Page 22 of Soup Sandwich
Her expression grows serious. “Got it. I know the score down here and I’m not going to get in your way. I just want to learn all that I can.”
I respect that about her. She’s a Fritz, stepchild or not, and that name pulls a lot of weight in this city. Especially in the medical community since all the Fritz children are in the medical field. She used that to get this position, but she’s not spoiled, and she’s not entitled. She’s in scrubs with her hair tied up, ready to do whatever is asked of her. I also reviewed some of her course discussions and lab scores earlier this morning, and she’s at the top of her class.
I smirk at her. “Then come with me.”
She laughs. “I thought we discussed you not saying that anymore.”
“You did. I never agreed.”
For the next few hours, Layla follows me around and does my bidding. We see patient after patient. She stays behind me. She keeps her mouth shut. She watches everything I do with interest and curiosity. When we leave the patient rooms, I drill her with questions and challenge her on differential diagnoses. She runs labs and by the end of the day, I allow her to stand in the corner of the room during a trauma that comes in.
Being around her gets easier but it also gets harder.
Easier because everything we’re doing is work-related. There is no time for anything else. Harder because I still catch hints of her fragrance or a coy smile or the way her eyes light up when I praise her, or she gets diagnoses correct.
I’ve never been happier to see the end of my shift as I am right now.
“Thank you for today, Dr. Barrows,” she says simply as I finish signing out the last of my patients to the oncoming doctor. “I learned a lot and I’m very grateful for your time.”
“When are you back next?”
“Wednesday after class. I’m going to be here Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Tuesdays and Thursdays are lab and simulator days plus I need to study and get my work in.”
“Then I’ll see you Wednesday.”
I spin to leave, wanting to flee this woman when her voice stops me. “Why did you pick emergency medicine as your specialty?”
I freeze, just like that. My hands go to my hips and my head falls forward as my eyes close. I don’t get asked this question frequently anymore, and back when I was a student or an intern, I had a bullshit answer. I’d say it was because my father was an Army surgeon and I wanted to help those in crisis.
Originally, I had wanted to become a surgeon for that very reason.
Then Suzie died.
Just dropped dead in the shower. She was with Zax, he did CPR, and then Greyson and I came in. I took over for him because I knew what I was doing because I was CPR certified—my father always made sure of that.
I also knew there was going to be no saving her that night.
Suzie. A girl larger than life. A girl whom I had known my entire life. And there I was, doing chest compressions on her dead body.
She had a stroke. A brain hemorrhage, but before that she’d been having headaches. I didn’t know about those and neither did Zax who was her boyfriend. Only her twin brother Lenox knew, but there were other signs he missed. Other signs we all missed. Like she’d had some episodes of blurry vision. Some tingling in her fingers and even occasional weakness in her hand.
It was a lot of little things that were never caught, but after she died, I wanted to be the one to catch all the little things so something like that wouldn’t happen again. I couldn’t save Suzie and it broke me apart in a lot of ways, so that’s why I did it. I’ve never told another living soul that’s the real reason I went into emergency medicine. Not my father. Not my older brother. Not my friends—especially not them.
I turn back to her and debate how forthcoming I should be. Layla is part of a very wealthy, very famous, very private family. I suspect she’s no stranger to keeping secrets and things close to the vest. Suzie’s death was everywhere. Central Square was one of the world’s largest bands at the time and her death was big news. I’ve never talked about it publicly, only with the guys. Trusting her with this is no small thing, but for reasons I can’t figure out, I want her to be the one to know the truth.
“Because no one should lose their Suzie the way we lost ours. If I can save at least one person by catching something bad before it strikes, then that’s all I need.”
She swallows the distance between us by half and stares up into my eyes. “By my count, you saved the lives of at least three people today. Nice job, Doctor. I’ll see you Wednesday in class.”
My heart clenches like she’s squeezing it in her fist, and I leave the hospital—and her—behind. It’s going to be a long fucking summer.
“Uncle Cal, can I come stay with you next week?” my niece Katy immediately asks the second as I hit answer on my car’s screen as I drive over to Zax’s place for dinner. All the guys are in town tonight and whenever that’s the case—since it rarely ever is—we always get together.
“Hey, Katy, my favorite lady,” I answer, smiling for the first time in what feels like all week at the sound of her high-pitched voice. “You can stay with me anytime, but what’s going on next week?”
It’s been one week since I met Layla. A week’s worth of classes in the morning and then seeing Layla in the emergency room after. She was paired with me again today and it was a special form of hell. What is it about her that makes me want to look at her all the damn time? That makes me want to reach out and touch her?
I don’t understand it. I’ve never been like this before with a woman. Instead of things getting easier, they seem to be getting harder.