Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Until Josie, that is.
“Okay, maybe it’s a little weird,” I admit in defeat.
“It’s weird,” she says staunchly. “For me too, though. I’ve never had just a guy friend. It’s kind of cool.”
“So you’re saying sex is off the table?” I ask her with a lewd smile.
Josie looks me up and down, giving an exaggerated grimace as she takes me in. “Yeah…not going to happen.”
“Whatever,” I tease her as I motion with my hand to my fabulous body. “You’d fall down in worship if I let you have a crack at this.”
“I think we need to make a stop in the neurology department,” she quips as she turns away from me. “You need an MRI of the brain or something.”
The doors to the elevator open up to the lobby, and I laugh at our easy bantering, knowing deep in my heart that there’s something underneath all this friendly ribbing. I loop my arm back around Josie’s neck, again the way a brother might do to show affection to his sister, but only I know that I’m doing it because I happen to the like the way she feels against me.
Chapter 6
Josie
“Dr. Ives,” I hear from behind me, and turn to see one of the nurses poking her head into the on-call office.
“What’s up?” I say with a smile. While most nurses are all about brisk efficiency in their communications, I always make sure I have a welcoming tone when they need something. I’ve seen too many asshole doctors cause undue stress on nurses with their attitudes.
“Dr. Mills asked for your assistance in exam number two,” she says. “Six-year-old needing some stitches.”
I nod and push up out of my chair, bending over to lock the computer screen on the keyboard. I head over to exam two with my shoulders squared, because putting stitches into a kid is often a job for two doctors.
Kevin Mills smiles at me when I walk in. He’s sitting on a stool next to the bed, a little blond boy lying there with a piece of gauze taped to the top of his forehead. On the other side of the bed is a young woman in her midtwenties whom I presume is the boy’s mother.
“Ahhh, here’s Dr. Ives now,” Kevin says to the little boy as I walk in. “She’s the best doctor in the entire emergency room, next to me of course, so she’s going to help me make you all better.”
The little boy looks at me dubiously with the threat of imminent tears shining in his eyes.
“Dr. Ives, this is Peter. He took a little fall off the monkey bars and has a bit of a cut on his head.”
I give Peter a warm, reassuring smile as I step forward to take a look.
“Hi, Peter. My name is Dr. Ives, but you can call me Josie. I’m going to take a quick peek at the cut so we can decide how to best fix you up.”
More tears well up in the little boy’s eyes. A quick glance at his mom and I see she’s got matching ones in hers. I smile confidently at her and turn back to Peter. When I pull the bandage back he asks me in a tremulous voice, “Are you going to stick a needle in me?”
I take in the laceration, which is only about a centimeter long, but it’s deep. It’s near his hairline, so scarring won’t be much of an issue.
Pressing the bandage back down, I bend over and give him a tiny tap on his chest. “Peter, we are going to have to put a few stitches in your skin to close the cut. But you won’t feel it because we’re going to give you some medicine first.”
Apparently this is not Peter’s first rodeo because he says, “But you have to put a needle in me to give me the medicine, right?”
I look at him knowingly. “Have you done this before?”
He shakes his head and the first tears slide down his face. “No, but my big brother had to have them once.”
Peter’s mother leans over and strokes his face. “It won’t hurt very much, honey, and then you won’t feel anything.”
Little Peter isn’t having any of it. He starts shaking his head and crying in earnest. “I don’t want to. Please don’t make me, Mommy.”
A slight glance over to Kevin, who shoots me back the same knowing look.
This is not going to be easy.
But with kids, it never is.
—
“I owe you one, Josie,” Kevin says as we walk out of the exam room. Helping him put stitches in the little boy put me forty-five minutes over my shift. But that’s okay. I can’t remember a day I ever left the emergency room on time, and that’s just the nature of the beast.
“Not a problem,” I tell him as we walk down to the medical staff’s locker room. “It will be less than two weeks before I will need your assistance in the same exact way.”