and Pam grin. I maybe shouldn’t have told Mason as many details as I did.
“As I was saying, we had an amazing time, and then he gave me a business card as a goodbye.” Gabriella recoils, disgust wrinkling her face, and I rush to add, “But it’s fine. I’m thankful he helped me with the wedding and reminded me that I deserve better than my ex or my family.” I smile, topping off the story with a happy ending.
Not that kind, but a mental one at least.
