I type out a quick reply, saying I can now since I’m on my way home from work, and he replies with a thumbs-up. He’s not the most chatty, and while texting isn’t exactly my ideal way of having a riveting conversation, the stupid thumbs-up annoys me.
I go around the block, backtracking a bit to get to Mike’s house. He lives downtown, and I’ll be there in just a few minutes. I suck in a breath and blink rapidly, trying to pull it together. I want to enjoy a few minutes of normalcy as I eat my feelings, and I don’t want pity.
Once I’m parked in front of his house, I pull my name badge over my head and hang it on my rearview mirror like I always do, but it’s not like I’m going to need that stupid thing anymore.
Not only did I get let go, I wasn’t given any notice. I do believe Marissa, my nursing director, genuinely felt bad, as she was just following orders from her own boss, but come fucking on. Can’t you give a girl the proper two weeks? Two days would have been better than this.
I dig through my oversized purse for my lip gloss, try to fluff up my hair, though it’s no use. Being in the operating room means pulling all my hair back and tucking it under a surgical cap, and my brunette hair is naturally wavy and totally unruly after a day in the OR, sweating from standing under the bright lights.
It was an eventful day today, with three back-to-back appendectomies and one emergency gallbladder removal. Time flew by, every surgery went without a hitch, and my patients were doing well when my shift ended. It’s the kind of day that reminds me what I love so much about being a nurse.
My hand gets stuck in a knot in my hair, and I give up and twist my long locks back into a messy bun. Taking another deep breath, I get out of the car and hurry up the snowy sidewalk. It’s late February, but we still have another few months of snow here in Michigan.
Mike never locks his door when I’m coming over, and I step inside, getting hit with the smell of pizza right away. I didn’t have time to eat lunch today and I’m starving.
“Hey, babe,” he says, watching me stomp the snow off my shoes before taking them off. I pull off my coat and hang it on the coatrack behind the front door. “You look hot today.”
“I’m in scrubs,” I laugh.
He wiggles his eyebrows. “I know.”
“Please tell me there’s at least half a pizza left.”
“Half a pizza?” he laughs.
“I didn’t get a lunch break.” I stop, clamping my jaw shut and pressing my lips together. I’m acting like everything is fine, which isn’t the healthiest thing to do, I know. But all I want is to drown my sorrows in pizza grease and pretend like things are going to be okay. The dread and anxiety will hit me hard tonight, when I’m trying to sleep. So why not deny like a normal person?
Mike motions for me to follow him into the living room. The pizza box is still closed and on the coffee table. “I haven’t even opened it yet.”
“Did you check to see if they got your order right?” I laugh as I go into the kitchen to wash my hands. “That time they sent us anchovies and pineapple pizza instead of extra cheese scarred me.”
“Oh, me too.” He grabs two beers from the fridge, forgetting—again—that I don’t like beer. I don’t drink much in general. I’m not a “look all classy holding a glass of red wine, slowly sipping it throughout the night” kind of girl. I don’t like the taste of alcohol, and when I do have some sort of mixed drink or sweet wine, I tend to overdo it.
Trading the beer for a water bottle, I join Mike in the living room. He turns on Gold Rush and we dig into the pizza. As soon as I finish my last piece, Mike rests his hand on my thigh, slowly inching it up.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” I start, letting my leg fall to the side, against his. “Sam was able to get off work and come home for the weekend for my parents’ anniversary dinner. Mason’s here too. You haven’t met them yet. Have you met Jacob?” I think back, unable to remember a time I’ve introduced Mike to any of my brothers.
“Yeah. He’s the vet. I’ve taken my mom there with Muffin before.”
“Well in that case, everyone with an animal in Silver Ridge has met him. Everyone is going to be there, and my cousins Lachlan and Lennon will be there too. Lachlan plays hockey for some famous team.” I make a face. “I don’t really follow hockey, though. And Lennon and I grew up together. I used to pretend she was my sister,” I laugh. “Growing up with three older brothers made me desperately want a sister. They’ll all be happy to finally meet you.”