Chapter 5

Sunday

By the time my actual scheduled shift is done, I’m beyond toasted. As I slip my Crocs off and my tennis shoes on, I bag them up to take home and run through the washing machine, along with the other two sets of scrubs I’ve gone through and exchanged thanks to all the projectile vomiting that occurred in the ER. Thankfully, some of the kids didn’t have to be admitted because they didn”t eat their whole lunch, but there are still enough who were that our hospital is temporarily closed to any incoming traumas. I’m sure it won’t stop the emergency room from hopping when I’m on shift again, but I’m off for the next two nights.

“I definitely need it, too,” I mumble, grabbing my stuff and pulling out my keys. My goal is to hit up the Tasty Chick drive-thru, buy a family-size bucket of chicken along with the sides, then spend the next two days recovering. Hopefully, they’ll be open since it’s still early for fast-food operating hours, but if not, I’ll figure something else out. With all the charting I had to complete before I could officially clock out and leave, I’m starving since I had to skip several of my breaks, and my belly is rumbling in protest even as my feet drag, and my eyes droop.

Once inside my car, with the bag of dirty scrubs and my Crocs tucked inside the trunk, I head out of the parking lot toward restaurant row so I can order some of the best chicken I’ve ever had. As my phone syncs to the Bluetooth in my car, I hear the pings of all the missed calls and texts. Hitting the message icon, I listen to each one, grinning when I hear the robotic female reading my mom’s message, which is a play by play of what she’s taken care of for me since I was called into work before my shift began.

“You’re the best, Mom,” I state once given the option to reply. “I’m grabbing food for the next few days then holing up in my bed. Hopefully, there won’t be any emergencies come through the hospital that get me recalled into work, because I’m not gonna lie, I’m in a lot of pain.”

My phone immediately rings, and her concerned voice reverberates from the other end of the line. “Honey, I grabbed some Epsom salts when I was out and about running my daily errands. I stored them in your bathroom’s medical supply cabinet for you, be sure you take a long soak and use some please.”

Laughing, I remark, “Definitely, they’ve been a lifesaver.”

I’m sure my surgeon would frown on how much I moved around during the influx of students that walked in needing to be seen. From what Moira said when I was caught rubbing my aching limbs, shifts aren”t normally that bad and raucous. The situation with the school, however, was something completely unprecedented. I do know the trauma response team plans to implement an emergency protocol should something like this ever happen again.

“I also hit up the grocery store and stocked you up on the things I know you like, sweetie,” she reveals.

“Mom, I’m all grown up now, remember? Plus, I live on my own,” I state.

“You may be an adult, but you’ll always be my little girl. When I heard what happened, I figured you’d be working overtime, so took one of your chores on. That’s all, no more, and no less,” she retorts. “If I can’t help my own daughter, who else can I help?”

“Thanks, Mom. I do appreciate it because I’ll be doing laundry until I return to work,” I grumble. “I’m kinda glad I’m a bit over the top about some things though, because at least, I had clean scrubs to change into.”

“It’s always a good idea to have a backup set. Your grandma told me that trick when I first started working in the nursing field.”

“I went through both pairs of my backups,” I admit, snickering. “And my Crocs get to go into the wash as well.”

“Good heavens, it was that bad?” she asks. “You know I don’t want the particulars because you can’t tell me, but I must have misheard the rumors because I didn’t think it was too horrible and outrageous.”

“Well, we had a large group in one room since the parents and kids all knew each other, and before the anti-nausea meds took hold, there was quite a bit of projectile vomiting going on,” I disclose to her, snickering when she makes a gagging noise. “What? It’s not like you haven’t had people do the same to you when you were working on the floor.”

“Yeah, I know, and it made me gag then, too,” she sasses. “Get yourself home, take a good, hot soak, then make sure you take some of your pain meds, honey. That’s what they’re for, and I know you’re probably hurting like hell.”

“I almost feel like I did after my first few surgeries. But I’ll be sure to do what you suggest once I inhale half of my chicken that I’m about to order,” I tease.

“You and your chicken. I swear you’re going to grow feathers one of these days. You let me know if you need me to do anything else. I saw the reminder notice that Princess Pudge is due to go to the vet for her shots on your refrigerator.”

“Yeah, she’s due for her next round, then, I’ll get her spayed. She had no clue what she was in for the day she showed up on my back porch, did she?” I question, giggling.

“She’s definitely spoiled, but I’m sure she’s lonely when you’re gone. Have you considered getting a second pet to keep her occupied?”

“Already planning on me being a crazy cat lady, Mom?”

“Not at all, but during your shifts, they’ll keep each other company, honey. Besides, I heard you were seen talking to Jett Blake last weekend at Ike’s.”

I roll my eyes, even though she can’t see me, as I pull up to the drive-thru. “Hang on, Mom, let me place my order.” Once I’ve done so, and pulled around to wait for my delicious yumminess, I continue where I left off before pausing our conversation. “He was there when I went out with Bria, and he bought the two of us a round of drinks. I went over to thank him.”

“I see.”

Hmm. Those two words hold a wealth of ‘Mom’ in them, so I wait patiently to see what else she’s going to come up with, grinning like a lunatic which probably has more to do with how tired I am, than the fact she mentioned his name.

“I think you should let him know you’re interested, Sunday,” she finally says.

“Mom!” I exclaim. “How does one simple conversation over a drink translate to me being interested?”

“Sunday Marie Cross, you can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to your mother,” she admonishes me. “You’ve always liked that boy, so why not show him?”

“Maybe because he has more to consider than just himself? He’s got a kid, remember? Plus, who’s to say he’d want to get involved with me anyhow? I definitely don’t look the way I did in high school.”

“Sunday… really? You’re going to go there with me? Your daddy hasn’t said or even acted like my mastectomy scars bother him.”

“Daddy’s one of the good ones, Mom. Not all men are like him,” I retort, thinking of Jonas and his reaction when I was first injured and hospitalized.

“Not all men are like that good-for-nothing ex of yours, sweetie. I suspect Jett’s more like your dad in that regard than you think. What would it hurt?”

Nothing except my heart shattering into a gazillion pieces if I’m rejected by him.

“Fine. If the situation presents itself, I’ll let him know I’d be interested in seeing him as more than friends, okay?”

She sounds almost giddy when she confesses, “That’s all I want, sweetie.”

The clerk knocks on my window, and I roll it down to take the bag and thank her for bringing it out to me. “Mom, gotta go, hot, fresh chicken is now onboard.”

“Heaven forbid I come between you and your food. Love you, Sunday. Be careful and I’ll talk to you later on when you wake up.”

“Love you too, Mom. Bye!”

* * *

“Okay, Pudge, now that we’ve got the clothes going, let’s go take a hot bath while I eat some chicken,” I say to the kitten who’s been purring at my feet. Leaning over, I pick her up, and cuddle her as she licks my face with her sandpapery tongue. “I love you too, fuzzy butt.”

I make a plate of food, then store the rest for later, before heading into my en suite. Once I’ve stripped off my work clothes, and tossed them into the hamper I use strictly for my scrubs, I start the water in the tub, then go into my closet where my dresser is, and find a comfy nightshirt to wear after I’m done. As I slide into the water, I groan. My body aches letting me know I’ve done too much.

“Can’t be helped, Pudge,” I tell her as she curls up on the wide ledge to watch me eat. I’m pointing a chicken leg at her, but she doesn’t grab for it, which I’m impressed by. Instead, she meows as though she’s agreeing with me. “Your grandma thinks you need a companion, what do you think?”

She meows again and I nod. “You’re right. You will be lonely when I’m at work. How about I check the shelter to see if there’s anyone you might like?”

Moving closer to me, she nudges my head then trills before she takes a running jump and leaves the bathroom behind. “Yeah, I’m kind of done with myself too, little girl. Time to focus so I can take some meds and get some much-needed rest.”