Just as I said, “Have you ever focused in on your economy of motion in a procedure? Do that the rest of this week. I mean, really pay attention to how many moves you’re making,” Henry asked, “Just how many times have you and Dr. Mercer delivered babies outside of delivery rooms?”
We laughed for a second and it felt like permission to walk away from the stiff, crisp words I’d rehearsed. I leaned back against the pillows, folding my legs in front of me. “Today is probably the fifth or sixth time I’ve been there, but Meri’s delivered at least twenty babies. Probably more. She’s stopped keeping track.”
“Does it ever get old?”
“I don’t think so, but I’m not usually the one doing all the work,” I said. “Already reconsidering your future in trauma surgery?”
“Not necessarily,” he said, though the hesitation in his voice was so charming. I loved everything about it.
“You should figure that out sooner than later. Obstetrics is a whole different specialty program.”
“I know, but it was—it was fun, right? Or is that what everyone says their first time?”
I dropped my head back against the headboard. I finally felt like I could breathe again. “Either they hate it and want nothing to do with OB ever again or they are blown away by the fact they helped a new human arrive into the world. There’s not much in between.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” he said softly. “Iwasblown away.”
“More so than all those mountainside rescues? The ones with the helicopters and avalanches and people impaled on their own ski poles?”
“Would you believe I only ran one avalanche rescue in all those years?”
“It’s still more than most people.” I pushed some hair away from my forehead and took a breath. “Thank you for the pens. And the coffee. And the cupcake.”
A raspy sound came through the line and I knew immediately that he was running his knuckles over the beard scruff on his jaw. My whole body clenched. I could crack a nut between my thighs right about now.
It was ridiculous.
I didn’t want it to stop.
“I was beginning to wonder if you’d noticed,” he said.
“And I was trying to figure out how you pulled it off.”
“You have your tricks, I have mine.”
“That’s not an answer,” I said. “At least tell me how you got my coffee order right.”
He cleared his throat. “Fine. I snapped a pic of your cup during rounds a few weeks ago and then I showed it to the barista.”
“I can’t decide if I’m impressed or concerned that you have enough time on your hands during rounds that you can take photos without me noticing.”
“Be impressed,” he said. “It works out better for me that way.”
“Hmm. I’ll think about it.” After a moment of comfortable silence, I asked, “What do you want to talk about, Henry?”
He didn’t hesitate to say, “Everything, Whit.”
Twelve
Henry
Transplant Surgery Rotation:
Day 7, Week 4
We talkedfor hours that night and talked abouteverything—except work. Neither of us had to say it, but we both knew where the line was and went nowhere near it. That was not a problem because there was so much more to discuss than the hospital and all the ways our positions complicated things.
And then we did it again the next night.
