Page 6 of Dr. Intern

Did I want to drink full-calorie soda? Double nope.

Fortunately, Mom and I liven up the place with our fun every week. The nurses all love us because we bring them our homemade oatmeal raisin cookies. Baking them has become a hobby of ours to pass the time—well, a hobby of mine. Mom’s a little too weak to spend hours standing in the kitchen, so she watches and directs from the couch, which is a good thing because I barely know how to use an oven.

Since my brother Parker is a physician, he pulled some strings to get Mom into the top cancer doctor at Midtown Memorial. Mom’s treatment is palliative, which means it’s focused on prolonging her life rather than curing her cancer. While she could have just continued her chemo in Virginia, Mom wanted to be closer to my siblings, especially now that my sister Caroline is in Atlanta for medical school.

I quit my advertising job to care for her once Parker started his full-time doctor job this summer, and Caroline started classes. Truthfully, I hated advertising anyway, so this move has been a great thing for both of us. We get to spend uninterrupted time together, which basically consists of two things—doctor’s appointments and reality TV.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hey Cass!” I call out, jumping up from my seat beside Mom’s infusion bed.

Cassidy looks completely worn out, probably coming straight from a grueling twelve-hour shift in the ER. Her blonde hair is frazzled, piled on top of her head, and there’s a dark stain of some sort on her chest, like she was dragged through the mud or something.

Now that I’m in a new city, Cass has taken over the role of my best friend, which is a good thing because she’s also my brother’s fiancée. They met in the hospital last year since she’s an emergency room nurse, and he’s a cranky surgeon.

“How’s it going?” Cassidy greets me, pulling me into a hug while peering over at my mom.

I won’t lie, Mom isn’t doing great. I’ve been doing everything in my power to ignore the inevitable, but it’s getting harder each day. Her breathing has worsened lately, and now she’s reliant on oxygen while she sleeps.She says she’s fine, always masking her emotions with a practiced smile, but I know better.

“Oh, you know, same old, same old,” my mom responds softly.

As Cass pulls away from our hug, her eyes catch mine, and I can sense the worry in them.

“Though you know,” she adds with a sly smile, “Claire went out with some boy last night and didn’t come home until the early hours of the morning.”

Cassidy’s hazel eyes widen, a mix of shock and playful irritation radiating in them. “Claire! Don’t say I never tell you anything when you’re also holding out on me.”

I sigh, glaring at my mother who’s watching us with amusement. “You won’t tell me who your maid of honor is going to be!”

“That’s because I haven’t chosen yet. Now spill.”

“Nope,” I say, gesturing with my hand as if I’m locking my mouth shut. “My lips are sealed. You don’t share your sexual escapades with me, so I will not be sharing mine with you.”

“I’m happy to share . . . you just probably don’t want to know,” she retorts, a sinister grin forming on her lips.

I bend over, forcing my finger halfway down my throat in a mock gag. “Excuse me while I vomit.”

When I look up, the two of them have their eyes glued on me, their expressions identical, like they’re not going to let this go until I give up some information.

I roll my eyes, plopping back in my chair as Cassidy situates herself at the end of the infusion bed.

“First of all,” I begin with a long sigh, “I only went because Mom forced me.”

“Oh hush,” Mom chides lightly.

“It’s true! You said it wasn’t nice to talk to guys on there if I didn’t intend to meet them in person. Though if you ask me, meeting internet strangers in person seems like a great way to get kidnapped. But what do I know?”

“And?” Cass interjects, fluttering her eyelashes at me in an overly dramatic manner.

“I didn’t get kidnapped if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Neither of them cracks a smile. They just sit and slowly blink at me, evidently waiting for the rest of the story.

Ugh—they’re lucky I love them.

“And nothing,” I snap, feeling my cheeks redden. “He was hot. We had fun. He took me home. End of story.”

Truthfully, he was the most gorgeous man I’ve seen in my life, and that’s just with his clothes on. Once our night progressed to his house, I found that he was practically a chiseled statue of human perfection.

---