“Come with me,” I tell Eloise.
Spotting the nurse’s station in the hallway, I step up to the circular desk and am greeted by a tired-looking woman in her mid-to-late fifties.I’ll bet she’s seen some shit in her time here.
“How can I help you?” she asks, politely enough that I know I can ask my question, but in a tone that tells me she’ll tolerate zero bullshit and doesn’t have time for small talk.
I like her.
“The patient they just wheeled to the OR from room nineteen, can you tell me what room he’ll be given after surgery?”
She stops filling medication bottles and starts clicking things on the computer.
“It looks like we don’t have any beds available in recovery, so he may be monitored in the hallway until a room opens up.”
“Can he come back down here?” I ask, knowing there’s no way in hell after the ordeal he’s been through, I’m going to let him wake up from surgery in a fucking hallway.
“That’s not really?—”
“Look,” I say, interrupting her. “I’ll pay whatever I have to. I’ll donate a million fucking dollars to this hospital. Hell, I’ll donateten million.I’ll buy you a new car or send you to the Maldives on a private jet. Justpleaseget him a room.”
I don’t want them to kick another patient out, of course, but the room he just left is currently sitting empty, and I see no reason he can’t have that one back.
The nurse looks at my sister.
“Is he going to be a problem?”
Eloise smiles. “Probably. Unless Mr. Hastings gets a room.” Eloise holds her hand out. “Christian and Eloise Devereaux,” she says, smiling. “Siblings, not spouses. Our family owns the Ricochet Ridge Ski Resort down the road. And although he’s being a little pushy with the delivery, my brother can, in fact, follow through on every offer he justmade. Making sure Zeke is comfortable is our top priority right now.”
“Well, Mr. and Miss Devereaux, I don’t need a new car, and this hospital would collapse if I went jet-setting to the Maldives, but I’ll see what I can do for your friend.”
“Thank you,” I tell the nurse sincerely.
“Why don’t you leave me your number and go grab a bite to eat upstairs? I’ll give you a call when I have something worked out, okay?”
I nod, thank her again, and start the waiting game.
Although this town isn’t large, this hospital isa trauma center due to the number of ski resorts in the area, not to mention the dangerous backcountry that surrounds it. The cafeteria is bustling with the family members of those who must be occupying all the beds in the recovery unit.
Eloise and I manage to find two barstools along the back counter. At least there’s a window, so it doesn’t feel too claustrophobic. It’s sort of reminiscent of an airport lounge, which I appreciate right now.
I’m staring out at the snow beyond the glass, but I can feel my sister’s eyes boring into me. I never answered her question, even though it kept me awake most of last night.
Do I feel something beyond friendship for Zeke?
What would it even be?
The thought that I might be bisexual doesn’tcompletelyfreak me out; it’s just unexpected. It feels a little out of nowhere and kind of late in life. It’s an identity crisis simply because, although I like to grow and evolve as a person, I was pretty confident in that part of myself. To consider that I may have overlooked it is mildly terrifying.
“You want to talk about it?” Eloise asks, always on the same wavelength as me.
“Eventually, but not right now,” I say, taking a sip of myburnt coffee. Reaching into the basket on the counter, I pull out two creamers and one sugar.
I know it’s dumb, but it makes me feel closer to Zeke, and maybe it’ll improve the flavor.
“You know I support you no matter what, right?” she says, placing her hand over mine.
Too choked up to speak, I offer a silent nod.
Clearing my throat, I tell her, “I just need him to be okay first. I’ll process whatever this is once I know he’s going to make it.”
