Still smiling, Bianca said, “Oh, you care?”
“It took me three months to train you. I hate training new scrub techs. If you were dead, I'd have to find a new one.”
“Yet you made it here somehow despite the snow.”
“I was going to stay home, but then some fool crashed a firetruck. A snowplow showed up at my house to make sure I made it in,” he didn’t sound happy about it.
“Terrible, the big bad doctor got a special house call instead of a peon like me who had to risk my life driving myself.”
“I’m not alone. Half of the internal medicine department lives in my neighborhood. Whoever runs the fire department made sure I wasn’t going to be alone.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the front of the ER.
“Mr. Lincoln,” Lillian started. There was zero family resemblance between Bianca and the man. Then again, there were some mixed chicks who you just couldn’t tell. Bianca had clearly missed out on the tall genes.
“He’s not my real dad. This is Dr. Joel Glazier from Ortho. His bark is way worse than his bite. Don’t let him push you around.”
Glazier spun to face her, “Who’s this? A resident?”
“I’m Dr. Hernandez, and I’m the attending admitting Ms. Lincoln.”
“To what service?”
“Pediatrics.”
“The hell you are. She demands a real doctor, not a babysitter.”
Unbidden tears sprang to Lillian’s eyes, and she took a deep breath, pushing away her desire to sob.
“Hey—” Bianca said.
“What? Pediatrics is glorified…” Glazier was winding up for a diatribe, typical from a male surgeon.
“Shut up!” Lilian’s words exploded outward. “I can intubate a one-pound baby with a coffee stirrer, and I bet a Klingon you like can barely hold a pen. I’m managing over one hundred patients by myself as the only pediatrician here. So, unless you want her to hang out in the ER for another forty-eight hours, let me do my job. In fact, make yourself useful and go get her a blanket from the laundry cart.”
Dr. Glazier’s glare at Lillian was defused by Bianca cracking up, “I’d like that blanket now.”
“If I get you the blanket, can she scrub into the surgery? They’re gonna stick me with Navarro and whatever fumble finger dummy they steal from urology.”
“No, she’s not scrubbing in; she’s on cardiac observation. The bear hugger stays, and she gets as many blankets as she wants,” Lillian added archly. “The laundry cart is in the supply room next to the pregnancy tests and the emesis basins.”
“Or you could find me a cute firefighter to put in the bed instead,” Bianca said, her teeth chattering.
“I’m leaving, and don’t you dare pull this shit again.” He stomped off.
“The supply closet’s over there,” Lillian called out and took a perverse joy in the black look he gave her.
The second he was gone, Lillian sagged against the bed. “Usually I have to ask if people feel safe at home. Do I need to ask if you feel safe at work?”
Bianca giggled, “He can be kind of rough. Like a bear trying to juggle.”
“Kind of rough?”
“He liked how you stood up to him. He gave up pretty easily this time. Usually his goal is to make his residents cry.”
“He does?” Lillian felt a little less bad about being ready to cry.
“You’re peds, so you don’t see Ortho surgery much. This is how they communicate, lions roaring at each other or a gorilla beating his chest.” Bianca pulled the blanket up to her chest.
“He's big enough to be a gorilla. And scary. But you're not scared?”
