"What's a ten?" she sniffles.
"Me kissing you six years ago and making you run away. That's a ten. This is a two. Maybe a three if Pedro's system was really complicated."
"It was alphabetical," I admit.
"Then this is a one point five." Carlos pats her knee, the gesture easy and familiar. "We've all done worse. Nacho once arrested his own cousin at Thanksgiving dinner for an unpaid parking ticket."
"She had seventeen unpaid tickets," Nacho's voice carries from the hallway.
"See?" He grins at Jessica, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "That's at least a six. Your filing reorganization doesn't even crack the top five pack disasters."
She hiccups a laugh, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Really?"
"Really." He stands and offers her his hand, palm up. "Come on. Pedro's going to be here all night fixing this. Let's get you home, fed, and convinced that you're not the worst person in the world."
She takes his hand and lets him pull her up. Her legs wobble slightly. He steadies her with a hand on her elbow.
They move toward the door, her footsteps shuffling, his boots heavy on the tile. He pauses in the doorway and glances back at me over his shoulder.
"Want us to bring you dinner later?"
"I'm fine."
"That's not what I asked." He's still looking at me, one hand on the doorframe, the other still holding Jessica's.
Despite everything, my mouth twitches. "Bring food. Nothing spicy."
"Got it. Come on, Jess. Let's leave Dr. Grumpy to his alphabetizing."
The door chimes behind them, leaving me alone with six hours of reorganizing and the lingering trace of her scent.
I get to work.
The next morning, Jessica arrives at seven-thirty. Half an hour early. Her eyes are red-rimmed but determined.
"I stayed up last night learning medical filing systems," she announces. "Last name, first name, date of birth. Color-coded tabs for different conditions. I've got it."
I hand her a cup of coffee. Black. She makes a face but drinks it anyway.
"New task today," I say. "Wellness reminder texts. List is on the computer. Template is in the system. Send to everyone who's due for their annual checkup."
Her shoulders relax slightly. "Just texts? No filing?"
"No filing."
"I can do texts."
She settles behind the desk with visible relief. I retreat to my office to catch up on paperwork. The files are back in order, more or less. My fingers are still cramped from eight hours of reorganizing. But the system is intact. No permanent damage.
For two hours, the clinic runs without incident.
Then my phone starts buzzing.
I pull it out and glance at the screen.
Sergio:Did you really send this to the whole town?
Nacho:Please tell me this is a joke.
