Gabriela Acevedo is enchanting. Outside the hospital, dressed in something other than scrubs, she’s so refreshing, she makes me feel like I can breathe again. We sit at a bistro table on the outdoor patio of a beachside grill, the surface littered with half-eaten appetizers. Our dinner plates lie before us, untouched since we can’t stop talking.
She works that black dress like she knows how to use it, and her laugh is infectious.
“I’m serious,” she says with a chuckle as I call bullshit on her story of delivering a vaginal breech baby in triage the other day. “The nurse screamed for help, and I came running, and the butt was crowning—wait, butts can’t crown. Is there a name for a ring placed around the ass?”
“Uh. Toilet seat?”
She snorts. “Okay. The baby was toilet seating, and I just... did it. My attending showed up about three minutes later.”
I high-five her. “Badass.”
The patrons at the table behind her leave, and she scoots her chair closer to me. A half hour past sunset, and the sky still glows orange. Beside us, the wooden railing gives way to a short drop to the beach. The gulf beyond is calm, the waves lapping at the shore in a peaceful rhythm.
Love this. The ambiance. The company. Ineededthis.
Her eyes brighten. “Badass, huh? You really think so?”
“Hell yeah, girl. But I’ll admit I’m still skeptical, since I didn’t hear about it. The nurses tell me everything.”
She picks up a fry from her plate. “That’s because they love you.”
I lean toward her. “You want to know a secret?”
Chewing her fry, she nods.
“I love them, too.”
She chuckles. “I know. It shows.”
“It does?”
Gabriela throws a fry at me. “You’re nice to everyone.”
I glance down at my plate. “There’s a reason for that, you know.”
“Oh, yeah?” She rests her elbows on the table. “Tell me.”
I search her face. “You really want to know?”
Her nod is thoughtful. Slow. Like she knows I’m about to share a part of myself.
I cast my gaze toward the waves. “A few years ago, I was at a party. There was this pretty girl I was interested in, and I’d recently heard a rumor about her that she was—um, like, easy, or whatever.”
“Oh, no.”
I smile ruefully. “Yeah. Here’s where Asher learns not to listen to rumors. I was saying some... not nice things about her, and she overheard me.”
Dark eyes go wide. “No. What did she say?”
“She totally called me out. Pretty glorious on her part. Then it turned out that none of the rumors were true, and I felt bad for—I don’t know—a year? The girl was super sweet. It’s one of those scenes my brain still throws at me right when I’m about to fall asleep, so I can wallow in the embarrassment all over again.”
“I have a few of those myself,” she says with a laugh.
“So, now, I don’t say shit like that. Never know who’s listening. Lesson learned.”
Her pink lips curve in a smile. “That’s sweet.”
“No.” I toss a grin back at her. “It’s just proof that I’m a recovering asshole.”
