“He is able to return once he’s symptoms free for twenty-four hours.”
“He should be fine by Monday, but I will keep you updated.” As I stand to pack up my laptop and paperwork, I’m reminded that as much as I hate my job, this is exactly why I do it.
I shoot a quick text to my boss, telling her that Jax is sick and I’ll be working remotely the rest of the day,and possibly Monday. The next call is to my mom.
“How’s he doing?” I ask once she picks up.
“Hi sweetie. He’s okay, sleeping now.” She lowers her voice as she continues, “Did the school call?”
“Yeah, they called but I was on the phone and didn’t even realize it.”
“That’s okay, that’s what daddy and I are here for. Just so you know, he had diarrhea and wasn’t able to hold it. He barely made it out of the classroom and some kids saw. The teacher said hewas really embarrassed. I haven’t talked to him about it, but you might want to bring it up once he’s feeling better.”
My heart aches for the poor kid. How humiliating. “I will, momma. I’m leaving work now, but I want to run to the store to pick up a few things for him for the weekend. Are you okay keeping him for a little bit?”
“Of course honey, take your time.”
I hang up with her and open my phone again to read the text messages that keep coming through.
Rhonda: Must have caught a flu bug at the party, is anyone else’s kid sick?
Shane: They were fine until early this morning, got sent home from school sick.
Richard: I don’t know if this has anything to do with it but I feel compelled to mention that the potato salad I brought had sat in my car all day, maybe the sun spoiled the mayo.
“Maybe the sun spoiled the mayo.” That little fucker. I add him to my shit list, second behind Tom.
Poor kid doesn’t have the flu, he likely has food poisoning. If he wasn’t so sick, I’d laugh at the karma delivered to the men-only cookout.
Slinging my laptop bag and tote over my shoulder, I lock my desk drawers and head towards the hall that leads to the ER.
I haven’t heard from Jim yet today, which is unusual. He should be working, and while it’s possible the ER is slammed, nerves begin to churn in my stomach that he ate the rancid potato salad at last night’s BBQ and isn’t feeling well.
It’s been a long time since I’ve roamed the back halls to the ER. They tend to be fairly quiet, usually used by transport staff to bring patients from the ER to their designated room. Once I reach the double automatic doors, they open and the soundsof phones ringing and monitors beeping leak out. The rush of adrenaline kicks in and I take a deep breath, feeling myself awaken a little with the chaos. If things were different, I really think I’d love working in the ER. It’s hands-on, fast paced, never stopping, doing what you have to do for your patient right in front of you.
I pause at the mouth of the ER, looking for the familiar head of blond hair, but coming up blank. I saunter over to the nurse’s station, standing near a nurse who’s seated and on the phone. Her eyes flit up to mine, and I give a small smile, hoping she can see the Grace General badge hanging from the lanyard around my neck.
I keep my eyes peeled, wondering if I’ll see Jim coming out of a room. The ambulance bay doors open, and EMS rushes in with a gurney with a male that is sitting up, looking around, seemingly unphased by the stress of the situation. My eyes fall to his leg, and notice it’s mangled, his ankle twisted in the opposite direction, and my first thought is damn, I wish I could see them try to splint that.
“Can I help you?”
I turn back to the woman at the desk, who’s off the phone and now has her hands propped on her hips, practically tapping a foot with irritation.
“Hi, yes, is Ji—Is Dr. Charlebois working today?”
“And who are you?”
That’s none of your business, but okay. “A friend. I need to talk with Dr. Charlebois.”
I meet her firm stare with my own, noticing now that she’s around my age, with pretty blonde hair and a face that would be soft if she didn’t have such a stick up her ass. Chances are she has the hots for Jim, and she’s wondering why I’m sniffing around.
Jealousy leaks hot into my veins that she gets to work side by side with him, laughing at his jokes and getting to see him in hiselement, but I stifle that feeling down and lift my badge higher so she can see. “I’m not a stranger coming in, I’m also a nurse here. Just tell me where he is please.”
She huffs, “He called in today, stomach issues.”
Shit.
“He must be really sick, too. I’ve seen that man work through walking pneumonia. He’ll slap on a mask and work a double shift without complaining, so the fact that he called in must mean he’s hurting, bad.”
