Yes.
This is it.
I will quit drinking.
Cold turkey.
Easy.
Right?
Chapter Eight
Lorelie
“Hey, Gail,” I say as I walk into the ER, stopping beside the attending physician finishing the last hour of the shift before mine.
He looks up from the stack of papers he is signing. “Hey, Lorelie.”
Gail and I went through internship and residency together. We are not close personally, but we have what you would call a working relationship. Not the annoying “work husband, work wife” nonsense people joke about. More like… he is the one I call when I need to trade a shift or slip out for a school event, and I am the one he calls when he wants to duck out early or escape a twelve-hour shift from hell.
As long as at least one board-certified physician is in the ER at all times, management doesn’t care.
They pretend they do, but they don’t.
“Are they here yet?” I ask, sliding in beside him at the counter.
I nod at the charge nurse sitting on a chair behind the counter, arms crossed, listening without listening while Gail keeps flipping through discharge papers. He shakes his head, eyes still on the clipboard.
“Nope. Not yet.”
I nod, tapping my pen on the desk. Nervous energy. Or dread. Hard to tell the difference these days.
“So,” he says casually, “how was the ceremony?”
A real smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “It was good. He got a pin. Everyone clapped.”
The ceremony had fallen right at the end of my shift, so Gail had covered for me so I could leave early. Something he has done more than once, especially for family things. I owe him at least six favors at this point, ones he’s gonna cash in soon when he heads for the cross-country hike with his buddies.
He grins. “Sarge Boise. Look at him.”
“Yeah,” I say softly, looking down at the counter. “Look at him.”
He glances up at me, studying my expression for a beat too long, but I pretend not to notice. I don’t need pity today. I need a patient to roll in so I can shove my brain into doctor mode and not think about… anything else.
The doors to the admin hallway suddenly swing open. Charlize straightens.
“Looks like the new boss just arrived,” she mutters.
My pulse jumps.
The three of us watch… wait… lean forward a little.
Nothing. The door swings shut again without anyone stepping through.
We deflate together.
“Probably someone mistaking it for a washroom again,” Charlize sighs.
