I is for Ian

“But you became a doctor instead. They must have been so disappointed.”

She grinned. It felt like a minor miracle. I grinned back, and there was a moment where we just looked at each other, neither of us scowling or yelling, both grinning, and let it sit. Then she shook her head.

“Yeah, majorly,” she joked. “How dare I go into medicine? No, Dad was very supportive. So was Mom, though she worried I was spending my best childbearing years in extra college courses.”

“That sounds like a mom,” I said. “Mine worried that working on the road all the time meant I would never find someone to settle down with and give her grandbabies.”

“Well, you don’t have to settle down to do that,” Mina said and then blushed. “I mean, lots of people… do… that.”

“Uh-huh.” I smiled as I finished off one half of my sandwich. “Do you need a shovel?”

“Very funny,” she said, clearing her throat. “Look, I just wanted to say that I understand, probably more than a lot of people here, how that wasn’t your fault. It was that dumbass electrician, and now he’s going to get you fired. It’s bullshit.”

“Thank you. It is,” I said. “Do you mind writing that down, maybe on some letterhead? And signing it? And handing it directly to Dr. Sutton?”

She laughed.

“If you want me to, sure,” she said. “I could at least talk to him about it. But by the time I have a chance to do that, it might be after all of this, and he will have hired someone else.”

“Fair,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve already chalked this one up to a colossal failure that will haunt me for the rest of my life, so no harm, no foul.”

“Surely not the rest of your life,” she said. “Maybe just the rest of your career?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” I said, huffing a laugh. “Thirty or so years. Maybe forty. After that, smooth sailing, guilt-free.”

“So you’re an optimist, I see.”

“Usually, I find that a light at the end of a tunnel is actually the headlight of an oncoming train. But thank you.”

“Sure,” she said, seeming to push away from the bench a bit. “Well, I should get going.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot of people to evacuate,” I said. “I don’t envy your job. I just have shit to haul. Wires and pipes and buckets don’t tend to argue with me about it.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, raising her eyebrows for a moment. “It’s what I signed up for.”

“I thought you were a baby doctor?”

“Yes, but babies are notorious complainers,” she said. “Very cry-based communication system. It has its own challenges.”

“Didn’t think of it that way,” I said. “Good point.”

“Besides, I’m done for right now,” she said. “I’m going to grab a few hours’ sleep and come back tonight to help evacuate more. Hopefully by then it will be the folks who can pretty much handle themselves. I did the really hard ones already.”

“Well, sweet dreams,” I said.

“Goodbye, Ian.”

“Goodbye Mina,” I said.

She didn’t correct me that time.

Small miracles.

13

MINA

I wanted to just burrow myself into the layers of blankets in my bed and stay there in my cozy nest for days. Possibly the rest of winter. But I knew I couldn’t do that. The evacuation efforts were still underway, and every minute they carried on made it riskier. I didn’t want any of the patients to get caught at the hospital when the storm hit and end up stuck, so I needed to be there to help.

Once I was out of bed, I took advantage of the warmth to get a duffel bag out of my closet and start packing it with supplies I might need. I didn’t want to think I could end up staying at the hospital for an extended time, but I knew it was a distinct possibility.

I stuffed a few sets of extra clothes in and added a small blanket. Then I added the toiletry bag I kept packed and ready to go on the top shelf of my closet

That finished, I headed for the bathroom to take a shower. I got the water running so it quickly filled the room with steam, then stripped down and got in. It was so hot it stung my skin at first, but it felt so good pouring down my body I didn’t try to move away from it. The warm, soothing sensation of the water on the tense muscles of my neck and back was welcome, and I knew it might be a while before I felt this comfortable again.

The temperature had dropped dramatically outside and soon I was going to have to go out there. It was dark and miserable, and I was going to have to brave it in order to get back to the hospital to help the rest of the crew.