She’s outrageous, but I chuckle along. “I’m out. I’ve got to get a few hours of sleep before the boys get home. And then I have my brother’s engagement party tonight.” Jenny nods and tosses her empty container into the trash.
“I’ll walk with you to the elevator.” She pulls the door open and lowers her voice as I walk through. “So did you have Mama Bear or Greta the Grouch as supervisor last night?”
I glance around for listening ears before I answer. “Grouch.” I shake my head and shove my hands inside my scrubs. “She’s a real you know what, and apparently I’m on her shit list.” I don’t even want to think about it. The soft, cool comforter of my bed is calling me. With the blackout shades drawn, I’ll be passed out in minutes. It’s almost cruel punishment that I still have a thirty minute commute to battle.
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me, girlfriend. Sammie said she’s been after everyone lately. I hear she’s going through a bad divorce, but that doesn’t give her an excuse to be a bitch.” I cringe a little and Jenny gasps. “Oh, gawd. I’m sorry, Carly, I didn’t mean it that way. And I wasn’t even talking about you.”
I muster a smile, “Yeah, I know, Jen. No worries.” I wave as we pass the nurses’ station. Three of my co-workers sit at the desks, huddled together, and likely trading conspiracy theories. In our pediatric oncology unit we are close, a family away from our families, and everyone knows everything about everyone. And if they don’t, they speculate, make up stories.
“Carly!” Heather calls out. I turn back to find a phone cradled between her head and her shoulder as she waves me over. “You’ve got a call, hun.” Strange. I pull my cell out to check once more. No missed calls. I wonder who it is.
“I better get that.” I smile at Jen. She pulls me in for a quick hug.
“We’ll catch up later. I should get to work, anyway. Love you, girl!” Jenny walks away and I head back to the nurses’ station. Heather hands me the phone and I lean over the desk to rest the speaker over my ear.
“Carly Reynolds speaking.” The line crackles and I push the phone tighter against my head. Silence stretches. I try once more. “This is Carly speaking. How can I help you?”
“Hello.” The familiar gravel baritone sends chills down my spine and I drop the phone; the plastic shell clatters to the desk. My heart hammers in my chest and I struggle for breath. The room spins.
“Carly. Carly, hun, you okay? You’re white as a ghost.” Heather rushes around the desk and grips my arm. She pulls me to sit in an empty chair. I resist the urge to throw up. “Breathe. Just take deep breaths. Is everything okay? The boys aren’t hurt, are they?” My boys. I shoot to my feet. I need to get to Eli and Ezra.
“Sorry. I’ve got to go. Heather, if anyone calls here for me again do not give them any information, okay?” She nods. A worried frown fills her face.
“You know I wouldn’t, hun. You sure you’re good to drive?”
“I’m fine.” I’m not, though. I turn and race down the hallway, thankful it’s still early enough not to be crowded full of visitors. Pushing out a side exit, I shove the door with all my force, only it doesn’t fully open. A pained grunt sounds instead. A man dressed in scrubs pulls the door the rest of the way open. One hand covers his face. I don’t recognize him, but a great many people work in this hospital.
“Shit, you really got me there.” His eyes blink rapidly, and though I can’t see all his features, his ice blue stare pulls my attention.
“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry. I’m in a rush and I didn’t see you. Are you hurt?” It’s then I notice the blood start to drip from his hands. “Oh, crap. I think you’re bleeding.”
“You think? You sure you made it through med school with those deduction skills?” He jokes and pulls his hand from his face. Even though blood trickles down his frowning face, he’s very handsome. And young. And with a full head of hair. This must be Hottie Doc, or whatever they call him.
“Well, I didn’t go to med school, so there’s that.” I pull several clean tissues from my bag and place them firmly over his nostrils. “I did graduate nursing school, so you’re in good hands.”
He moves to hold the tissues in place and our hands brush in the exchange. His eyes widen and goosebumps run down my arms at the contact. I instinctively pull away. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”
I brush past him, careful not to touch again. My hands tingle from where he grazed them and I chastise myself for getting caught up with a stranger at a time like this. I need to get to the boys’ school. See them with my own eyes. Touch them. Only then will I have any chance of getting sleep. I unlock my trusty Camry, tossing my bag in first before sliding in. The cool crisp October morning signals the best Arizona weather is just around the corner.
I take care at each turn and light, refusing to give thought to the earlier phone call lest I get in an accident. My body is tight, muscles taut, and I have to remind myself to inhale.
The boys’ school comes into view and I pull up to the red painted curb and throw my car into park. I don’t give a damn that it’s illegal. I run to the door and press the button to be buzzed inside.
“ID and name, please,” the scratchy voice calls from the speaker. I flip open my wallet, slide the license from its clear plastic holder, and lift it to the tiny camera. “Carly Reynolds, for Ezra and Eli.” The seconds tick by like hours until finally there is a loud click from the door. I reach out and pull it wide.
“Mrs. Reynolds, what can I do for you? Are you here to volunteer in one of the classrooms?” The receptionist smiles.
“No. Actually, I’m here to hug them.”
“Hug them? Mrs. Reynolds, surely you realize we can’t pull children out of class for that sort of thing. It disrupts their morning.” She pins me with a patronizing stare.
“Yes, I do. But I don’t care. They’re my children and I need to see them immediately. I also need to speak with the principal before I leave.”
“Well, Mrs. Bell is in a meeting. I’ll have to get back to you to arrange a time in her schedule.” She pulls the phone to her ear and calls each of the boys’ teachers, then requests my sons come to the office. When she replaces the receiver in its cradle I step to the edge of her desk.
“I will not leave until I speak with Mrs. Bell. I’ll sit here all damn day if I have to.” My patience is thin. I’m sleep deprived, and the mama bear inside has been woken from her den. No curly haired, middle-aged secretary will stand in the way of protecting my cubs.
“Are you threatening me, Mrs. Reynolds?” She gasps and rolls her chair away. My boys come into view and I drop to my knees.
“Mama!” they squeal and I open my arms, catching their hugs. I squeeze my eyes shut as tears threaten. I refuse to cry in front of them. My entire being settles. A feeling of peace consumes the worries from before. They’re safe.
I open my eyes and meet the accusing gaze of Ms. Gatekeeper. “No.” I murmur. “Not a threat. A promise.”
Thanks to my oldest daughter Abby who insisted I publish this book on her birthday as her gift. You can thank her for the deadline because it was daunting a few months ago and without her encouragement over the summer this book wouldn’t have happened so quickly. She’s only eleven but you’d never know it. I love you Abs and you inspire me to be a better person every day.
To my son, JD, who enjoys helping me brainstorm swag ideas and future book titles. He’s sort of brilliant with suggestions. He also looks for my books in bookstores and is confident I will be a famous writer one day, God bless him.
Little G, you’re the best two-year-old I know, nothing terrible about you. You already think it’s cool to waste hours in a café sipping iced tea while mom types away on the laptop. If you weren’t such an easygoing, joyful child I would not be pursuing this dream right now. Love you my little girly girl.