PMC, later in the day
Dani spent several hours with Ren making rounds, seeing each patient on A service, making chart notes, reviewing labs, and generally assuring that everything was buttoned up for the rest of the weekend. And to be sure that Ren had a good handle on what would need to be done come Monday morning. Dani didn’t envy her at all. It was tough running a service for the first time for anyone, and Ren had been in the lab for years. She didn’t have any experience running a team and probably wouldn’t even know the other residents on the service. Talk about a hard entry. If she was Quinn—ha—she’d pull the best fourth year they had and put her with Ren, someone who wouldn’t undermine her authority, but who would have her back if—make that when—things went FUBAR. Because they always did. Enoch Sloan, the fourth year on A service now, was an okay resident, but they already had a slot in an ophtho fellowship lined up and were pretty much just putting in time. But…she wasn’t Quinn and not her call.
She still couldn’t help thinking it was kinda crazy to stick surgical residents in the lab for even a year, let alone three years. Sure, there were things to be learned—she wasn’t an idiot. Her parents and siblings were scientists. She valued what they did, even if it wasn’t for her. But still, surgeons needed to be in the OR.
“You good?” she asked Ren when they left the ICU after seeing the last patient.
Ren looked surprised for a second as if that was a weird question, and then that smooth, totally chill expression came over her face. Dani’d noticed that despite everything that had been dumped on her and a service full of new—and pretty sick—patients, Ren never seemed to get ruffled or worried by anything. Pretty impressive. Yeah, she was some kind of star, all right. Lab rat or not, she had to be in the running for the Franklin. Dani mentally squared her shoulders. Not like she was afraid of a good fight or anything. Even though she infinitely preferred her battles to be virtual. She’d just have to find a way.
“Quite fine.” Ren colored a little—a first—and added hastily, “I mean, I’m great. Thanks for meeting me. I’m sure it disrupted your day.”
Dani smiled. “Nah. I was just moving boxes around.”
“Sorry?” Ren frowned as if she was trying to decode another language.
“Literally, I mean. I live—lived—with Syd Stevens, but I just moved over to the other half with Zoey Cohen this morning.”
“Oh,” Ren said, and a smile slipped through. A nice smile. Soft and a tiny bit playful. “I see. You live on one of those blocks with the Victorian twins by the park.”
“Yep.”
“That’s a very nice neighborhood.” Ren paused. “Very convenient. I mean, to the hospital and everything.”
That faint blush appeared for a heartbeat or two and then faded. Ren was damn cute when she did that. Dani did another mental double take, this one totally not about surgery or prizes or who could outshine who. Ren was seriously hot.
How had she not seen that instantly? Aaand now she was probably staring. She cleared her throat. “So, uh, I’ll see you around then, I guess.”
“Yes. I expect so,” Ren said quietly. Her eyes—dark gray with fine flecks of darker black now that Dani looked closely—searched Dani’s.
Looking for what? Dani swallowed, and heat flooded her midsection. Wow. Okay. This was new. “So…call me. I mean if you have questions! Or anything…”
Slick. Very slick.
“Thank you.”
“Since I’m here, I’m going to check on my intern. Make sure she’s on top of things.” Dani backed toward the stairwell. Ren was still watching her. “See you around.”
An hour turned into two as she helped the intern start a central line in an ICU patient and checked on the next day’s pre-ops to be sure all the labs and X-rays were done. Finally finished, she hurried down the stairs and burst out onto the main floor, nearly colliding with Emmett McCabe. “Whoa, sorry!”
“What’s up?” Emmett asked. “Is there a code?”
“No—I, uh, nothing. Just finishing rounds.”
Emmett, taller than her with dark hair and deep blue eyes, gave her a quizzical stare. “I thought you made rounds this morning?”
“It’s complicated,” Dani said, falling into step with Emmett.
Emmett laughed. “All right. Did you get moved okay?”
“Yeah. Zoey did all the heavy lifting.”
“I bet.” Emmett paused. “You know, you don’t have to move out. Syd and I like having you—”
“It’s all good,” Dani said hastily. She didn’t want to embarrass Emmett or herself by explaining that their intense couple-ness, if that was even a word, made her…want something. Something she’d rather not have to think about. “This works out for Zoey too.”
“That’s good then,” Emmett said and thankfully let it drop.
“Something going on?” Dani said as she realized they were heading for the ER.
“Consult,” Emmett said. “I just finished in the OR with McCleary doing an ischemic bowel resection on one of the ICU patients. The ER called me earlier about a consult but said it could wait.”
Dani frowned. The ER liked to move patients through as quickly as they could, especially on nights and weekends, and would often keep calling around until they found someone free. “I didn’t get a call, and I’ve been here since morning.”
“I think it’s a direct admission sent in from an attending covered by B service. Didn’t sound urgent.”
“Oh,” Dani said. They were already there, so she might as well tag along and see what else was happening in the ER. There was nothing worse than leaving the hospital in the middle of the afternoon and just getting home to find out a consult had been sitting there for an hour that no one had called in. Then she’d have to turn around and head back. She followed Emmett over to the central station where ER residents, nurses, techs, and PAs filtered through, checking labs, completing patient charts, and triaging patients who needed to be seen or admitted.
“Hey, Philippe,” Emmett called as she walked up and leaned on the waist-high counter that ran around the open square of the station, “you got a consult somewhere down here for me?”
The ER nurse slashed a signature across the bottom of a digital form and looked up. “Oh, we did, but it’s taken care of.”
“Sorry?” Emmett frowned. “Did one of my residents get down here then?”
“Hold on.” Philippe grabbed the ringing phone. “ER, Rodriguez.” He nodded, pulled another tablet toward him, and swiped it open. “Yes, the report just came in. I’ll see she gets it. Thanks.”
He hung up the phone, texted something on his phone, and glanced back at Emmett as if surprised she was still there. “I wasn’t paying too much attention to who came down. But I’m pretty sure the patient’s slated to be admitted already.”
“Great,” Emmett said slowly. “What room is the patient in?”
Philippe swiveled to look at the digital intake board on the wall opposite the station. “That would be Andrew Gilmore, in seven.”
“Thanks.” Emmett headed down the hall, one of three that emanated from the station like spokes on a wheel.
“I’ll wait and walk home with you,” Dani said. Maybe Emmett would have some thoughts on the best way to get noticed by the staff voting on the Franklin. Or, hell, maybe she expected to get it herself. Emmett was slated for a trauma fellowship, and that was Quinn’s thing. Might as well know now. Not that she planned on quitting just because she had a little—okay, a lot of—competition. They’d almost reached cubicle seven when the curtain slid back and Ren Dunbar stepped out, tablet under her arm.
“Hey.” Emmett skidded to a halt. “Dunbar.”
Ren smiled at Dani, a smile that disappeared as she nodded to Emmett. “That’s me. Ren. I just talked to your junior resident—Wesley Curtis?”
She pulled the curtain closed behind her and stepped a few feet down the hall. Emmett and Dani followed.
“What’s the story?” Emmett asked.
“This is Dr. Akeema’s patient—Andrew Gilmore, forty-seven—sent in for an evaluation of abdominal pain.”
“Did Akeema actually see the guy?” Emmett asked mildly, a hint of scorn in her voice. Quite a few of the non-hospital-based surgeons used the ER as their own private acute care center and expected the residents to take care of the patients they told to go there to be seen.
“A video consult,” Ren said neutrally. “His symptoms—acute onset of severe pain and fever—warranted a workup. He’s got an elevated white count and some tenderness in the left lower quadrant. The CT just shows a little edema consistent with diverticulitis. I think that’s likely. Anyway, Akeema wanted him admitted. It’s all set now.”
“Uh, thanks,” Emmett said with a questioning tone in her voice. “Are you covering the ER or something?”
“No,” Ren said, “I just happened to be down here, and one of the ER docs said they were waiting on a surgery consult. I figured I might as well take care of it while the rest of your team was busy.” She tilted her head and frowned at Emmett. “Problem?”
“No, as long as everything is covered, and our guys know what’s going on.”
“Oh, I explained to the patient, and also to Dr. Akeema when I called him, that I was admitting him to your service. As I mentioned, your resident was busy in the ICU, and I filled him in too.”
“Well, I guess thanks then for taking care of it.” Emmett shot Dani a look.
Ren smiled. “You’re welcome.” She edged around Dani and made her way back toward the central station.
Dani turned and watched her go, then muttered, “I think that might be a first.”
Like, super unusual for a busy surgical resident to be concerned about patients who were the responsibility of another surgical service. But on the other hand, they were all there for the same reason, to take care of patients. Hard to complain about someone doing all the right things, even if it was a little odd. Maybe Ren just wanted to get back into the swing of things quickly. Couldn’t blame her. And come to think of it, Dani’d been in the ER plenty of times when someone had grabbed her and asked her to see a consult even though she wasn’t technically responsible for seeing anyone. She’d done it because it needed doing and, ultimately, because it was her job. That was probably all there was to it.
“Well,” Emmett said, “at least she wasn’t trying to steal the case.”
“No,” Dani said thoughtfully, “I don’t think that’s her style.”
“You know her?”
“Not really. We just met. She’s taking A service.”
“As service chief?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh.” Emmett shook her head. “Hell of a crazy year we’ve got.”
Dani shrugged. She was part of the reason it was crazy. She and Ren had that in common. They both were outsiders, in a way. And Emmett was the chief surgical resident responsible for all of them. “You need me to do anything?”
“Nah—go home. I’m just gonna introduce myself to this guy and check the ICU. I’ll be a while.”
“Okay. I’m outta here then.”
As she gathered her gear and headed home for the second time that day, Dani thought about Ren Dunbar. If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve thought at first sight that Ren was a first year at best. Most fifth year surgery residents, like Dani, were around thirty, but Ren didn’t look much older than early twenties. She had to be at least a little older than that, though, even if she had been part of some accelerated program. Her build probably added to the impression she was younger too. Like Dani, she wasn’t much above average height, but thinner—not fragile or weak-looking, but the lean suppleness of the dancer as opposed to the more muscular build Dani had acquired thanks to years of martial arts training. They weren’t similar in any other ways, though. At least none that showed. Ren was very focused, very intense, and as far as Dani could tell, without much sense of humor. All business. Nothing wrong with that either. She’d probably be pretty reserved and intense herself if she’d gotten tossed from the lab into the middle of a busy service overnight. Not that she’d let a case of nerves show. She smiled to herself—Syd called her a swashbuckler. She’d always secretly liked that.
Ren was way more quiet than Dani but, no question, also supersmart. She warmed up almost instantly whenever she talked to a patient—almost a different person. Softness came into her voice, and even her expression changed. Dani could tell when someone cared as much about the people as the science. Ren did. Her kind of doctor.
Too bad they’d be on different services the rest of the year. She kind of liked her. Ren was different, like her, and well, there was the fact she was hot. Dani grinned as she turned the corner toward home. There was that.
Humming to herself, Dani bounded up the steps on the wrong side of the porch. She’d moved that morning, remember! Now she lived on the other side. She vaulted over the railing that divided the mirror-image front porches, dug out her keys, and unlocked the front door.
“It’s me,” she called.
The house was silent. Zoey was either asleep, in which case nothing short of an earthquake would wake her, at the hospital, or with Declan. Because what else was there for a resident besides sleep, work, or—with luck—sex. Which for some reason made her think of Ren, and thinking about hot girls she didn’t actually have a shot at left her restless. Better to think about a slow afternoon, a cold beer, and a good game.
That picture was almost perfect. Almost. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t quite shake the sense of time running out. When this year was over, she’d be one step closer to her career goal, and one year further away from the chance that her parents would ever understand what she was doing. That she would ever be part of their lives, or them part of hers. She probably should be used to it by now—the odd silences on the end of the phone when she tried to tell them about her newest rotation or a case she’d scrubbed on. Those things didn’t matter to them. For her parents, for her whole family, awards and recognition were symbols of true success. She hadn’t had anything to show them yet. She had a year to change that.
But she didn’t have to think about the Franklin award for the rest of the day. She scanned the inside of the fridge until she found the last two cans of beer. She pulled one out and tucked the box of Cap’n Crunch under her arm on her way out of the kitchen. Right now, she could spend a few hours with a friend in a friendly competition. Smiling with a buzz of anticipation she didn’t get anywhere else these days, she pulled out her phone and texted Raven.
I got the afternoon free. You?
Raven answered almost instantly. Looking for revenge?
Dani laughed. Hey, you’re only three games ahead of me. Close enough to go either way
close only counts in horseshoes
What? Dani laughed and then put in ???
horseshoes it’s a game
I know what horseshoes is
Well then you understand the saying
Dani sat on the top porch step and leaned back, phone in hand, and drank some beer as the unsettled sensation faded away. Sunlight slashed across her thighs, and the sounds of neighborhood kids calling to one another shaped a kind of relaxing background melody. Yeah, this was good. She typed, I guess I do, except I’ve never heard anyone under 75 use it.
Her phone stayed blank. No return message. Uh-oh. Sometimes what she thought was funny, other people…not so much. She really liked Raven. Raven was the best gamer she’d ever faced, subtle and swift and smart. Playing with Raven upped her game a lot, and she routinely beat almost all of her other opponents. Raven, though…she had the really bad feeling that sometimes when she did win, Raven was probably doing three other things at the same time. Because when she could feel the focus burning through her phone or emanating from the monitor, Raven annihilated her.
She didn’t know the ordinary things about Raven that she’d know about someone else she counted as a friend. Where they lived, what they liked to eat, hell, what they looked like. But still, Raven was as real to her as Zoey.
She didn’t want to lose Raven. The thought made her a little queasy.
Rave?
The IM popped right away, and Dani let out a breath.
I guess you’re probably right. All my mentors were older. Blame it on my childhood.
Dani laughed again. Safe bet for us all
A smiling emoji came back. Isn’t it?
So you ready? Dani typed.
For sure, Raven replied in her signature response.
Dani opened the app and saw the invitation from Raven waiting for her. Happy, excited, she clicked Join.