Mount Mercy

Krista looked disappointed, but then nodded sagely. “He just wants to fuck, you want more.”

“No! We both want more. But he…..” I wasn’t sure how much I should say. I felt as if he’d taken me into his confidence, somehow, being so open with me. “...can’t.”

“Men like that never can. Don’t worry, we’ll find you someone else.”

But I don’t want someone else. “He’s not ‘like that,’” I blurted.

She frowned at me, confused.

“He’s not shallow! There’s more to him!”

“It is Corrigan we’re talking about, here? Big hands, big ego, big—”

“Yes! But—” Something was happening that didn’t happen very often: I was getting mad. Maybe because I knew what it felt like to be underestimated, even if it was in a very different way? My whole life, everyone—me included—had been telling me I was too introverted for this job, too shy for that man. “You don’t know him like I do!” I snapped.

Krista blinked at me. Then her eyes went big. “Shit!”

“What?” I asked, thrown.

“You like him!”

The shock made my anger fall away. I tried to brazen it out, but I’d gone bright red. “Everyone likes him!” I said, looking at the floor.

“Everyone thinks he’s hot, everyone wants to fuck him, you like him, like him.” She actually looked scared. “Amy, he’s not that kind of guy.”

That needled me. I felt the anger starting to build back up again. “Why does everyone think they know what kind of guy he is, when no one even properly talks to him? He’s hurting. He just needs—”

Krista cut me off with a horrified squeal, clapping a hand over her mouth.

“What?”

“You said the fatal words. He just needs. You want to fix him!”

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, unable to find words. “I know how it sounds….”

“It sounds like you’re trying to fix a bad boy.”

“He’s not a bad boy, he’s just—”

“Misunderstood? Oh, Amy, bless you, you’re so naive!”

“Stop patronizing me! He’s just acting! It’s an act!”

“Oh, and there’s a sweet guy underneath?”

“Yes! He cares about kids and babies and—”

“You want a baby with him now?!”

I lost it. “You know what? I’m sick of being the shy friend you’re always trying to help! I can run my own life!”

And I stormed out of the OR, leaving her open-mouthed.

I made it down to the end of the hallway before I faltered and stopped. What am I doing?! I was never like this, all emotional and out of control. Not until Corrigan came along.

I turned around and slowly walked back. When I walked back into the OR, Krista was silently cleaning up. I picked up a broom and helped. Neither of us said a word for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry,” I said at last.

“No, I’m sorry,” Krista said immediately. She lifted her head to look at me and her eyes were moist. “I can be too pushy. I just didn’t want to see you get your heart broken.”

“I’m just strung out from being down in the ER. And I’m all messed up about Corrigan. I do like him.”

She ran to me and pulled me into a deep, warm hug, and it was the best feeling in the world. “You’re not my shy friend,” she said into my shoulder. “You’re just my friend.”

I nodded, my own eyes getting hot. “Krista?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“You’re my best friend. Don’t go anywhere. ‘Kay?”

“‘Kay.”

When we eventually broke the hug, we finished cleaning up. And when we’d done that, Krista went off to find somewhere to get some sleep, while it was still quiet. I stood at the window looking out at the town. I barely recognized Mount Mercy with the buildings half-buried in snow.

The fight had woken me up to something. I’d assumed it was over, between Corrigan and me, because he’d said so. I’m a dormouse. I always do what I’m told.

Except... it wasn’t right. I knew he was in pain and I was the only one who could see it: even Krista couldn’t. Maybe I was the only one who’d ever seen it. Soon, he’d break the rules and he’d be bounced on to some other hospital, or he’d lose his license completely, and this chance would be gone forever. And this thing we had together... it was real. Just thinking about him made something inside me rise and float like a balloon. I needed him. And maybe... he needed me.

The idea of me doing what no other woman had been able to seemed laughable. Maybe Krista was right, maybe I was naive, and maybe I was trying to fix him. But.... I felt something inside me harden into stone.

I wasn’t quitting.

This dormouse was going to fight for her man.

* * *

When I ventured into the ER, it was still eerily quiet. Taylor was treating an old lady with a broken wrist, but no one else was around. They were probably grabbing a nap while they could: until the roads reopened and more staff could get in, we’d all have to work continuously and sleep when we could. Maybe I should do the same. The sun hadn’t quite set, but I was exhausted. If I got my head down, I could probably—