Unhinge - Calia Read Page 0,16
“We have three kids. I can’t just leave.”
Lined up on the small counter was an array of pamphlets ranging from how to quit smoking, to depression, pregnancy, domestic violence.
“Yes, you can,” I said vehemently.
The woman snorted and slid down off the exam table. She put the pamphlet in her purse but I knew she wouldn’t look through it. More than likely it would end up in the trash can by the exit.
She might come back.
She might not.
But if she did her story would be more airtight. Her guard would be up and her eyes would be deader than ever.
Unfortunately, she wouldn’t be the last woman I’d see in such bad shape. The encounters never got easier. I wanted to block them from leaving. I wanted to try to convince them that they could really leave if they tried.
But I couldn’t.
Finally, I left the room. The moment with the battered woman fell to the darker side of my job. I tried to think of the bright side: helping people. Comforting them.
It made me feel productive, like I was doing the one thing I was meant to do in this world.
I made my way down the hall, passing patients and nurses. At the kiosk, one of my close friends, Taylor, was checking in.
“I was hoping to see you,” she said over her shoulder.
“Yeah?” I asked as I walked behind the nurses’ station.
She nodded and rested her elbows on the counter. “I wanted to see if you were free for lunch on Saturday?”
“Do you mean to tell me that we have the same day off?”
“I do. Miracles do happen!”
I smiled. “That sounds good. What time?” I’d met Taylor in college. She was flaky, scatterbrained, and if you gave her something she’d always lose it. But she was also kind and caring, the sort of friend who would stick by you through everything.
“I don’t know yet. I’ll call you with the time.” She nudged me with her elbow and gestured down the hall.
Wes was walking toward us. He gave me a wink as if he knew exactly the thoughts running through my mind.
She sighed. “He’s too good to be true.”
I had to agree. Six months into marriage and everything couldn’t have been more perfect.
“He doesn’t happen to have a brother, does he?”
“If he did I would’ve already set you two up.”
“Good girl.”
Our conversation died as Wes stopped next to me. I went to hug him and he dangled the take-out bag in front of me. “Hungry?”
“Starved.”
Surprisingly, Wes had the day off. He’d always been passionate about his job, but trying to make partner just added a whole other layer to his obsession. He was working his ass off on each case sent his way. A lot of times we saw each other in passing, with him going to work, me getting home from work. And as much as it sucked, it made those moments we were together that much greater.
He rubbed my shoulder gently. “When’s your break?”
“Now.”
Constantly moving from room to room left no time to be bored—or hungry. It was only when my stomach started to rumble that I realized I’d been on my feet for hours.
“Want to eat with me?”
“Why do you think I came here?” he teased.
Taylor pushed away from the counter. “All right,” she sighed. “I can see that I’m not wanted here. I’ll see you later, Wes.”
As we walked toward the small break room at the end of the hall, I grabbed the take-out bag from him.
“Healthy lifestyle. I like,” I said sarcastically.
Wes grinned. “Only the best for you.”
The chaos circling around the nurses’ station was nowhere near this area. In here there was always a hushed silence as doctors and nurses tried to get a few minutes of quiet.
Only one other nurse was in the break room right now. She sat clear at the other end of the table, her eyes glued to the magazine in front of her. A television was mounted on the wall, quietly playing a soap opera. There was a large corkboard on one wall, with a calendar tacked to it. Directly in front of it stood a magazine rack filled with outdated magazines. To the left was a mini kitchen where most of us usually warmed up our meals. Vending machines lined the wall behind me.
There was nothing much to this space, but most of the time, when we walked through the doors, we were so exhausted and hungry, we didn’t care. We just wanted a moment to sit down.
Wes opened up the