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My thirtieth birthday was ushered in with wailing and tears. Not the despondent tears of loneliness and regret, though I had shed those before. They weren’t ecstatic tears of joy either. These were the tears of newborn Miguel Delgado as I placed him in the loving arms of his mother, Haley, after delivery. She and her husband, Javier, were over the moon with their new arrival, but he seemed less enthused. They oohed and ahhed over the dark fuzzy down on his head and inhaled his sweet baby scent. Watching first-time parents meet and fall in love with their babies never got old.
Dr. Truong and I wrapped up, trying to give the family quiet time with their new arrival. The older woman smiled indulgently as she took in the wilting curls in my ponytail and wrinkled blue scrubs. “Tamra, why don’t you take a quick break? I think Gina has something for you in the lunchroom.”
Gina would be hurt if I escaped before her “surprise.” It was close to midnight and the official start of my thirtieth birthday. Yay, me. All I wanted was to go home and crash after a shift spent at the hospital, bringing new babies into the world. It was my job and I loved it, but I’d hoped to be doing something different on my thirtieth birthday. I should be married by now, or at least in a serious relationship. Instead, I was single. Always alone. Not a whiff of a boyfriend for years.
I blamed my job. It was hard to meet eligible men as a labor and delivery nurse. Every male I met at work was either coupled up and having a baby or minutes old. My pickings were slim.
Gina, my fellow registered nurse on shift, waited in the break room.
“Ta-da!” She stepped to the side, using jazz hands to highlight a white cupcake sitting on the table with a single lonely candle.
Single. Like me. I forced a smile for Gina’s sake. It wasn’t her fault I had nothing to celebrate.
Gina and I had worked together for years, and I appreciated her cool head and calm demeanor in the delivery room. She was forty-something with short and spiky red hair. Curvy in all the right places. She managed to make the shapeless scrubs we all wore look feminine, which was truly a talent.
“Thanks, Gina. I can’t believe you remembered.”
Gina smiled and shoved the cupcake in my direction. “A woman only turns thirty once. It’s sad enough you’re spending it here at work; there had to be cake.”
Sad. Accurate. I blew out the candle before smiling into her watchful eyes. “Thanks, Gina.”
“So, do you have anything wild and wonderful planned to celebrate this year?” I could hear the hope in her voice, and I hated to disappoint her.
“Um, no. I’ve got a new book by my favorite author queued on my Kindle at home, but that’s about it for this weekend.”
“Tamra Renee Shaw. Please tell me there’s more than that.” She sounded exasperated, but I couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t her birthday that was going to be boring.
“Nope, sorry.”
She looked me in the eye, her blue eyes kind, but slightly narrowed, emphasizing the gentle lines of her face. Gina didn’t believe in bullshit.
“Tell me truly, are you happy, Tamra? Fulfilled? Is your life what you envisioned when you got your nursing degree?”
Not at all. “Not exactly,” I acknowledged reluctantly.
“Is this the year that changes?”
“I’ve been thinking about a few things.” I was hedging, and she knew it. I quickly took a bite of my cupcake. Coconut. My favorite.
“Now we’re getting somewhere. Like what?” she asked.
I chewed slowly, stalling to give myself time to think. “Well, I was thinking that this year I would try to break out of my comfort zone.” My expression darkened as I thought about my sister’s most recent email. “Prove that I can follow through. Push myself. For example, the book that I’m reading this weekend? I stalk, ahem, follow the author on Twitter, but I never comment. Maybe I could make it a goal to comment more, try to make friends online.”
I could tell Gina wasn’t as enthused as I was over my first suggestion, but she still gave me an encouraging look. “I don’t think follow-through is your problem, but forcing yourself into uncomfortable situations does keep life interesting. That sounds like a good start. What else did you have in mind? Is there something else you’ve always wanted to do?”
I bit my lip, unsure that I wanted to admit my next secret desire. “Dancing.”
Gina grinned. “That sounds like fun. What kind of dancing? Are you thinking a class or just a night out? I know a country western bar in town.”
I shuddered. I couldn’t imagine myself at a bar. I enjoyed the music, but the steps always seemed so complicated. And, double shudder, that type of dancing usually required a partner. Gina would have Vicki, and I couldn’t imagine a place I’d feel more of an outsider.
“Um, no. Not western. I was thinking, um pole dancing.”
“Like stripping? Tamra, I guess when you push yourself, you push it real good.”
Me, who struggled to feel comfortable undressing in changing rooms at the mall, disrobing in front of others? I laughed. “Not stripping. I don’t think I’m quite that adventurous. Yet. But I was looking into a local dance studio that offers pole dancing fitness classes. I saw a few videos on their Facebook page, and it looks amazing. Very beautiful and athletic.”
Gina nodded encouragingly. “Well, now seems like a good time to try it. I say go for it. So, you’ve got starting an online friendship and dance classes. That’s two goals. How about making it three new things for big three-oh? Is there something else you’ve been thinking about?”
“Not really. Those two feel like enough for now. Maybe I’ll come up with something later.”
Gina seemed reluctant to let it go. We’d had enough pre-weekend chats where she bemoaned my lack of social life that I should have known she’d keep pushing. She looked at me closely before snapping her fingers. “I’ve got it. Get laid.” She folded her hands in front of herself and nodded. “That’s it—that’s my advice. Get laid. Now I’m your life coach.”
I shook my head and swallowed the last bite of my cupcake. Gina blew out a sigh. She knew my hermit-like habits.
“Fine, fine. Where’s your sense of adventure? I’ll go easy on you. You should take a romantic risk.”
“Like what?” I asked cautiously. That sounded much safer.
She shrugged and gave me a wicked grin. “Sometime this year, I challenge you to take a romantic risk and do something wild. Maybe look to one of your novels for inspiration. Find someone who makes you want to run naked and talk dirty. You’ll recognize what it is when you see it.” She nodded in satisfaction at her own suggestion. “You know; kiss a few frogs or something.”
With my romantic history, I could probably count sitting at the bar by myself as a romantic risk. Arriving at a bar after work meant it would be near closing time, which would make me an immediate target for the drunk and desperate. At least until they realized I was stone-cold sober and not ready to go home with one of them. Though the grizzled older man who’d once asked if I had an inhaler because I took his breath away at least made me smile.
But nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? What would it hurt to accept Gina’s challenge? I’d prove to myself that I wasn’t a quitter. Hobbies. Friends. A life outside of work. They could be mine. And maybe I’d surrender my long-standing single status in the process.
“Sure, Gina. I’ll take a romantic risk. I’ll reach out to my favorite author, and I’ll take a dance class.” I ticked off a finger for every item on my list, like a pledge.
Saddest. Pledge. Ever.
She smiled in delight. “I can’t wait. I can feel it, Tamra. This is going to be your year to bloom. Trust your life coach.”
I held back my groan. There was no backing out now. Life coach. At the time I was naïve enough to not dispute her claim. I knew Gina was teasing ... mostly. Was it too late to trade her life coaching advice for a bottle of wine? It was a toss-up which would help me make better decisions.
