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Trinity was sorting through her locker, getting ready to pack up and leave when she felt the sharp jab of an elbow against her upper arm. She turned and saw Dr. Garcia standing beside her, arms crossed.
“You know I’m not going to let you off the hook for much longer, right?”
Trinity’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “For what?”
“For the drink you owe me. You know, for dropping a scalpel into my foot.”
Trinity rolled her eyes. “Oh, right. That. I thought we’d moved past it?”
Garcia gave her a sly smile. “We have. But that was part of the deal for moving past it, remember? You owe me a cocktail. I gave you a few weeks to get used to your new big girl job, so I didn’t push it, but I think it’s time to cash in on it, don’t you think?”
“You name the time and place and I’ll be there.”
“What are you doing now?”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. You’re clearly getting ready to leave. I’m getting to ready to leave. I’m sure you have a very exciting life when you’re not at work, but I figured you might have 30 minutes to spare to get a drink.”
The side of Trinity’s mouth picked up in a smile. “I think I could spare 30 minutes out of my very busy schedule for you.”
In fact, the only plans she had for after her shift was to change into the comfiest t-shirt and sweatpants she owned, heat up a store-brand Lean Cuisine that probably had freezer burn on it, and watch whatever mindless reality show was on Bravo until she passed out.
Garcia smiled at her again. “Perfect. Let’s get out of here.”
As they left the locker room, Trinity asked “Would Ray’s be ok?” naming the bar that was a block away from the hospital and was a favorite of the staff in part because of its location but mostly due to the fact that they had dirt-cheap beer and a Happy Hour that lasted most of the night to accommodate for those who got off shift late.
Garcia gave off a disgusted snort. “Ray’s? Hell no. We’re going to Tria.” Tria was a much classier establishment, a proper cocktail bar that was a few blocks away from the hospital and catered more towards the nearby office workers who were more likely to drop $15 on a drink than broke residents and medical students.
“I see what you’re doing. Trying to bleed me dry as a way of getting back at me.”
Garcia rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to bleed you dry. God forbid I’d like to actually enjoy a drink and conversation without having a 22-year-old who smells like PBR and body odor breathing down my neck.”
Trinity laughed and said “I hate that you’re so right about Ray’s patrons,” but internally she felt like screaming. Garcia actually wanted to enjoy a drink and conversation with her? It almost sounded like Garcia was expecting this to be… no, she couldn’t go there. Garcia was her superior. There’s no way she would want to go on a DATE. Not with Trinity. Trinity didn’t even know if she was into women or not- as much as she hoped, and as much as she picked up on a vibe, she didn’t want to just presume. And even if she WAS into women, there’s no way she would be interested in her, of all people… right?
It was a nice evening, the heat of the day having softened to a pleasant warmth. “Would you be ok to walk there?” Trinity asked. “Whitaker’s on night shift and has my car.”
Garcia laughed. “Seeing as I didn’t drive either, I don’t think we have another option.”
“Do you not have a car?”
“No, I have car. I just like walking.”
“Me too. I’ve never lived anywhere where walking was even an option, so maybe it’s still a novelty at this point.”
“You’re from… California?” Garcia said, the last part inflecting as if it was a question.
“Phoenix. Well, I grew up in Phoenix, then went to UCLA for undergrad and stayed there for medical school. What about you?”
“Born and raised in Miami. Yale undergrad, Penn for med school.”
Trinity whistled. “Shit, I love how you just casually dropped that you went to TWO Ivy Leagues.”
Garcia rolled her eyes. “Says the person who was an Olympic gymnast, at least according to Mohan.”
It was Trinity’s turn to roll her eyes. “Mohan doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I was a collegiate gymnast. I never went to the Olympics. I wasn’t THAT good.” Technically, that was the truth- the one year she’d competed at the elite level, when she was 14, she finished in the bottom third at the national championships and was leagues behind the girls who eventually would go on to make the Olympic team a few years later. But she mostly chose not to continue competing at that level because she didn’t want to have to spend more time with HIM than she already had to… but she wasn’t going to let that slip to Garcia just yet.
Garcia laughed softly. “Well, I think the most important takeaway is that we both clearly wanted to escape the heat from our childhoods.”
“God, Phoenix is THE WORST. Why anyone decided to build a huge ass city in the middle of the desert is beyond me. It’s not fit for human habitation. I was with my parents for a couple of months before coming out here and I thought I was going to burn alive. They have a pool but it’s so hot that it doesn’t even help.”
“At least it’s a dry heat. South Florida is the most miserably humid place in existence.”
They spent the remainder of the walk to the bar arguing about whether Phoenix or Miami was a more miserable place to grow up, with Trinity winning the argument that Phoenix was worse because at least Miami had a beach.
Tria was… much nicer than Trinity was expecting. It had a cozy vibe, with low lights and soft piano music playing in the background. It was decidedly a date spot, and not a post-work watering hole like Ray’s. They looked a bit more out of place there than they would have at Ray’s, their scrubs clashing with the suits and business casual of the other patrons, but Garcia didn’t seem bothered by that fact at all as she strode to the bar and sat down. Trinity picked up the menu with the day’s drink specials, cringing at the fact that the cheapest item on the menu was an $7 craft beer on draft- no Miller Lite here. Garcia’s taste was seemingly more expensive than hers.
“What are you thinking?” she asked. “I mean, seeing as I’ll be paying for it.”
Garcia put down the drink menu and picked up the bottle service menu. “I think I’m going to go with this one,” she said, pointing at a Rioja that was close to $200.
Trinity softly shoved her. “I said you get a drink, not a $200 bottle. That’s a month’s worth of groceries.”
Garcia rolled her eyes. “It’s a joke, Trinity. Clearly.”
Trinity’s eyebrows raised. “Oh, so we’re on a first name basis now?”
“Of course we are. You don’t expect me to call you Dr. Santos when we’re off the clock, do you?”
“I guess not… but I’ve been calling you Garcia.”
“I know, and I kind of hate it.”
“What do you want me to call you then? Yolanda?”
Garcia- Yolanda- let out a laugh. “You can call me Yolanda, Yo, Yoyo, I’ll even answer to ‘Hey you.’ Just not Dr. Garcia, at least not while we’re outside the hospital.”
“Ok Clark Kent. I see we’re keeping our identities separate.”
Yolanda laughed gently. “Not a superhero. Not even separate identities. I just… I don’t necessarily want to be Dr. Garcia all the time. Sometimes I just want to be Yolanda.”
“Yolanda. I like it.” Was Trinity mistaken, or did Yolanda blush slightly as she said it? She never would have taken her as a blusher, or even someone who got remotely bashful about anything.
The bartender interrupted their conversation to ask for their orders. Yolanda ordered a martini, which was thankfully only $14, and Trinity ordered a beer.
“I took you as more of wine drinker,” Yolanda said, slowly sipping her martini.
“I like wine,” Trinity said. “But I’m more of a ‘$8 bottle of Barefoot’ wine drinker, not a ‘$16 glass of some European specialty’ wine drinker.”
“I forget how young you are,” Yolanda said. “You’re still making hardly anything. The expensive wine taste will come with time and a higher paycheck.”
“You say that like you’re so much older than I am. You’re what- five years older than me?”
“Yes, but you forget that residency ages you faster. I think I’m the equivalent of being about 50 by now.”
“So by this time next year I should be into my 40s? That’ll close the age gap some.”
“You forget that I’ll still be aging too. I’ll be in my 60s. Practically ready for retirement.”
“You’ll never retire. You like working too much.”
Yolanda smiled, looking down at her glass. “I do like it. I’ve wanted to be a trauma surgeon as long as I can remember. But sometimes I miss being who I was before all this, before all the shit I have to see on a daily basis. All the shit that I can’t stop seeing, that plays over and over in my head. I’m sort of jealous of everybody else here,” she said, looking around the room at the other patrons, who probably worked at law offices and CPA firms and banks. “They can go home and just… move on. Work out and make dinner and watch something stupid on tv.”
Trinity frowned. “I go home and work out and make dinner and watch stupid tv.”
“I mean, yeah, so do I. But when you’re doing those things, are you able to tune it all out? Or do you think about the fact that a man nearly bled out in front of you, or that you’ve had to tell a mother than her little girl didn’t make it through surgery? I think about it constantly- the horrible injuries, and the people who I couldn’t save.”
Trinity’s eyebrows furrowed. “When you put it that way… but I also think about the people we save. We see a lot of shit, but we do a lot of good, too. Maybe I’m just a stupid resident who is too much of an idealist and by the time I’m where you’re at in my career I’ll think differently, but I still have a lot of hope.”
Yolanda gave Trinity a soft smile. “That’s one of the things I like most about you. There’s a lot of jaded people out there. I guess I’m one of them. But there’s plenty who don’t get jaded. I hope you never lose your sense of hope.”
Trinity ducked her head, blushing, unsure of how to respond.
Yolanda groaned. “I went and ruined it, being all serious for a second.”
“No, no you didn’t!” Trinity said, reaching out to touch Yolanda’s hand. “I like talking about this kind of thing.”
Yolanda turned her hand over so that she was grasping Trinity’s hand in hers, and gave it a squeeze before releasing it. “So- what DO you do when you aren’t stuck in the ED? You said you work out, make dinner, watch stupid tv…”
Trinity laughed. “By ‘work out’ I mean that I go to the gym like once a week, and by ‘make dinner’ I mean that I heat up a Lean Cuisine because I don’t have time to cook. If not that then I just eat half a loaf of bread and a block of cheese like I’m some kind of French peasant. And then of course, I watch a lot of stupid tv.”
“Please don’t say Bachelor Nation.”
“God, no, what kind of person do you think I am? I’m a Bravoholic, and I only go for the best.”
“Real Housewives?”
“Of course. More of a Vanderpump Rules fan though.”
“My ex was obsessed with all of it. I know far more about all of the Real Housewives than I care to admit. She had it on constantly.”
Trinity’s stomach swooped. Yolanda had said “she.” Her ex was a woman. She managed to keep her voice under control when she asked, “What about you? What do you do when you’re not stuck in the hospital?”
“In an ideal world, I would say I wake up and run 5 miles a day and do the New York Times crossword at breakfast and read medical journals before bed at night. But realistically I’m able to get 3 miles in a couple times a week, I can only fit the mini crossword in most mornings, and I watch stupid videos on my phone that are most definitely AI for 3 straight hours instead of reading anything.”
“That’s still more than I do. Minus the three hours on my phone. I do a lot of that.”
Yolanda laughed. “Each year I say that I’m going to get my life together. I’ll train for a marathon, learn pottery, and start dating again. But each year I continue running the same 3 to 5 miles, never learn anything new, and am still single.”
Maybe it was the liquid courage from the alcohol starting to hit her, but Trinity somehow mustered up the bravery to ask “When was the last time you dated anyone?”
“Oh, God, I think at the beginning of my residency. However many years ago that was. I met my ex in med school, but I moved here and she stayed in Philly and we just couldn’t make the distance work. I downloaded one of the apps and realized I hated every second of it..”
“So there hasn’t been anyone else since then?”
Yolanda sipped her martini, eyeing Trinity over the glass. “I never said that. There have been others. But no one serious, no one I would consider myself to be ‘dating.’”
“One night stands then?”
“You could call it that.”
“Anyone from work?”
“Maybe.”
“Anyone I would know?”
“Maybe.”
Trinity laughed softly. “Ok, be coy then.” She finished the last of her beer. “Shit, I probably shouldn’t have asked you any of that. It’s probably a million different types of HR violations.”
Yolanda rolled her eyes. “No it’s not. There’s nothing wrong with asking. Besides, I was curious about you, too. When was the last time YOU dated anyone?”
Trinity ran her finger around the rim of her empty pint glass. “Med school. I went out with a few people, but nothing ever really lasted. I know this is probably a shocker, but I can come across a little strong, be too confident.”
Yolanda laughed. “Yeah, just a bit.”
“Apparently that’s not a highly sought-after quality in a romantic partner. It scares people off.”
“Not everyone. In fact, some people actually find your confidence attractive.”
Trinity raised her eyebrows. “Oh, they do, do they?”
The corner of Yolanda’s mouth turned up. “Yeah, they do.”
Trinity looked down. Yolanda’s left hand was resting on the bar, just a few inches from Trinity’s right hand. Trinity shifted her hand ever so slightly, so that their pinkies touched. Yolanda didn’t move her hand, so Trinity placed her pinky over Yolanda’s so that they overlapped.
“Did it take you this long to figure out that I’ve been flirting with you for weeks?” Yolanda asked softly, staring at their joined hands.
“I didn’t know at first,” Trinity replied. “You kind of flirt with everyone. I didn’t even know if you were into women.”
“Of course I’m into women!” Yolanda scoffed. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“I didn’t know if you knew I was into women.”
“Again… very obvious.”
Trinity rolled her eyes. “But… why me? I piss you off almost every day. I’m too cocky for my own good.”
“You do piss me off every day, and you are too cocky for your own good. But like I said, your confidence is attractive. You’re smart as hell and aren’t afraid of showing it. You’re a damn good doctor, and an even better person.” Yolanda smiled. “It also helps that you’re extremely hot.”
Trinity blushed. “I am not.”
“You are. That first day we worked together, I couldn’t stop looking at you.”
“And then I dropped a scalpel on your foot.”
“And then you dropped a scalpel on my foot. But it didn’t change the way I felt. Me asking you to buy me a drink to make it up for me was just an excuse to get you to ask me out.”
“So this was all a set-up?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“I think you’re the smart one, because I fell right into your trap.”
“Don’t pretend like you weren’t wanting the exact same thing. I see the way you look at me.”
Trinity blushed again. Yolanda moved her hand so that it was fully enveloping Trinity’s, interlocking their fingers. “I liked it.”
“Good.”
“So what now?” Trinity asked. “Where do we go from here?”
“I don’t feel ready to be done here. Not with this conversation, at least.”
“Do you want me to buy you another overpriced drink?”
“No,” Yolanda said. “Besides, you’re not buying, I am. I make more money than you, it’s only fair that I pay.”
Trinity sighed, but she wasn’t going to pretend that saving over $20 wasn’t helpful to her. “Fine, then why don’t we go back to my place? I have a bottle of wine we could open. And we can… talk.”
Yolanda gave her a sly look. “Oh, I have a feeling that we’ll be doing plenty of… ‘talking,’” she said in a tone of voice that went straight to Trinity’s core. “And I, for one, can’t wait to get started.”