I’m glad to see Dr. Noah adjusting well to the unit. These random questions that deviate from our regular day to day in the ER have been a welcome reprieve when I feel the day start to weigh on me. Usually, he has a bigger audience with the steady flow of nurses coming and going through the station, but it just so happens they’re occupied with other matters at the moment.
“So, are these new cats, or…”
“My sister’s cat just had babies, and I took two of them in.” He swivels his phone screen, showing me two baby kittens with an assortment of black and white patches. “All they’ve done is rip up the socks in my hamper and cry all night.”
I know I said I’m a dog person, but the two sets of yellowish-green eyes looking back at me makes a squeaky “aww” squeeze through my lips. Maybe I’m not as much of a dog person as I thought. Maybe, with the right feline, I can shift into a cat person and make myself and Dr. Noah less unsuited.
“And you want to medicate these poor innocent babies? Shame on you, Dr. Noah.”
He smirks, taking his phone back and tucking it away in his pocket. “Don’t let those sweet faces fool you. I’m down to my last pair of socks.”
I laugh, and Dr. Noah does too. The two of us are caught in an innocent exchange when Betty slumps into the empty seat next to mine.
“What’s so funny?” she asks, her focus on the chart she’s urgently flipping through.
“Dr. Noah is dabbling in veterinary medicine.”
Betty’s brow shoots up, her eyes still on the chart. “I think that takes an entirely different field of study, but you know, whatever career choice you go with, we all support you, Dr. Noah.”
I giggle at the same time Betty finally lifts her gaze from the chart. Her deep blue eyes dart from me to Dr. Noah who has his elbows braced on the counter. She tucks a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear and gives me a look meant to convey a question, but I ignore it.
“Well, good luck, Dr. Noah.” I stand from my seat and turn to Betty. “I’m on lunch in case you need me.”
She nods, and I round the corner to leave the station. Once in the breakroom, with my freshly heated frozen dinner, I settle in for the next half hour. I’m mindlessly scrolling through my phone when it buzzes with a new message. A light snort rattles my throat when I see a new text message. From Andrew.
Andrew
Did we decide whether or not multiple moose are called meese?
I abandon the plastic fork in my hand that was jabbing at a sauce-covered piece of penne pasta and tap out a response.
Grace
I think the third round of tequila shots arrived before we came to a conclusion.
Andrew
But meese sounds pretty accurate, right?
Grace
Have you Googled it?
Andrew
You can’t cheat!
I laugh, wondering where this sudden intrusion is coming from. But, with how entertaining my lunch break is turning out to be, it hardly feels like an intrusion at all.
Grace
Is there a reason for this midday text interruption? Aren’t you at work?
Andrew
That’s exactly why I’m texting. I need a break from my day.
Grace
