Chapter 3

Sunday

“Are you blind, ref?” I yell at the television after my team gets another flag thrown at their play. “He was obviously not holding, for fuck’s sake!”

“Anyone listening to you would think life and death hinges on this game,” Bria teases, handing me a full glass of wine. “So, I saw you dancing a lot with Jett Blake.”

I can’t help the flush that rises, heating me from the inside out.

“He’s just as nice as he was in high school, Bria,” I quietly state, taking a sip of my drink.

“And he’s single again too,” she sing songs, nudging me with her shoulder. “Couldn’t ask for a better guy for my best friend in the whole wide world.”

Brows raised, I glare at her. “Trying to marry me off already? Have you forgotten my ass and thigh look like ground meat?”

“They do not, dammit! Yes, you can tell you were hurt and have had surgeries there, but the areas are smooth thanks to the grafts. Get out of your own damn way, Sunday, and let whatever’s gonna happen between you two happen for heaven’s sake!”

Sighing, I put my glass down. “Bria, now that everything’s done, it’s time for me to focus on my job.”

I just got hired at the local hospital as an emergency room nurse. While a lot of my friends in school preferred to focus on one area, like surgery or labor and delivery, I wanted the adrenaline rush from trauma that handling different cases would give me. I suspect my stint in the Navy, where every day was never the same mundane routine in the medic tent, drew me to emergency medicine. I’ve gone through my orientation, and start working the eleven to seven shift in three days, which is one reason I’m staying up late. I have to change my whole schedule, something I think will be consuming, but I’ve never backed down from a challenge in my life, and I’m not going to start now.

“Bullshit,” she retorts. “Most people successfully manage working and maintain a relationship, Sunday, and you’re no different.”

“Whatever,” I reply, anxious to change subjects. “Mom said Jonas stopped by the dealership today to buy a new vehicle.”

“Oh, really?” she asks, grinning at me.

“Yeah, and as soon as Dad saw him, he told him to leave, his money was no good there.”

“Your dad let a sale go?”

I snicker because she sounds shocked. My dad’s not a hardass, but after Jonas broke up with me the way he did, he told anyone who would listen that he would never sell him a vehicle. And if what Mom says is true, he’s kept his word.

“Yep. Now, he has to go two towns over to buy a car, and I know for a fact they raise their tag prices higher than Dad’s dealership.”

The only reason I know this is because I was shopping around for a new car, and went there first to see what I wanted, before I turned around, and came back to my father’s dealership. The same vehicle with the same options was almost four thousand dollars less and that was before using the company discount I get for being family.

“He just doesn’t get it, does he?” she questions, clicking her tongue in criticism. “I’m surprised they’re still living here because most folks who know you won’t give them the time of day.”

“I’ve never asked anyone to do that, Bria,” I say. “Besides, should he have stayed with me when what happened to me in the field repulsed him? Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t need any man’s pity.”

“No, I think it’s because of how he did it. He could’ve manned up and told you to your face, but instead, he sent you a fucking text like a coward. Trust me, your folks dropped that information in the right ears, and you know what happened after that! Everyone knew he was a piece of shit, so when he and his wife decided to move here, they chose you. Although, I kinda hate it for their kids, because they’ve got a shitty father, but regardless, he made his choice and now he gets to wallow in it.”

My best friend is nothing if not loyal. Since I was finally able to come home, she’s been by my side through countless surgeries and rehab. She and my mom took turns changing the dressings, even though by her own admission, she can’t handle blood and guts without squirming and getting choked up. I giggle thinking of all the times she gagged while my mom threatened her with a beatdown if she puked in the sterile field.

“At least he didn’t string me along, Bri.”

Do I want to run into him and his perfect wife? Absolutely not. He knew he couldn’t handle less than perfection in his future spouse, so even though how he broke up with me was downright shitty, I’m glad I wasn’t dragged along further only to be dumped when I was wholeheartedly invested in our future.

“Don’t put him up for sainthood, Sunday,” she warns. “Now, back to Jett. You know he didn’t have to work but he took the coaching job at the high school.”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” I say. “Of course, he was always busy back in the day too, and if that’s the case, I can’t really see him just sitting around on his ass like a bum while life goes by.”

“True. His kid is freaking adorable. He’s at that awkward phase, all gawky and shit, but he’s an absolute hoot to be around. Funny but smart, and definitely kind, like his dad was back in the day.”

“I haven’t seen him in years. Bet he looks a lot like Jett.”

At least, I hope he does because Stacey, while beautiful, is a straight up bitch.

“He does, nearly his mirror image, except for a spattering of freckles on his nose.”

“How do you know this?”

“Oh, Dusty’s in one of my class periods for math,” she supplies. “He’s smart like his dad was, too. Keeps me on my damn toes, always asking questions that make me feel unfit to teach, or needing to pull out a book to research the answer. Both options are embarrassing.”

“That shouldn’t take much,” I tease. “I’m still unsure how you ended up teaching that class when you hate numbers like you do!”

“Shut it!” she exclaims throwing a pillow at me. “Weren’t you wanting to watch the game?”

* * *

“I’m sure I’m forgetting something,” I murmur as I look through the stuffed bag I’ve packed for my first shift. One of the longtime nurses suggested I bring an extra pair of scrubs and shoes in the event I needed to swap my outfit for a clean one, so I’ve got two sets because I’m extra cautious like that sometimes. I also have protein shakes, bottles of water to drink so I stay hydrated between traumas, protein bars, and a cache of loose change to put in my locker. My lunches for the next three days are all prepped, and two are in the fridge, while one is in my insulated lunch bag. I have a stockpile of water to store in my locker, juice, and one soda, along with a tumbler to fill up when I’m able to take a few minutes to update my charts.

I’m currently scheduled to work in the emergency room department, which should give me the adrenaline rush I crave. I just hope I’m able to keep up; the weather has me a bit more rigid and my muscles tighter than normal.

Grabbing a bottle of Tylenol, I shove it in my bag along with my ID, a pack of gum, and my lip balm. Hopefully, I have everything I need, but if I don’t, I’ll just write out a note of it and bring it for my next shift. My goal is to have my locker crammed with enough necessities that all I have to bring is my lunch. We’ll see how that works for me.

I check my place one more time, ensuring doors and windows are locked, then turn the light on over the stove so I’m not coming into a pitch-dark house. Once I’m positive everything is closed up tight, I grab my tote and lunch bag, then head out to my car.

“Here goes nothing,” I whisper, starting my car to head out to the hospital and start my new adventure.

* * *

“Doing well, nurse,” the doctor says, as I hand him another instrument, so he can finish suturing up the patient.

“Thank you,” I reply. He’s an older man, somewhat gruff, and the other nurses had warned me about his mannerisms, but I’ve had no problems with working beside him.

Maybe because he reminds me of Branch? I don’t know, and won’t look at it, or over-analyze it too closely. I watch him tie off the stitching, then snap off his gloves, and toss them into the hazardous trash bin since they had a trace of blood on them.

“Go ahead and clean it thoroughly with saline, then get him bandaged up while I get his aftercare instructions and discharge paperwork taken care of.” To the patient, he gives him the verbal instructions by saying, “Keep it clean and dry, change the bandages daily, and make sure you finish the whole round of antibiotics I’m prescribing.”

“Yes, sir,” the patient confirms. Once the doctor has left the room, he looks at me with wide eyes. “How is it you have no issues with Dr. Crane? Nobody likes working with him.”

I smile as I reply, “He reminds me a lot of my commanding officer. The man was brusque, and to the point in everything he said, and did. It’s almost like being with him without the sand, and sweltering weather, of course.”

By the time I’m finished with the patient, Dr. Crane has returned, handed him a prescription to keep infections at bay, and his discharge paperwork, then left once again without a single word uttered.

“You have a good night, Sunday,” the patient says, looking at my lanyard which has my name prominently displayed. “Hopefully, it won’t be too crazy.”

“From your mouth to God’s ear,” I tease, removing my own gloves, and tossing them. “On to the next one,” I state. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I don’t see you again any time soon.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cross, I need you in here,” Dr. Crane calls out, as I pass one of the rooms on my way to the nurse’s station to complete his chart with what services I provided.

“Coming, sir,” I reply.

Looks like charting will be done when I can get to it. Probably about the time the next shift nurse clocks in to take over.

* * *

“I swear I’ve never been more tired than I am right now,” Moira, one of the other nurses on duty, complains as we grab our purses from our lockers.

“The shift was definitely hopping,” I reply, slipping off my Crocs, and replacing them with my tennis shoes.

“You did really well. Dr. Crane was impressed,” she states, complimenting me as we walk out to the employee parking lot.

“Just did my job, Moira,” I rebut. “You guys were doing the same.”

“Yeah, but he’s never requested any of us to work alongside him, like he did you tonight,” she insists as we reach our vehicles.

I shrug, unsure what to say in response as I hit my key fob to unlock my car.

“See you tonight,” I call out.

“Get some rest, we’re almost to a full moon, and that’s when all the crazies come out!” She hollers as I crawl into my driver’s seat.

Shaking my head, I just shut my car door, crank it up, then head out to grab some breakfast to take home. I’m too damn exhausted to cook, so a drive thru it is.

After picking up a breakfast sandwich and some orange juice, I drive home, thankful I survived my first shift. By the time I pull into my driveway, my food is consumed, and I’m ready to soak in a hot bath to soothe the ache in my leg. I know I’ll get stronger, but until that happens, I suspect I’ll be investing in a lot of Epsom salts.

* * *

With everything finally gathered and organized for the next day, I collapse into my bed, eager to sleep until I have to get up, get ready, eat, and leave. “Let’s see if I can make it through an episode or two before I pass out,” I muse, grabbing my remote, and opening up my recordings list. I’m hooked on a first responder show, but I prefer to binge watch several episodes at a time, instead of waiting impatiently each week for the next one to air.

As I drift into dreamland, my show forgotten, and my e-reader idly laying by my side, Jett comes to mind, consuming my thoughts.

“If only…” I murmur.