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So, Mel hit her head. Kind of hard, actually. But she was fine. Okay ! Great, even. It throbbed where her skull made contact with the ground, and her tailbone sort of ached, but those were just bruises, she was sure. She wasn’t going to reject it, though, when Dr. Langdon pulled her into a room to conduct a thorough check. It was nice to be looked after. She was so rarely on the receiving end of care. He held the door open, turning the lights off as he entered behind her, shutting the door. The dark and quiet helped her to breathe again. His hand hovered over the small of her back, not quite touching, guiding her to sit on the gurney bed.
“I don’t need a room,” She began to protest, as she sat down.
“You might have a concussion.” He answered. She didn’t have a concussion. Still, she wasn’t going to fight it. “That was supposed to be my patient,” he said, beginning his exam, the flashlight shining brightly in one eye, then the next, “Pupils are normal.” He informed her. She nodded. She knew they would be.
“He probably wouldn’t have knocked you over.” She said. She was fine, but her head was a little fuzzy. And she’d been distracted beforehand. She was doubly so now. Langdon’s hand was cupping her jaw, tilting her head this way and that. He was warm.
“It’s bullshit Robby had me out at triage.” He muttered. He seemed very agitated by the whole thing.
“I agree.” She said, staring vacantly at the wall to his left. He was so close. She wasn’t sure what had happened between them, Dr. Robby and Langdon, but rumors had swirled about some fight by the lockers, but she didn’t listen to rumors. She tried not to listen to rumors. Things were tense between the two men, though, undeniably. “His personal feelings shouldn’t affect your ability to work.” She said.
“Could you undo your braid, for me ?” He asked.
“Huh ?” She looked at him. He was so close now she could see each pore, the steely flecks of grey in his blue eyes.
“So I can check your scalp,” He clarified.
“Oh.” She said. She felt stupid, for a moment, before undoing her braid. “Sorry.” She took the hair tie from her hair and moved it to her wrist, fingers unweaving the braid in her hair. Dr. Langdon watched her as the hair began falling down her shoulders, intent. He was very observant. Mel wondered, often, how she looked to others, how she was perceived by them. She spent so much of her life trying to say or do the right things, to come across as normal, she could never quite tell if she was hitting her marks. What did Dr. Langdon see, when he looked at her so intently ?
“You ready ?” He asked, gloved hands hovering in the air. She nodded once, and then his hands were on her scalp. She closed her eyes, he was so close, and with his hands trailing across her skin, tugging every so gently at her hair, looking at him at all felt intimate. Heat radiated through his gloves, and his fingers gently massaged her scalp, checking for any hematoma. She held on to the breath that fluttered in her chest. She felt like a child again, in the living room with her father. They used to sit together, on the couch, her dads large hands combing through her hair gently, working out any knot or tangle. She’d hated the prickly prongs of a brush, and the harsh pulling at her scalp made her cry, so her father had always started with his hands. The patient who’d pushed her said she reminded him of his mother. She’d only half been listening, when he said it. Dr. Langdon was being thorough, examining her with great care. He’d probably gone over every inch of her skull twice.
“How do you feel ?” He asked, hands coming away from her scalp. She missed his touch. She didn’t usually like being touched.
“Fine.” She said. He looked at her, eyebrows scrunched. She thought about Javadi, months ago now, complaining about a patient.
“ “watch your 11s” she said to me,” Javadi had told the group, “like, great. Now I'm going to be thinking about it every time I move my face.” Everyone had laughed. Mel thought about her 11s, when she crinkled her brow. Not that she cared about getting wrinkles.
“You seem off. I don’t think you have a concussion but you seem... Dazed, maybe. Distracted.” He pulled up a stool as he spoke, "Are you okay ?” He sat in front of her. He was very tall, his legs bent up awkwardly on the small stool.
“Yea. Yes, for sure.” She said, trying to sound positive. He ducked his head towards her, looking for her eyes. “I just…I have a lot going on, right now.” She said, wiping her sweaty palms over her legs.
“Is it your sister ?” He asked, “Becca, right ?” The concern in his voice seemed genuine. And he remembered her name and everything. She lit up, as she always did at mentions of her sister, cheeks pulling into a bright smile.
“She’s fine. I can’t believe you remember all that, it is Becca, and she’s doing great, actually.” The smile faltered. She hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about this, and yet she’d told, or was about to tell, two people. “I was… named in a malpractice suit,” She whispered, even in the closed room, she couldn’t say it too loud. It was humiliating. He leaned towards her, trying to catch her quiet words, “My deposition is today.”
“Is that it ?” He asked, sitting straight again. “That happens, welcome to emergency medicine. You’ll be alright.” He reassured her.
“Santos said that, too.” She told him. He made a face she had no chance of interpreting. Sort of like a cross between resignation and disgust. It looked like her father had when he’d discovered the raccoon in the attic, after she had told him, at 7 years old, there was a raccoon in the attic. The pitter patter of clawed feet had kept her up all night. Anyway, that’s how Langdon looked now. She didn’t know why.
“She’s right.” Was all he said. “You’re protected by the hospital, you could commit a murder and get away with it.” He said.
“She said that, too. Well, she said I could cut someone’s head off. I’m not going to do that, though.” She’d told him.
“Well that’s good.” He said.
“She said I shouldn’t put the ‘mel’ in ‘mel-practice’, which was a funny joke. I was too worried about it to laugh, though.” She wasn’t sure why she was still talking about Santos. The two were just so alike. He snorted, a little, at the joke.
“I’m gonna go,” He said, standing, “If Robby finds me in here he’ll say i’m slacking off. I don’t need to give him any more reasons to hate me,” He told her. “Come find me if you need anything, though.” He began to walk away.
“Oh !” Mel said, too loud. “Um,” She said, quieter, “Nevermind.” She said, finally.
“What’s up ?” He asked, pausing by the door.
“It’s just. Usually Becca braids my hair in the morning, I don’t have the coordination to do it behind my head like that,” Her arms gestured vaguely behind her, “When I braid it myself I do two, but I only have one hair tie.” She explained. He nodded as she spoke.
“Want me to do it ?” He stepped back towards her, just one step. But he wasn’t walking away. She was going to ask if he had another hair tie, but the idea of his hands in her hair again was appealing.
“Do you know how ?” She asked, “I could ask Javadi, maybe. Or Dana.” She didn’t want to ask Javadi or Dana. She liked the women, but she wasn’t sure they were close enough for this. She didn’t like people touching her.
“Yea, I braid Charlie’s hair all the time.” He smiled, eyes crinkling. He was actually as handsome as she remembered.
“Charlie ?” She asked.
“Yea, my daughter, Charlotte. She just turned three, she’s all rough and tumble, so if I don’t braid her hair it’ll be a rats nest before bedtime,” He explained, “She’s got a lot less hair than you, but you probably sit still better.” He joked. She smiled, nodding. Her chest felt all fuzzy at the thought. He braided his daughter's hair. He was a good dad. He reached for the hair tie, and she took it from her place on her wrist to hand to him. She watched him twist it onto his own wrist, before turning around. He was very gentle, splitting the hair into three sections. She closed her eyes, the gentle tugs comforting. He was quick, methodical, and effective. The same way she’d seen his hands move stabilizing patients.
“I’m very glad you came back today,” She said, softly. She didn’t think anyone else in the emergency department would take the time to help her rebraid her hair. There was something soft, about Dr Langdon, that she got the feeling not everyone else could see. It reminded her of Santos and Whitaker, the way the two seemed to understand each other intuitively, even with such different backgrounds. She didn’t understand everything about Dr. Langdon. But she got him. At least she thought she did. It felt like the same was true in reverse. She’d lived her whole life hearing about people who just ‘click !’ and here it was for her. Finally.
Click.
The door swung open, as Dana entered the room, harsh fluorescent lights backlighting her.
“What are we running in here, an emergency room or a salon ?” She barked in, “We got a trauma incoming, 4minutes out, let’s get to work out here.” She clapped her hands twice before disappearing out the door. Mel smiled up at Langdon, who smiled down at her. He was very tall.
“I wanna talk to you some more, before the shift ends, alright ?” He said, standing almost sheepishly at the bedside. She stood, expecting him to step back to make room. She was surprised when he didn't. Mel hated being hovered over, but it wasn’t so bad, with him. Her neck craned back peering up at him, so close they almost touched.
“Alright.” She said, smiling. She hadn’t smiled this much in a very long time. He turned towards the door, holding it open for her as they went.
“Oh, and you’re clear to work, if you want.” He said, as she made for the door.