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Another day, another plethora of tribulations in the ER—and another round of gossip at the nurses' station, too.
“Damn, did you see Dr. Robby earlier? He looked really mad,” Princess comments, whispering to Perlah all in Tagalog.
Perlah nods. “Yeah! But honestly, it’s kind of his fault. He was already late, and he’s still the one being demanding.”
“Exactly. And Ogilvie? Oh man, he’s already made three mistakes charting today.”
“He might hear you!” Perlah exclaims, shushing Princess with an exaggerated finger wave. “But yeah, I noticed too. He’s been out of it.”
“That one clearly has issues. What do you think it might be?”
“Whatever it is, I don’t care. He should get his work together first.”
In her brisk walk across the floor, making her way from one patient to another, Trinity passes Princess and Perlah. She overhears just enough to clock the vibe—they’re at it again.
“Wow, starting the gossip early, huh? Who’s the lucky victim today?” she quips, in that classic sharp tone that got her well-acquainted with the nurses in their knack for spilling other people’s business. They slip into their native tongue, sealing themselves in a little bubble where they can talk their smack freely.
“Hey!” Princess says, feigning offense, acting as though she is taken aback. “No—we’re just concerned.”
“Oo, professional concern. Very professional,” Perlah adds.
Trinity nods her head, her movement slow and sarcastic. “Mhm, sure. Not like I just heard you say ‘three mistakes already.’”
“You hear things way too fast,” Princess adds.
“Part of the job,” Trinity replies, throwing the loose hair behind her shoulder from her half-up-half-down ponytail. “You’ve gotta be observant here, y’know.”
“What about you? What’s up with you?” Perlah asks. “Did you come from triage?”
“Yeah,” says Trinity. “I overheard from Donnie—Jesse’s birthday is next week.”
“It is,” Princess confirms.
“Knew he was an Aquarius,” Trinity says with a snap, satisfied at being right about another person’s star sign once again, before asking, “How old is he turning, anyway?” Despite getting to know the nurses better during her time at the trauma center, apparently, simple details still seemed to slip through. Birthdays and ages were usually one of them.
Perlah opens her mouth to respond, but not before sitting up in her chair and looking at Trinity. “Forty-eight.”
“Ha?! Forty-eight?” Trinity exclaims, chuckling to herself. “No way! I thought he was just early forties.”
“I was kind of shocked, too. I mean—he doesn’t look forty-eight,” says Princess.
“Damn, what’s his skincare routine?” Perlah asks.
“Maybe it’s just our stress. We look older than him.”
Perlah scoffs, placing a hand on her own chest in pure shock. “Speak for yourself. I still look fresh.”
“Ay, wow,” Princess replies. “Talk about confident.”
“At least we’re not the ones making charting mistakes,” Trinity quips, inciting a shocked expression in the two nurses.
“Oop—there it is!”
Feeling good about herself and the competence she’s worked so hard to build, a smile tugs at the ends of Trinity’s mouth. The cogs in her mind start to turn at what she’d heard from Donnie, and she starts to wonder. “Hey, are we gonna be doing anything for Jesse’s big day?”
“I’m not sure,” Princess says, looking to Perlah. “Should we?”
“Think he’s off that day, not sure if he has any plans though. Birthdays are just another day for men his age.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t do anything nice for him,” Trinity says, before bidding them goodbye for now, heading back to a patient with a fractured ankle.
They would figure something out.
A week later, after the shift, the nurses (plus Trinity) get home quickly, clean themselves, and get properly dressed. Showing up in their scrubs wouldn’t have exactly been a great look, as they all figured the last thing Jesse would want to think about on his birthday off was taking vitals. They had gotten a few gifts, setting time aside to discuss what a forty-eight-year-old snarky nurse who plays the drums on occasion would want to receive.
With Donnie at the wheel, he sighs as he undoes his seatbelt. The car pulls in to park in front of Jesse’s place, and after a moment, they all start pooling out one by one. Kim’s at the front, assigning herself the duty of knocking on the door.
Jesse would open to a whimsical, capricious sight, one that he’d really only imagined in those sickly-sweet bounce house commercials. Not only were each of them—Kim, Donnie, Princess, Perlah, and Trinity—looking way too overjoyed for a Wednesday evening, but they all had some sort of little birthday hat on. He notes Donnie’s bright pink headband that’s shaped like something of a top hat and a birthday cake with candles on top. Not only that, but they had gift bags with them, colorful tissue paper sticking out the top of each of them. Trinity was in the back, holding a box, strings of balloons entwined between her fingers.
“Happy birthday!” they all say in unison, but Jesse is frozen, still processing. His eyes go to each of them, taking in the exaggerated grins on their faces. He exhales through his nose.
“You could’ve just told me, y’know,” Jesse huffs, holding the door, resigned to whatever they had in store for him. He had a very “whatever, man” attitude about the whole thing, half wanting to get this night over with, half interested in what those glittery gift bags contained.
“Looks like someone’s turning into a grumpy old man,” Perlah says, whispering in Tagalog against Princess’s ear, who nods in agreement.
“That’s no fun, though,” Trinity adds, poking her party-hat-covered head out. “C’mon, don’t you wanna live a little? Celebrate the big four-eight? Have ourselves a little birthday bash with your favorite people?”
“Yeah, man, it’s gonna be great. I promise,” Donnie says with a smile.
“Listen, I appreciate the thought, I really do,” Jesse starts, rubbing his temples with his fingers. “I’m just…”
He trails off, not really able to come up with an excuse other than the fact that he spent his day off sleeping in for the most part. He notices Kim holding a bag with something poking out of the top that looks vaguely familiar, and with a second look, he is sure. Drumsticks. He always needed new ones, as his style was, for certain, fueled by the stresses that came with being a full-time nurse in an emergency department, and the sticks would get worn with ease.
“Alright, come on in,” Jesse says, spinning on his heel with a beckoning gesture, inviting them inside. They walk in, clearing their feet of dirt before doing so. Trinity ducks as she enters so the balloons she’s holding can get in through the door.
Jesse’s living room is suddenly full, and the rest start spreading. It’s like muscle memory to them. Did they usually show up at people’s places like this uninvited?
Shoes get kicked off near the entrance without asking. Coats are hung on the rack by the entrance. Gift bags are set down, landing wherever there’s space—on the couch, over a chair, half-hanging off the armrest as though they belong there. Perlah has already claimed the best seat, right at the end of the couch.
“Uy, how clean,” Princess says, glancing around despite herself. “Did you hire someone, or is this just the birthday miracle?
Jesse exhales a short laugh, still leaning by the doorway like he hasn’t quite caught up with what was happening in front of him. “Wow. Thanks, Princess, I do clean, y’know.”
“That’s up for debate,” Kim mutters, already halfway in the kitchen like she’s been here a hundred times. “Where are your glasses?”
“Second cabinet,” Jesse instructs. “No, left—no, other left.”
Too late. She’s already found them.
“This is like a scavenger hunt,” she says, pulling out a stack of mismatched souvenir glasses, each indicative of a different vacation. The purple one at the top with the painted palm trees on the sides threatened to wobble to the floor and crash, but Kim adjusts her balance quickly and reliably.
Donnie follows her at a much more relaxed pace, hands in his pockets. “At least he has some; lots of people only have paper cups.”
“Just so you know,” Jesse calls weakly, though there’s no heat behind it, “those are emergency supplies.”
“In your own house?” Trinity cuts in, smirking, drifting past Jesse and setting the box down on the table like she owns the place. “What kind of emergencies are you planning for, exactly?”
“The kind where people from work show up uninvited, apparently.”
“Excuse me,” Perlah says from the couch, having a break from the hushed conversation she was having with Princess for a second. “We are the highlight of your day off.”
“Yeah,” Princess adds, already kicking back and making herself at home. “You’re welcome.”
Jesse rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but there’s a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth now, something softer settling in as the noise fills the space around him.
In the kitchen, there’s the sound of a refrigerator opening, then—
“Hey!” Kim again. “Are these your drinks?”
“...Define drinks,” Jesse says cautiously.
She scans the contents of the fridge, then picks up a bottle from the side door. “Beer, juice, and—” she pauses, squinting at the label. “Wow. Baileys. Didn’t know you put in effort.”
Donnie leans in and says, “Hey, it’s his birthday, of course.”
“Wow,” Trinity remarks, appearing right beside them and plucking the wide bottle out of Kim’s hand. “He’s forty-eight, and he has taste.”
Jesse crosses his arms. “Get out of my kitchen.”
“I don’t think I will,” Trinity retorts.
“You’re literally holding my alcohol.”
“Exactly.”
Kim clicks her tongue, already setting the glasses in a row and lining them up with quick, efficient movements. Some things just carried over naturally, from the Emergency Room to sorting out the spirits. “Okay, okay, move, people. If you’re not going to help, then don’t block the way.”
Donnie listens attentively, obediently shifting to the side. Trinity does not, and Kim shoots her a look.
“Miss Productivity has spoken,” Trinity says with a sigh, raising her hands, relenting, as she slides out of the way with an exaggerated bow.
“As she should,” Kim replies, self-assured and confident.
Princess wanders in just in time to lean against the counter. “Are we pouring drinks already?”
“Obviously,” Perlah calls from the living room. “You’re taking forever.”
“Quality takes time,” Kim says, already pouring the Baileys.
“Pour faster, then,” Perlah replies.
Jesse watches it all like he’s been dropped into the middle of something already in motion—like they didn’t just arrive, like they’ve always been here, filling up the usually quiet corners of his place with overlapping voices and an easygoing familiarity.
Trinity presses a glass into his hand without looking at him. “For the birthday boy.”
Jesse glances down at it, noting the way the milky liquor reflects in the light, then back up. “You guys are unbelievable.”
“And yet,” Trinity says, tilting her head with a teasing look while she lifts her own glass slightly, “we showed up.”
There’s a pause, one that’s brief and almost unnoticeable, but it lands. While the air was filled with an electric buzz, the nurses (and Trinity) conversed, sharing the little moments from work ranging from the slight grievances they had with people not present to things they found amusing. Still, there’s a beat of silence amidst it all, and Donnie nudges Jesse, bumping his shoulder slightly.
“Go on, speech!”
“Nope,” Jesse says immediately.
“Oh, please,” Princess insists, glancing to her side.
“Keep it short,” Perlah adds.
Kim doesn’t even look up when she speaks. “Three sentences, max.”
Trinity tilts her head, now looking up at Jesse. “We’ll time you.”
He stifles a laugh, shaking his head once again, but lifts the glass anyway. “Thanks for invading my place,” he says dryly.
“Anytime,” Donnie says.
“Seriously,” Jesse adds, quieter and more gently, glancing between his guests. Some he knew better than others, but all in all, united in the same gruesome muck that their job called for. “I didn’t—uh. I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Good,” Kim says, coming out less sharp than before. “That’s the point.”
“And—” he hesitates, then exhales. “Yeah. Thanks.”
It’s not polished, nor is it long at all. But it’s enough, and the guests cheer.
“Okay, nice,” Donnie says, satisfied.
“That works,” Princess agrees.
Trinity snickers. “Eh, mid,” she adds, nudging Perlah while doing so.
“Oh, come on,” Jesse replies swiftly, but he’s smiling now. Like, really smiling, fully and openly. The lines on the corners of his eyes wrinkle, and everyone can see it—he appreciates this little thing they’ve done for him.
“Cheers?” Kim prompts, eager to keep the ball rolling.
“Cheers!” they echo, all overlapping.
Glass meets glass, uneven but enthusiastic, and just like that, the space settles into something easy—voices rising again, Princess and Perlah already reaching in the pantry for snacks, Kim complaining about the lack of proper organization in Jesse’s kitchen while fixing it anyway.
“Let’s do the cake now,” Kim suggests, standing upright and assertively before glancing at Jesse for the okay. He doesn’t seem to mind anyway at this point, giving a light shrug.
“You just want to eat cake,” says Perlah, looking up at Kim, where her head is resting on her palm at the counter.
“Gotta stay efficient, it’s how we keep moving,” she says, with a practiced, proper tone.
“Kim,” Perlah says, slowly, “You’re triaging dessert.”
Trinity carries the white paper box in, lifting it from the table to the counter, the custom order label still intact where it should be opened. Princess springs up, startling Donnie, and hurries over.
“What’s it say?” Princess asks, peering into the plastic window of the box. When the words register, she howls.
If Jesse wasn’t curious before at what was happening around him, he certainly was now, as they had all started cackling and roaring with laughter, filling the room with the sound of their hilarity. Did he really want to know? He had to, as he was hungry regardless and was starting to get a bit of a sweet tooth after the liquor. And he was the birthday boy. He tries to squeeze through, wanting to see what the big deal was.
“It’s perfect!” Princess exclaims, clutching at her stomach.
“Oh, you’re gonna wanna check this out,” Donnie says, nudging Jesse for him to read the message on the cake. Jesse stares at Donnie for a moment before reluctantly getting closer. He peers over into the box and sees a pretty standard, rectangular, run-of-the-mill vanilla cake with white buttercream piped all over. Scribed in light blue icing, the cake says, in big cursive lettering:
Holy Crap, You’re Old.
Jesse stares at it for a moment, blinks, then slowly turns his gaze to Trinity. A cheesy grin is plastered on her face, evident that she was the one who came up with the idea of putting that on the cake. Smart.
“Hah! Do you like it?” Perlah asks, grinning up at him.
“...Yeah, I like it,” he replied with a nod. He might have tried to come across as sarcastic, but he was too entrenched in the motions of celebration to get the execution right. And part of him did find the message on the cake amusing. “Whoever did this did a good job, I’ll give you that.”
“Courtesy of Amelia’s,” Trinity says proudly.
“Oh, hey, that’s that new bakery I’ve been needing to go to,” Jesse says. “You really did think of everything, huh?”
“We did,” Kim replies, matter-of-factly. “Where are your candles?”
“Don’t think I have any. We can just blow a lighter and pretend.”
“Yeah, let’s get this over with!” Princess raved, rubbing her hands together, practically brimming with excitement.
Perlah glances at her, then says, “Oh, someone’s hungry.”
Jesse reaches into the drawer where he keeps the silverware and grabs a gray BIC lighter. After a few presses, it still works, surprisingly. The heat doesn’t burn him—an advantage of rugged hands built from years of drumming and working as a nurse. A tiny blaze dances in the reflection of everyone’s eyes, and they stand there, waiting.
“Make a wish, unc,” Trinity says, playfully.
“Fine, if you say so.”
He held the small fire up to his face, took a deep breath in, and blew it out. It still lingers, but far weaker after it is done. They holler in delight once the air escapes him, and Princess is already off, fingers grasping at the plastic cake cutter included in the box. Donnie gets some juice to wash the cake down, and Trinity stands back and watches the scene, the merry atmosphere washing her with pride at her work, her idea.
Standing back, filled with a sense of appreciation at being cared for like this, Jesse smiles. His night off to himself is gone. But somehow, it’s better this way.