“Oh, look! Your kid walked into a pole.” Tommy shoots between us and shoves Billy back a step, turning him toward Eliza’s watchful class. Then he spins and presses his hands to my shoulders. “You know you and Billy are banned from interacting when you’re on night shift.”
“Tommy—”
“No sleep makes you mean, and bitterness makes him stupid. Everyone knows you wanna save ‘em all, Ollie, and, fuck, you’d rather die than let one of ‘em suffer. Now you’re going full white knight for this chick, and Billy’s out here throwing a bad attitude in your face? That’s a recipe for disaster, and you know it.”
“Move along, Tommy.”
“Not gonna move along.” He pounds his palms to my chest, shifting to stop me from walking away. “But I’m not gonna give you shit for being good to her, either. She’s a patient, and you’re one of the best guys I know. Until we hear differently, she deserves comfort. Not interrogation.” He tilts his head toward the cage. “You wanna fight him?”
“Billy? Absolutely.”
He smirks. “I could get him up there, I guess. Gloves on, mouth guard in. Beating the shit out of him is legal when it’s sport, and his kid would see him crying, which would make us all feel a little better.”
“But he ain’t volunteering.” Chris presses his bloodied face to the cage wall, his eyes alight with desire for another human punching bag. “If he isn’t volunteering, then it’s not sport. It’s just a beatdown, and that makes it illegal again. But I’ve got a little energy to work off.” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder to Cliff, writhing on the floor. “He tapped, and when a dude taps, the law says I’ve gotta stop. But if you wanna work through some stuff, I’m good to roll.”
“Not even if you paid me a million dollars.” I exhale a breath of frustration and turn to make sure Eliza is where she’s meant to be. Behaving herself.Nottalking to that motherfucker, Billy. “Think I’ll work on the bags by myself tonight. Put in an hour and open my lungs. Then I’ve gotta shower and head back to the hospital.”
“You work too much.” Tommy bumps my shoulder, knocking me a full step to the left. “You’re gonna end up a patient soon if you’re not careful.”
“I’m fine with how things are.” I catch sight of Alana Watkins, the champ’s wife and radiant baby-momma, wandering this way. She’s rugged up in a thick jacket and a rainbow beanie covering most of her wavy blonde hair. More notably, she’s carrying their sweet baby girl, Hazel, against her chest. The babyIgot to deliver. My partial reparations for sins I’ll never truly be absolved of.
“You gotta stop looking at my wife like you’re in love with her, Doc.” Tommy claps the back of my head and steps in front of me, opening his arms wide, and accepting both girls with a rumble of contentment and a hug so tight, Alana releases a long, happy sigh. “I’ve been looking at these dudes for way too long, Lana. Didn’t even realize my eyes hurt till I saw you, and itfeltgood.” He presses a noisy, bordering-on-indecent kiss to her lips. And when he’s done, he scoops his baby straight out of her arms. “Come to Daddy, pretty girl. Did you do a big poo today? You’ve had a tummy ache for days.”
With a roll of her eyes, Alana steps around him and leans in to hug me. It’s not the same kind she gives her husband, but it’s a hug that speaks of friendship. Of decades of love. It speaks of forgiveness, like she knows sheneeds to remind me, day in, day out, that I’m not as horrible as my conscience would have me believe.
When my conscience is quiet, Billy’s always nearby to point shit out.
“Hazel’s been having tummy troubles,” Alana murmurs, pulling away with a grin. “Tommy’s taken it upon himself to be chief and commander of the poop schedule.”
“Did she drop a load today?”
“She sure did. Destroyed her outfit.Andthe couch cushion,” she snickers. “But I can’t even be mad, because I’m just glad she got it out.” She searches my eyes that way she does, so fucking wise, so knowing. “Heard you got a mess on your hands down at the hospital. You look tired.”
“What version of the story did you hear?”
She snorts. “That the chick was looking for a quick payday and retribution, though Barbara can’t possibly imagine why this woman would do such a thing since she—Barbara—is such a wonderful soul. She hopes to sneak into the hospital sometime tomorrow and speak to your patient. Plead her case and convince her not to sue.”
“I’m fuckin’ exhausted.” I crush the heels of my palms to my eyes and groan. “She’s making it messy, even when it doesn’t have to be.”
Alana slides her fingers around my wrists, gently tugging my arms down, then she gifts me with a kind smile and dancing eyes. “It’s gonna be okay. You should come to the house this weekend and have dinner with us. Fox was sick last week, and Chris had awholeseven days of locking her up and sharing her with no one.”
“I contained the germs!” Chris growls. “How is that a bad thing?”
“He got used to the quiet,” she teases. “Now he’s pissy because we’re forcing him to socialize again. Dinner this weekend.” She raises a pointed brow. “We insist.”
“I mean…” I peek across at a dopey, happy Hazel and her dopier, happier father. “If you insist. Can I bring Eliza?”
“Of course.” She pats my chest. “Even though she scares me.”
ROUND SIX
OLLIE
Eat. Sleep. Wake up. Repeat.
The old Mr. Forrester, my oncology patient, dies just three days after Jane arrives, surrounded by his family as he takes his last breaths and moves on to whatever comes next. Four generations of Forresters squash into a single room, touching from wall to wall while the youngest, his three-year-old great-granddaughter, bounces from family member to family member. Because while they mourn and whisper their goodbyes, she has no clue what the hell is happening.
She just knows there’ll be food later.
