Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“You don’t need to ply me with the good wine,” I protested, continuing to be vaguely uncomfortable with the amount of effort Magnus had gone to on my behalf alone. “I’m a sure thing for later.”
“It would be a sin to have cheap wine with this meal. I already opened the bottle, so you might as well drink up.” Sitting across from me, Magnus toasted me with his wine glass. “Cheers. Eat up too.”
I didn’t need any further urging to enjoy the meal. The pork was salty, garlicky perfection with crisp edges and tender meat, while the potatoes were the star of the show, utter bliss in carb form. Creamy. Cheesy. Expertly seasoned. I could easily eat them for three meals running and undoubtedly still want more.
“Man.” I groaned around another mouthful of potatoes. “Maybe I did need this meal.”
“Told you. You should let me take care of you more often.” Eyes sparkling, Magnus took another sip of wine before sobering. “Hard shift?”
I waved off the question. “I’m not going to ruin your efforts with shop talk.”
“Conversation isn’t ruining anything, and maybe talking about it will help you relax more, which is the whole point here.” Unlike Montgomery, who would have had a definite agenda with a dinner-party meal like this, Magnus seemed genuinely content to let me drive the conversation.
And his nineties alternative playlist didn’t hurt, underscoring that while the wine might be a similar price point, the dinner partner was quite different.
“Maybe.” I paused, trying to put the funk that had plagued my last two shifts into words. “We didn’t lose anyone, but I’m increasingly frustrated with calls where the patient declines transport to the hospital mainly because of money worries. There’s not much I can say in those cases.”
I couldn’t lie and tell them not to worry about the bills because I knew firsthand how harrowing medical bills could be. I could strongly advise them to seek care, but I couldn’t force a conscious, competent adult into the ambulance. In many cases, the patient wasn’t the one to call for the ambulance, so there was often a fair bit of anger to navigate as well.
Magnus made a soothing noise. “And that’s hard because you’d like to be able to use logic and reason to get them to go in.”
“Exactly.” I quirked my lips, not sure I liked how easily he’d pinpointed my primary issue. “Am I that predictable?”
“A little. I see your same attitude in Wren. Family trait?” Magnus gave a warm laugh. “It’s natural, though, to want to use science to solve a problem. It sucks that people have to worry about money and insurance in the middle of an emergency.”
“Exactly. It hinders my ability to provide good care, and there’s not an easy solution.” I rolled my shoulders, stretching my surprisingly tense back muscles. “You’re right in that I prefer straightforward problems or at least ones I can solve with my medical skills.”
“One thing I’ve found in my years tending bar is that there is value in simply listening.” Magnus reached across the table to pat my hand. “Just by showing up on the scene, you are making a difference, even if it feels like shoveling snow at the North Pole.”
“True.” I exhaled hard, another wave of stress leaving. I wasn’t about to change professions or stop responding to calls, even ones where I had a strong suspicion we’d return with an empty rig. “And I suppose that’s all I can do—keep showing up, hoping and working for change, but being there nonetheless.”
“And cut yourself some slack too.” Magnus squeezed my hand, peering deeply into my eyes. “You’re only human.”
“I’ll try.” I nodded, my throat strangely tight but my shoulders far lighter. “And okay, you weren’t wrong. Talking did help. And the wine likely didn’t hurt either.”
“Good.” Magnus used that opportunity to top off our glasses and turn the conversation to lighter topics like the annual secret Santa exchange I orchestrated among the teens of the house.
As we finished eating, I couldn’t believe how relaxed I felt. Pleasantly buzzed from the wine, yes, but there was also something to the company and the effort Magnus had made to create a nice night for us.
“Let me help you clean up.” Standing, I reached for his empty plate, but he batted my hand, instead pulling me away from the table.
“Later.”
“Later?” I frowned. In all my forty-odd years, I hadn’t ever been one to skip cleanup, which Mangus well knew.
“Live dangerously. The dishes will wait. This song won’t.” He pulled me into a stiff approximation of a slow dance. I wanted to argue that the dishes wouldn’t take five minutes, but the song was from the first movie we’d watched together. The serendipity of it coming up in the playlist at this exact moment had me shutting my mouth and letting Magnus lead us in a gentle sway.