Bitterdidn't have a place in my life. I'd always had it easy, and losing what little contact I had with my wife to two months in the Arctic Circle wasn't the worst thing in the world. It was really fucking frustrating and I was still pissed about the pediatric neurosurgery board certification exam falling during the one week that our schedules spoke to each other, but I wasn't bitter.
Although if I didn't see her soon, I'd get there.
I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my alerts. It was a good distraction from the chatter around me, and Matt and Lauren's Thanksgiving celebration was low-key enough to endure phones at the table. Riley was on his phone too, but the glazed-over look in his eyes told me he wasn't focused on the content.
I was on call for the next few hours, but I'd discharged my last three patients this morning, and my service didn't take many hits on this particular holiday. Cardio, gastro, emergency medicine, they took the hits.
"Oooh, I think that's them," Lauren whispered, popping up from her chair. "Remember—we're all being nice and friendly and not weird. Got it?"
Matt refilled his red wine, shaking his head. "You say that as if you're not speaking directly to Patrick. I'm nice. I'm the nicest one here."
"Wrong. Miss Honey's the nicest one here," Riley said, invoking the nickname he'd chosen for Lauren.
Looking up from my phone, I rolled my eyes at Riley. He didn't even try to hide his obsession with her.
"You're all wrong," Andy said, taking the wine bottle from Matt. "I'm definitely the nicest one here."
That earned a hearty round of laughter. No one would mistake Andy for warm or fuzzy.
Sam appeared in the doorway, a dark-haired woman carrying a pie dish at his side. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place that familiarity.
"Hi," Lauren said as she approached them. "You must be Tiel. I'm Lauren, and I'm so happy to meet you. Come on, sit down."
I wasn't up to date on Sam's new girlfriend, or any other family developments. I'd been spending all of my free evenings with Erin, or as close as I could get to her. This distance was good. Too much time around happy couples like Matt and Lauren and Patrick and Andy only reminded me that I didn't get to spend every day with Erin, and it encouraged the bitterness to creep in.
Despite my absence, I knew it was fairly remarkable that Sam was introducing a woman to his family, since he was a card-carrying manwhore and had the one-night stand market on lock. But people grew and changed, even stubborn-minded Walshes. I was counting on it.
"So you've met Patrick and Andy," Lauren said to Tiel, gesturing down the table. "That's Matthew, he belongs to me." Matt tugged her onto his lap. "That's Riley, and Nick."
Riley was staring at the ceiling and offered little more than a nod in Tiel's direction.
"I've met you before," I said, standing to shake her hand across the table. "Where have I met you?"
"I have no idea," she said, but it sounded likeShut the fuck up.
I tapped my phone on the table as I nodded. "It'll come to me," I said.
"I thought you weren't with us today," Sam called to me. He was in the adjoining kitchen, pouring himself a drink.
I grabbed a dish of paella—Matt and Lauren's version of Thanksgiving—and forked up a mouthful. "Technically, I'm on call," I said. "Until midnight. Then, you know, it's time to rage. Or whatever people who have lives do these days."
"And byrage, you mean you'll be hanging out at the hospital?" Sam asked.
Laughing, I murmured in agreement. It was much simpler than telling him I'd be stealing video chat moments with his sister before she, the one I'd married six months ago, left for the North Pole. That, and Erin had to be the one to tell them. Yeah, I could drop that morsel right now, just nestle it in between the paella and empanadas and sit back while everyone blew it far out of proportion, and take this one for Erin. That was the quick and dirty solution. It would save me from many months of lies by omission, and her from a confrontation she obviously didn't welcome. But I wasn't playing the short game, and I didn't think Erin was either.
"Is this tapas?" Sam asked, frowning at a dish of grilled corn with cotija cheese.
"Yes," Matt said from the far end of the table. Lauren was still on his lap, and now he had one hand tucked right between her knees. Riley was still staring at the ceiling. This was either really good exposure therapy, or the worst night imaginable for him. Probably both. "With the Black Widow in New Mexico, no one reminded Tom to pick up the turkey. So, we called Toro last night and ordered everything on the menu."
"Who's Tom?" Tiel asked.
"Shannon's assistant," Sam said. "Has anyone determined whether she's actually in New Mexico?"
"We are not talking about this. She's entitled to a little space," Lauren said, holding up her hands as if she was keeping Sam and Matt in their respective corners. "Instead of dragging all that drama out like a prize pig at the county fair, why don't you two tell us how you met?"
"It certainly wasn't the way Sam usually meets women," Tiel said, and she was either really fucking hilarious or a prickly pear cactus disguised as a human lady. Not that prickly pears weren't great. My grandmother made the best prickly pear jam. I didn't even like cornbread unless I could drown it in her jam, but finding the fruit required getting past the thorns.
"We met over Labor Day weekend," Sam said. "Tiel introduced me to bluegrass, and a few other things."
