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I think, anyway.
I groan and bury my face in my hands. I look at my watch and realize it’s time to drive to work. I quickly fire off a text back that simply says, “Hi,” because I really don’t have the time to come up with anything better. Then I shove my feet into my crocs and am out the door, coffee still glued to my hand.
The drive to the hospital only takes me twenty minutes, but I sit in my car for five more, soaking in the sun coming through the windows and contemplating the work day ahead of me. My manager, Tony, has been up my ass since the minute I worked my first shift the day we got back to Harborview. He’s given me extra paperwork to fill out because I need to start “pulling my weight” and it’s apparently “piled up in my absence.” It’s clear he didn’t like the way I hung up on him the other day, but I’ve decided not to worry about whether I lose my job or not. They’d be hard pressed to find another nurse with my qualifications out here. I have a bachelor’s degree in nursinganda master’s degree in nursing and acute care as well, meaning I’m as qualified as Tony is to be the charge nurse for the ER.
I head into the hospital and am greeted by the smell of antiseptic, and Aline, a quiet but friendly nurse who started around the same time as I did. We’re working the same shift today. I haven’t seen her since I got back, and she gives me a big smile.
“Welcome back! How was your trip?”
“My trip?” I ask, raising a brow at her.
“Yeah, Tony said you were away on an island somewhere. I think that’s great. We don’t get enough vacations around this place,” she says, continuing to look and sound cheerful, which reassures me that she’s not fucking with me, Tony is just a rat.
I sigh, and consider what I should do. I can tell her that the charge nurse is lying, and that I was stranded, or I can give a vague answer and brush her off. But something about the wayshe said “we don’t get enough vacations” makes me think that I’m not the only one who dislikes Tony.
“I was stranded on Isle North after a bad storm,” I tell her. “Tony knows all of this so I don’t know why he didn’t let the team know.”
“Oh my god. Are you okay? What happened?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I was with my uh…my friend,” I say, “and he basically saved us.”
“Ohhh, like a sexy friend?” she says, surprising me. Maybe my subtle dig at Tony’s leadership has endeared her to me.
“Um, sort of,” I say quietly. Why not be honest? She doesn’t know Carter and lives in Bar Harbor, not Harborview. “He’s this guy I’ve known for a while, and we used to date,” I say, and nearly laugh at how simple I’ve made it all sound.
“Well if anything happens between you two, I want to be the first to know,” Aline says.
We head into the staff area, put our things away, and then go check in with Tony.
“Hey you two,” he says and gives us a wink and a smile.
Ugh. Tony loves to act like he’s my best friend and conspirator at times, but it’s all a facade. He’ll be rude to me whenever it’s just the two of us, and then act all nice when I’m with other nurses. Aline’s comment earlier makes me wonder if he does the same thing to her.
“Aline, I want you on triage and Angela, you’ll be back here finishing the paperwork you were doing yesterday.”
“I finished everything,” I say sweetly.
Tony’s smile slips, but he recovers it and says, “Fine. You can triage with Aline.”
“Great,” I tell him with a fake smile that perfectly matches his.
Thank God for that. If I was stuck at this desk for one more day I’d cry. Especially since Tony has been having me do things that should be his job anyways, like the shift report.
It’s a busy shift, and we get a few kids with unidentified fevers, a woman who is dehydrated and feeling faint, and by the time it’s past 6 p.m. more than one person has come in feeling sick after drinking too much. We also get an older woman who is in diabetic shock.
By the time I leave and head to my moms’ for dinner, it’s well past 8 p.m. and I’m dead on my feet from rushing around all day, but I’m filled with a sense of contentment having been back helping patients instead of squirreled away doing paperwork. And I’m looking forward to my moms’ beer can grilled chicken.
Both my momsenvelope me in a hug as soon as I walk in the door. I’ve been so busy with work the last few days that this is the first time I’ve seen them since coming back. My mama holds on for longer than my mom, who has to go check on dinner outside, and her warmth seeps into me, and I feel myself fully relax for the first time in days. She’s wearing a familiar linen set that she loves in the springtime, with a colorful scarf wrapped around her dreadlocks. The familiarity of her presence almost makes me cry.
“Hi sweetie,” she says, and pats me on the cheek. “How are you?” Worry fills her eyes.
“I’m okay,” I reassure her. “I promise. Carter took care of me while we were on the island.”
“Good. I’m glad that boy stepped up for you.”
I follow her into the kitchen, where my mom is setting the table, and the chicken is steaming on the counter.
“Donna made cornbread,” my mom says. “And we’ve got margaritas going if you want one.”
