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“I’m a surgeon,” he said matter-of-factly. “I only bring it up because you’re a nurse.”
“I know you’re a surgeon. After reading about your work with the disadvantaged, I was awestruck. But I’m not a nurse, remember? I couldn’t pass the state boards.”
“It’s got to be something simple, like fear of test-taking. I did a little background research on you…”
“As I on you,” I said, snorting.
“And you’re smart. You graduated near the top of your class.”
“I didn’t like hands-on patient care. I probably sabotaged myself.”
“There are so many areas of nursing that don’t require patient care,” he said. “Or not the kind I think you’re talking about. Take the OR; the patient is usually sedated. You advocate for them, care for their acute needs while in the OR, and make sure they are safe and that you have everything ready for the surgery to progress.”
“I don’t like the blood,” I admitted.
“They told me you applied pressure to my head wound so that blood loss was minimal. Scalp wounds bleed profusely.”
“I must have blocked that out.”
It was his turn to snort with laughter. “Defense mechanisms at work! Well, you did everything right. I think you should give the state boards another go and come with me next spring to Lebanon to do surgery.”
“Dr. Safadi…”
“Flynn.”
“Flynn, you don’t know me. I could be an addict.” I was, but not the kind he had to worry about… For a second, I wondered what size briefs he wore. “Anyway, I don’t have any OR experience.”
“I’ll train you.”
His persistence made me giggle. Obviously, he placed a high value on the fact that I had pulled him from the car, so he must have thought I was worth pursuing. It proved how little he knew about me.
“It’s very flattering that you think I could assist you in surgery, but I don’t think so.”
“It’s a somewhat primitive setup, Bella, not at all like a modern operating room. The community is so grateful. They give us the best they have, and we make good use of it.”
That made me laugh in earnest. “So, you think I might have an easier time of it if everything isn’t top notch?”
He smiled but shook his head. “No, nothing like that, just that an environment that isn’t a busy operating room might help you find your stride.”
That made sense, and for the first time in a long while, I thought there might be something positive for me outside of the car wash. “I’ll give it some thought.”
He grasped onto that and excitedly talked in detail about the next trip he had planned and how I could help. But the trip wouldn’t be till February, delayed until after Christmas.
“Why?” I asked, crestfallen. It seemed the perfect opportunity to get out of having to do anything to celebrate Christmas.
“You said you know about the family business.”
“Sure! You’re the son of Mr. Christmas.” We’d already established that.
“It’s a family tradition that we go all out. Toy drives, parties, giveaways, prizes, anything to brighten Christmas Day for families.”
My flared nostrils must have given my feelings for all of that away because his raised eyebrows and open mouth said it all.
“I guess you don’t celebrate?”
“As little as possible,” I said. I thought maybe telling the partial truth about my actual feelings for Christmas, that it was to be gotten through with as little participation as possible, would help get him off my back. “I really hate all of it.”
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry to hear that.”
