Page 7 of Healing Hearts
“Everything, really,” I say, dipping a fry into ketchup. “Dragons, fairies, space adventures, you name it. Today, I had to read about a talking dog who solves mysteries. The kids loved it, of course. One boy even asked me if my cat at home could talk.”
Trevor chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Did you tell him yes?”
“No, but I said if my cat could talk, he’d probably tell me toget out of his chair and stop invading his space,” I reply with a grin.
“Smart cat,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. “Sounds like he knows what he wants.”
“Yeah, well, he’s a bit spoiled,” I admit. “But he’s great company when I’m home writing—uh, reading, I mean.”
“Writing, huh?” Trevor leans back slightly, giving me a curious look. “Do you write, too?”
My heart skips a beat, and I force a casual smile, quickly backtracking. “Oh, just... you know, library reports, newsletters, that sort of thing.”
He nods, accepting my vague answer, and thankfully doesn’t push it. “So, if you’re not shushing people all day, what’s your favorite part of the job?”
“Hmmm...” I take a moment to think, leaning back in my seat. “I’d say it’s when a kid finds a book they really love. You can see it in their eyes, you know? Like today, this shy little girl came in looking for a book about a dragon princess. She barely said a word, but when she found it, her whole face just lit up. Those moments make everything worth it.”
Trevor’s expression softens, and he gives me a warm smile. “That’s...really nice. Sounds like you’re making a difference.”
“I hope so,” I say, feeling a flutter of warmth at his words. “What about you? What do you do?”
I watch him take a swig of his beer, “I’m a trauma surgeon at the hospital.”
Completely impressed and surprised by his answer, “Wow. Being a trauma surgeon sounds intense.”
He chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, it definitely is. It’s a lot of pressure—long hours, tough cases—but it’s rewarding in its own way. When I work at the hospital, some days it feels like the entire town passes through those doors.”
“I can’t even imagine,” I say, genuinely impressed. “What’s it like... you know, dealing with emergencies every day?”
He leans forward a little, his eyes thoughtful. “It’s hard to describe. There’s a rush of adrenaline when someone comes in, and you know they’re counting on you to keep them alive. It’s chaotic, sure, but there’s this... clarity that comes with it. You focus on the patient, and everything else fades away.”
“Wow,” I say softly, taken aback by his sincerity. “It sounds... stressful. You must see some pretty awful things.”
“Yeah, sometimes,” he admits, a shadow crossing his face for a brief moment. “But I try to focus on the successes. On the moments when you know you’ve made a difference, when you look at someone’s family and tell them their family member is going to be okay. Those are the moments that make it all worthwhile.”
I nod, feeling a strange sense of connection to him. In a way, we both deal with chaos—mine just happens to involve excited little kids and overdue books instead of the life-or-death situations Trevor deals with. “You must be exhausted all the time.”
“I’m used to it,” he says with a smile. “But enough about me. Tell me more about the library. Do you ever get any weird requests?”
I laugh, grateful for the shift back to lighter topics. “Oh, all the time. Last month, a kid asked me if we had a ‘how to train your dragon manual. He thought he’d actually get a pet dragon if he found the right book.”
Trevor chuckles, his eyes lighting up. “Did you manage to find one?”
“I had to improvise,” I say, grinning. “I found a book about lizards and told him it was the next best thing.”
“Good save,” he says, raising his glass. “To creative librarians who save the day.”
“To trauma surgeons who do the same,” I reply, clinking my glass with his.
“So,” he says, leaning forward a little with a curious smile. “What’s a librarian like you doing eating a lonely burger at the bar on a Friday night?”
I laugh, though my heart does a little flip at the warmth in his gaze. “Oh, you know. Escaping the chaos of storytime and kids’ questions about dragons and dinosaurs.”
“Ah,” he says, nodding knowingly. “A well-earned break, then.”
“Definitely,” I say, feeling a lightness in my chest that I haven’t felt in a while. “What about you? What’s a guy like you doing claiming random burgers?”
He chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. “I’d say it’s fate. Besides, it got me talking to a beautiful woman, so I’d call it a win.”
