Page 4 of The Bright Side of Brooding
So I flashed him one, and said, “You’re welcome.”
Then I walked ever so carefully home, full to the brim with… thoughts.
* * *
The insane pace at work the next day boiled down to one maddening little fact about the Kugelfels community: it was tiny. If a normal military base was a trusty six-quart casserole dish, Kugelfels was a tablespoon. This might not immediately make sense for those not in health care, so let me explain. If an illness hit the community, it swept through at lightning speed. I’m talking a kid shows up at the elementary school with a stomach bug, and next thing we know, we’ve seen two hundred cases in a week. And soon enough, half the population is down for the count. Talk about community spread.
This time, the flu had settled on Kugelfels like a shroud. The snow hadn’t stopped last night, but even with a late call for soldiers, people tripped through the doors bundled in coats, shivering through fevers, skin sallow from illness.
“My goodness, I do love a good viral sweep,” Carla, a fellow RN, chirped as she plunked away at her computer.
“Is it the vomitus or the pre-pneumonia symptoms you like best?” Dr. Crane asked, pure sarcasm.
I chuckled under my breath, though I didn’t need to hide it.
“I just love knowing we’re helping. We’re solving problems. It’s not all aches and pains with no real diagnoses. Flu, bam. Strep, bam. Whatever.” She turned, winked with an exaggerated smile, and then continued her typing.
Dr. Crane shook his head and left. He was about the grumpiest person I’d ever met, but it was hard to say because I suspected Nicholas Masters could give him a run for the honor. I mentally swatted away an image of the man, glorious torso and fluffy white snowball cat, glaring at me. No time for such things, despite their persistent efforts to gain my attention.
“Green Team, you guys have one waiting, one checking in,” Cindy, the acting nurse supervisor hollered into the room as she passed by, alerting us.
The edge in her voice said enough—she wasn’t happy with how things were moving. We were behind, as it always happened thanks to late arrivals or things that popped up in appointments, so we needed to move it.
I hopped up, ready to take the person waiting since our medic was out with, you guessed it, the flu. One more element keeping this day moving. I grabbed my laptop and rushed out into the hallway, only to be caught by Major Hall, the active-duty manager of the clinic.
“Nurse Applegate. I’d love to talk to you when you have a minute. Can you swing by my office when you start lunch?”
Her pale face had the most pleasing freckle pattern dappled across her nose and onto her cheeks. They looked slightly bronze against her whipped-cream skin and gave her this sun-kissed look I envied a little. Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a neat bun at the base of her skull, and her uniform looked tidy as always. Pleasing appearances aside, the woman exuded professional skill and calm.
“Absolutely. I should break in an hour, if that works?”
She nodded with a closed-mouth smile, and I zipped off to room three.
An hour and ten minutes later, I knocked on Major Hall’s door.
“Come on in. Have a seat.” She gestured to a chair and clicked rapidly at her mouse before focusing fully on me.
“Everything okay?” I asked, betraying my total lack of calm.
“Oh, yes. I’m sorry if I worried you. I have some news, and I wanted to give you a heads-up.”
I perked up and leaned forward in the chair.
“The nurse supervisor position will be opening up in a few months.”
“Really.”Yes. I knew it. Yesss. Finally!I made a point not to squirm in my seat or let my feet bust out a little tap dance right there. Not professional, so I’d keep it together.
“You recently earned your Master’s in Nursing Science, right?”
“Yes. Last August.” After eighteen grueling months of online courses. And I would never go back to school. Ever. Never. Cue T. Swift because the declaration deserved its own song. My friend Emily had taken me out for drinks and dancing, and I’d made every one of my favorite meals for two weeks straight in celebration.
“It’s new, and you don’t have the kind of managerial experience we typically look for. But you’re here. We know you. We know you do good work, and you’re a part of the community. I know you’re involved with the Red Cross and some other efforts too, and you head up a lot of activities in that community.”
“Yes,” I said dumbly.
“I think you should apply.”
I swallowed, excitement zipping my posture even straighter. “I will.”
