Grumpy Doctor

“But I have a procedure—”

“I’ll tell Dr. Hood you won’t be coming.” She gave me a look and tugged at her wedding ring. “Think about our conversation. Think about how it might look, barging into your boss’s office like this, and getting involved in something that is far above your head.”

I wanted to snap back at her, but I had no power in this situation. I overextended myself and I knew it. I didn’t know what I thought would come from this, if I thought I’d somehow change her mind, but of course it only made her double down, and got myself in trouble in the process.

I turned and left without saying anything. I figured I’d already dug my hole—no reason to make it worse. I stalked down the hall, mentally berating myself, and feeling like a fool.

Piers was going to be pissed. He wouldn’t have wanted me to do that. If anything, I just made his position even more tenuous, all because I got emotional and angry, and couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

I went home, feeling like a moron, and hoped the damage would be minimal.

18

Piers

I left the hospital after a long day, my knees aching, my head a dull throb, and glanced over my shoulder as I merged into a group of pedestrians heading toward Broad Street. I spotted him right away: same baseball cap, same bland clothes, following me at a distance. He nodded a bit in acknowledgment, and I nodded back.

No reason to be impolite.

I got out my phone and made a call. She answered on the second ring. “Piers,” she said.

“Why did you get sent home?”

Lori sounded flustered. “I did a stupid thing. I’m really sorry. Gina didn’t tell you about it?”

“She told me you had to leave, but didn’t give details, and I didn’t bother pushing for them. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. But really, Piers, I did something dumb.”

“Are you at your apartment?”

“Yes, but—”

“Stay there. I’ll be over soon.”

I hung up before she could argue. I had a feeling I knew what happened, and I didn’t want to do this over the phone if I was right. Before I went to her place though, I needed to do something drastic.

I turned left and started running. Ahead, there was an alley that cut between two buildings. I dove down it, sprinting as hard as I could. I reached the end, turned again, then ducked into a small, rundown Chinese food restaurant. It was a place I’d been a hundred times before, tucked away in the intersection of two alleyways, the sort of spot that most people didn’t even know existed. It was a greasy place, yellow glowing sign with stock shots of rice and vegetables hanging above the counter, and the young girl with straight dark hair gave me a bored frown as I leaned against the front window, looking out at the street.

There he was. Theodore came tearing down the street after me, huffing and puffing, and didn’t even glance at the door. I watched him disappear before winking to the girl.

“Thanks,” I said.

She rolled her eyes as I left.

The walk to Lori’s place was easy after that. I kept looking over my shoulder, and doubled back once to make sure I wasn’t being followed, but it seemed like my trick worked. I doubt I could pull it off a second time—Theodore would be waiting for it.

Lori lived in a simple brick front row home on a quiet block near Rittenhouse. I rang her bell and she let me in. Her place was small, barely a living room, a bedroom, and a tiny kitchen. It was immaculately decorated though, with her degrees hung on the wall, some black and white photography, lots of old books. The place smelled like a thrift store and leather, which I actually sort of loved. She wore yoga pants and a big sweatshirt, and clearly hadn’t expected me to actually show up.

“Want a glass of wine?” she asked as I looked around.

“That’d be good.”

She went into the kitchen and came back a moment later. I took my glass and sipped it before meeting her eyes. She looked uncomfortable, and I wasn’t sure why—because she was afraid of me being in her personal space, or if she was worried about what she did to get sent home.

“Let’s talk,” I said.

She walked past me and sat down on the couch, curling her legs beneath her. I stayed standing. The light from the street shifted with each car, making the houseplants glow.

“It was stupid,” she said. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

“What happened?”

She told me the story, starting with one of her fellow residents, she wouldn’t say which one, and ending with her visit to Gina. “I was impulsive and dumb, and now things are going to be harder for you.” She groaned and leaned her head back against the couch.