Page 9 of Paging Dr. Breakup
After eating the last of his cookie, Clyde crossed his arms across his chest and stood next to Amberlyn in nursing solidarity.
Mom gave Pop the we’re-going-to-talk-about-this-later look.
“Um.” Sweat beaded Pop’s forehead.
Calvin swallowed a bite, the savory meatball and homemade sourdough bread taking him back to meals from years ago. He laughed but did not put down the sandwich. “Well, Pop, you stepped in it now. Rule one. Never ever insult the nurses. That’s biting the hand that feeds you. I believe the last time you saw thesegoofing offfolks, you were nearly dead.”
Clyde waggled a finger before snagging another cookie. “As I recall, the very last time Bruce was here, he was fine even though he was faking a heart attack as he helped us play matchmaker with Dr. Lee and Maverick Steen. The time before that”—he paused for effect—“Bruce wasn’t nearly dead. He was very much dead. Wegoof-offsmade him undead. Come to think of it, we should get chocolate chip cookies for the rest of our careers.”
Mom nodded, ignoring the dissatisfied man next to her. “I tried to explain this to him, but this fellow… if you told him the sky was blue, he’d argue that it was red.”
“Sometimes itisred,” Pop grumbled.
Cal chuckled then sobered. Pophaddied here in the ED. Even after the team obtained return of spontaneous circulation after the massive heart attack, Pop’s clinical situation had been dicey for the next forty-eight hours. A heart cath and stents had made a huge difference, but the cardiologists hadn’t been able to guarantee that everything would turn out all right. Sure enough, Pop’s stay in the ICU in Fairbanks hadn’t been uncomplicated, either. He might never regain all of his heart function due to the cardiac damage.
Glaring at Pop, Mom turned back to the staff and said sweetly, “Next time, if you could leave that throat tube in place so he can’t talk back, I’ll double your future cookie orders.”
“Deal,” Amberlyn said.
Right as Clyde replied, “Done!”
“You people are ganging up on us old folks.” Pop gestured toward himself.
“They’re giving you a taste of the grief you give them,” Mom said.
“I heard that you like the grief I give you, dear.” Pop waggled his bushy eyebrows.
Mom’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh, Bruce.”
Seriously, this could not be Cal’s life right now. He finished off the sandwich and wadded up the wax paper, tossing it into the trashcan. “You two”—he wiped his face with a napkin and threw that in the bin as well—“need to take these shenanigans outside. The hospital is no place for canoodling.”
Everyone laughed, including Mom and Pop. It felt good. It felt right. Comfortable.
Amberlyn slung an arm around Mom’s shoulders. “Say, don’t you think Dr. Garrett would benefit from some canoodling? Maybe with someone working in the hospital?”
Alarm klaxons went off in Cal’s brain.Redirect the conversation. Now!
Mom laughed and gently bumped Amberlyn’s hip with hers. “We’ve been telling him this for years. We even have suggestions, but he won’t listen to us.”
Clyde, who was married with two children, nodded sagely like a bald oracle on the relationship mountaintop. “Maybe he needs a good push in the right direction? We can help. We’re good at that.”
Cal held up his hands like he was holding back a leaking dam. His effort was about as effective. “Okay, folks. No pushes. No direction. Time to finish the cookies and get back to work.” He gritted his teeth at the motionless staff who werenotdone with the cookies and who were obviouslynotgoing back to work. “Hello?”
By now Mom and Pop had huddled with Clyde and Amberlyn about three feet away from Cal.
“Anyone?” It was like talking to a wall. “As the ED doc, aren’t you all supposed to listen to me?”
The unit coordinator touched her silver curls and smiled, creasing the lines in her face. “I’m listening.” She peeked at the tin. “And I do believe I might have another cookie.” She, too, however, did not make a move to return to her desk.
Bruce looked back over his shoulder at Cal. “I mean, if it weren’t for me, those other two would never have gotten together. I’m on a roll.”
Mom shook her head. “No, dear. Flirting with death isn’t the same as helping people flirt.”
Amberlyn peered at Clyde and then at Cal’s parents. “What we need to do is get him a date for the Breakup Festival.”
Cal gave up. Medical hierarchy had deteriorated into straight-up anarchy. He kept his head down, pretended to review lab results, and polished off another delicious cookie. The still-warm chocolate melted in his mouth. Okay, fine. There might be a few advantages to working in the same town as his parents.
People plotting his future relationships? That was where he had to draw the line.
