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One.
Samira and Jack both like concerts, but their taste in music is almost diametrically opposed. She thinks he’s incapable of liking anything recorded in the last 15 years. He says everything she likes sounds the same, as though she actually only likes one artist who is pretending to be 20 people.
There shouldn’t be anything they agree on, but surprisingly there are a couple of bands they both enjoy. One of them swings through Pittsburgh a few weeks before her birthday and he buys tickets as a present.
They hang out in the bar before the show, drinking the over-priced mediocre beer Samira thinks is key to the concert going experience no matter how much Jack tries to convince her that showing up during the opener is the better way. It's for her birthday, so he indulges her.
They are watching the crowd, making up stories about the other people there. He’s better at it than she is, but when she hits with a good story, it’s a really good story and he’ll turn red and make wonderfully weird noises when he laughs. Sometimes beer will come out of his nose. It’s worth it to practice.
It’s his turn and she sees recognition flash in his face. He sees someone he knows. “Shit,” he grinds out under his breath, sounding dismayed, maybe worried. She follows his eyes and sees a pretty desi woman coming towards them; older than her probably, but still much younger than Jack. She knows his wife was white, but she thinks this woman is an old girlfriend and she can’t wait to give him shit for having a type.
“Jack!” the woman exclaims as she gets close.
“Claire,” he says. “So good to see you.” They hug and he kisses her cheek. Claire looks at Samira and then back at Jack. When he doesn’t say anything, she extends her hand.
“Claire Pradhan” she says and Samira introduces herself.
“Claire is Shen’s girl-” he stops himself. “Wait, you guys are engaged now aren’t you?”
She holds up her left hand to show the ring. “Do you work at the hospital too?” She asks and Samira understands why Jack was uncomfortable. She kinda wishes it had been an old girlfriend.
“I do.” she says, rocking on her heels and trying to say as little as possible. She is pretty sure they are about to be busted.
“Is John here?” Jack asks Claire, looking around. He sounds almost normal, but Samira can tell he’s nervous. “I didn’t see him.”
“Oh yeah,” Claire says and points over Jack’s shoulder. “There he is.”
Jack turns and Samira sees Shen clock him and smile. He comes up to them holding a beer in each hand. “Hey Jack, I didn’t know you were coming to this.” Shen hands one of the beers to Claire and almost stumbles into Samira in the process. “Oh. Hey, Dr. Mohan, hi.” He looks back and forth between her and Jack once and then does it again.
Shen is cool and unflappable as usual, but Samira thinks she can smell the shock on him. “Are you guys here together?”
Claire rescues them. “Hon, I think I changed my mind about wings.” she says, crossing between them and turning Shen with a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go get some food before the show starts. Nice to see you, Jack. Nice to meet you, Samira.” she tosses to them as she hustles John to the other side of the bar.
“I take it you didn’t know about that?” Claire asks when they are settled across the room from Jack and Samira.
“Nope.” He turns, so his back to them; he doesn’t want to stare and he thinks he definitely will unless he makes it impossible for himself at.
“And I’m guessing she’s a resident.”
“Ding! Ding! An R4. She mostly works days though.”
“Still scandalous.”
“It’s more that she’s not who I would’ve pictured him with.” John really wants to turn around. Jack and Samira Mohan? It’s so weird. He didn’t know Jack’s wife, but he always assumed she was someone who liked his jokes, who would make dumb jokes back. Someone generous who’d send him to work with cake for people’s birthdays.
“She’s a little young for him, no?”
Shen shrugs. “She’s kind of a cold fish. Total work-a-holic. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen her smile at anyone who’s not a patient.”
“Maybe that’s just her work self” And Claire points behind him. He finally gives in and turns and sees Jack and Mohan together. Jack is tossing peanuts at her and she tries to catch them in her mouth. When she gets one, she jumps off her stool and raises both arms in the air in victory. When she sits again, Jack pushes hair off her shoulders and kisses her. “They look happy.”
“I gotta ask Ellis if she had a clue. She’s always up in everybody’s business.”
“Don’t you dare,” Claire admonishes him. “Jack helped with you getting the attending job, do him a solid and keep it to yourself.” He thinks Claire is right. It’s what he’d want someone to do for him and he’s felt protective of Abbot ever since the day Christine was wheeled into the ED.
John catches Jack alone when Samira heads to the bathroom right before the show starts. “It’s none of my business,” John says. “I don’t think it’s anybody’s business.”
*****************
Two.
Dr. Abbot and Samira are laughing together in the lounge when Cassie comes in.
“What’s up?” She asks. Hoping she can get the joke. Cassie could use a good laugh today. She grabs a mug from the cabinet.
“A guy asked Samira if he was pregnant when she was doing an ultrasound of his balls.”
“You weren’t really listening. He asked, ‘Is it twins?’” She is correcting him, but it’s almost aggressively friendly; she is being chummy with Abbot in a way that Cassie hasn’t really seen Samira with anyone, though she’s certainly tried to get the younger woman to let her in. It’s nice to see.
“And what did you say?” Cassie asks, getting some coffee from the pot.
“I just couldn’t. I said I wasn’t seeing any evidence of that.”
Cassie and Abbot laugh.
“Poor guy was just trying to make you laugh.” Abbot tells her.
“I know. I know.” Samira says and shrugs. “Anyway. I gotta get back.” Abbot gives her a nod and watches her walk out of the lounge. Cassie watches him watch her. There’s something in the way he does; there’s a warmth and a softness in his eyes that is different from his usual Dr. Abbot-ness.
Friendly, laughing Samira. Warmer than normal Dr. Abbot. Interesting.
Cassie was there the day his wife was brought in. She was an MS3 which means Samira was an MS4, but they did their ER rotations at different times. They didn’t meet until Cassie was an Intern. But that day Cassie was in the trauma room with Dr. Nguen, Shen, Collins, Jesse, Princess and Robby.
Drunk driver vs pedestrian. She’d come in a mess, obvious injuries, unconscious, with no ID.
Everyone else was focused on the patient, but Cassie was watching Robby - trying to learn, waiting for instruction; it was one of her first days. She saw something in Robby’s eyes when he registered the woman’s face. She barely caught it, but she remembers thinking, fuck, he knows her. And wondering how.
He looked across the patient to Princess. “Princess, I need you to go get Dana.”
“Are you sure?” Princess had asked, obviously not wanting to leave the patient.
“Yes,” Robby said. “I need Dana, quickly please. Run.” He was calm and reasonable when he said it, but his words turned up the heat in the room. She saw Nguen do a doubletake.
“What’s up?” asked Shen, cool and unbothered as usual, but curious. “Am I missing something?”
Robby ignored the question. Called orders. He wasn’t asking questions; he wasn’t teaching, not really. He was just focused on saving the woman on the table in front of them and giving them instructions on how to do it.
Dana appeared at the door with Princess who immediately tagged back in to work on the patient.
“I need you to get Abbot. Fast.” Robby told her firmly. “I don’t care if you have to send someone to his house. Tell him we need him. Tell him I had an accident, whatever you have to do. Quickly.”
Cassie hadn’t met Dr. Abbot, but she had heard of him. He was another attending who preferred working nights. She was just a few seconds ahead and she watched as it landed on everyone else’s face. This was Dr. Abbot’s wife, or his sister, or daughter, but someone important to him.
They worked on her for nearly an hour, but the rest of her memory of that trauma is just flashes: Shen calling Robby’s name and Robby’s face when he saw the fetus on the EFAST. The long, drawn out, pained way he said, “Fuck.” Dana in the door of the trauma room telling Robby they can’t find Dr. Abbot; that Lena thought he was on a plane to Maryland. The shake of Robby’s head when it was clear she was gone, but how he went on and on. Heather putting a hand on his arm. Robby’s red-rimmed eyes when he called time of death.
She met Dr. Abbot later, after his leave when he made it a point to thank everyone who had worked on his wife. Lena had been right. He was on a plane; that’s why they couldn’t reach him.
That unlocked a new fear in her every time she flew without Harrison – that when she’d turn her phone on after landing and the messages and texts would start spilling in, one after another, quickly adding up, each more frantic than last telling what she’d missed; what was gone.
She looks at Abbot now. It’s hard to see whatever is going on with Samira on him, but now that she knows what to look for she can suss out a looseness that wasn’t always there. He looks like a guy who is getting laid; who is happy. Maybe a little bit in love. She thinks of Samira’s laugh when Cassie had first walked into the room. How unlike her it seemed. How happy it made Cassie to hear it. Oh, she thinks. Well, I’ll be damned.
He gives her one of half smiles; a smile she thinks he learned to avoid showing his slightly crooked tooth. It’s just a bit brighter than she’s used to from him.
“Dr. McKay?” he says, maybe noticing her staring at him. She shakes her head at him and gulps down little more coffee
She comes over to where he’s standing and squeezes his forearm. She rinses out her mug and puts it in the drying rack. She feels the hot pinprick of tears wanting to come out.
“Cassie?” he asks, sounding worried. She knows her eyes must be red. Her mouth must be trembling.
“Don’t mind me,” she says, trying not to cry. “I’m just happy when people are happy.”
*****************
Three.
It’s one of those days. Just busy enough that there’s no time to really chart or finish half their admin bullshit. So, he and Mohan and Whittaker are all sitting in the Hub at 8:25 p.m. still grinding. Frank wants to be done, but he’s not in a hurry to get home… such as it is. The kids stay in the house and he and Abby rotate in and out. He won’t see the kids until Tuesday. It’s one of Mel’s dedicated Becca nights. Tonight all that’s waiting for him at his rented condo is a big pile of nothing.
His back hurts. His eyes are dry. His leg is restless.
He cannot focus. He stares at the computer screen. He takes out his phone; checks the time. He puts it back in his pocket. Forgets what time he saw it was. Takes it out again. Unlocks it. He has three text messages from Mel that he’s saving for later; like a reward. He checks his email. Tomorrow’s weather. Opens twitter and closes it because it takes too long to load on the shitty hospital WiFi. Goes back to the computer. Goes back to his phone.
He just does not want to do what he’s supposed to be doing.
He starts talking to Mohan about the latest EM:RAP podcast. He succeeds in getting her and Whittaker to distract him. He and Mohan tag team telling Whittaker a story about a case they worked on two years ago – God, he really had lost a year – that’s similar to something discussed in the podcast, when Abbot comes by. Dude looks annoyed to still have three day shifters clogging up his ED and chatting away.
Lena has something for Abbot to sign, like with a pen, Frank can follow their conversation and add some color to the part of the story Mohan is telling without missing a beat. Abbot walks to one of the empty workstations next to Samira so he can sit and read whatever Lena gave him.
Abbot asks Lena some question, but his eyes are still on whatever forms he’s supposed to be signing. He tries to sign, but the pen is out of ink. Lena starts to answer him, but an R3 comes by and presents and he looks up; listens while he shakes the pen.
Frank’s focus shifts to Perlah, who is working nights this week as she asks Whittaker about a patient he already handed off to Henderson. Both Lena and the R3 are still talking to Abbot and he’s looking for another pen. Meanwhile Mohan has finished the story and is talking to him and Whittaker about something else in the podcast.
Out of the corner of his eye, Frank sees Abbot try another pen. No dice. He tries a third; it’s also useless. The R3 is done; Abbot gives him some feedback, then Lena is asking about some discharge and Perlah speaks up. Abbot half turns to Mohan, who is still talking about the podcast, but doesn’t really look at her.
“Babe, can you hand me a pen?”
And even though there are like five conversations happening at once everyone stops when Abbot says it, like a huge record scratch.
Mohan looks shocked and like she just ate something unexpectedly sour, but here’s the thing - it takes her like a quarter of a beat too long. Frank can see her hand reaching for a pen even as she speaks.
“Excuse me, Dr. Abbot?”
He’s got to hand it to Abbot, he looks genuinely confused.
Off his look Mohan says,“You called me babe? Why would you do that? Please don’t do it again.”
“I did what? I apologize, Dr. Mohan. I… I have no idea what that was.”
He looks at Abbot and he knows, he just knows, yeah, those two are fucking.
He has less than half a second to think about it and a lot races through his mind, but thinking fast is his life and lives for the chaos. He could look at Perlah and make a face, raise an eyebrow. Maybe getting everyone to think about those two would keep prying eyes away from his own burgeoning deeply secret relationship.
But – It’s not so much that he likes Samira, but he feels a bit like maybe he owes her. He coined Slow-Mo and he’s never apologized. He’s not sure wants to. But when he came back she had been one of the few people who treated him like he hadn’t been gone at all. She just picked exactly right where they left off. As though it wasn’t weird that all of the sudden they were both R4s.
Mel says Samira doesn’t talk about him at all really. Not to disparage him or to support him. Like she’s trying to be Switzerland in the silent war he thinks is being fought over his presence in the ED. It annoys him a little. He wants everyone to pick a side so he knows where he stands.
According to Mel all Samira ever says is that he’s working the steps and it’s fine. He realizes in that moment that it is support of a kind. Not the warmth or the way Dana and Cassie and Mel have his back, but something that shuts down the innuendo. Huh.
It’s the kind of small g grace he wants to get better at noticing, get better at putting back into the world. He makes a decision on how to play it.
“I feel you man,” he says to Abbot, laughing a little, like they are bros in this together. “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been.” And Frank holds up his recently bare left hand, “The right combo of tired and distracted and almost any woman’s voice sounds like your wife’s.”
“That’s kind of sexist,” Whittaker says.
“Wait until you’re married,” he tells Whittaker and everyone is rolling their eyes at him and thinking about his sad sack divorce. And for once being the one that everyone is going to talk about feels good. It takes everything in him not to wink at Samira, but he manages.
*****************
Four.
“Hey,” Trinity says, when she walks into the staff lounge and sees Samira already there, giving the other woman a nod.
“Hey.” Samira answers. She is waiting for her tea to steep, reading something on her phone, and eating what looks like a fucking Berger cookie.
“Is that a Berger?” Trinity asks, getting coffee and adding fake creamer from the little containers in the basket.
“No, it’s a cookie.” Samira says, like Trinity is stupid.
“I know, I mean a Berger cookie.”
“Oh, yeah. You want them?” Samira asks, holding up a small baggy with a few more cookies inside. “I’m not really a fan.”
“Fuck, yes. I got addicted to these when I was doing a rotation at the pain clinic at Hopkins.”
“All yours,” Mohan says, handing them over.
Trinity happily digs in and takes a bite. They are as good as she remembers; the perfect combination of soft, dense cookie and thick, fudgy icing. “Did Dr. Abbot bring these back for you?”
“Hmmm?”
“You can only get them in Baltimore. I know he was just there.”
“I think they were just here in the lounge.”
It’s an obvious lie and Trinity decides to push her on it. “Really?”
“Why would Dr. Abbot be bringing me cookies? That’s weird.”
Samira is trying too hard to keep her tone dismissive and light and it sets off alarm bells in a frequency Trinity thinks she might be the only one to hear. “Yeah, it is, but weirder that you’d lie about it,” she says.
They just stare at each other and she sees there’s a fight behind Mohan’s eye like she wants to say something and doesn’t. Trinity feels for her struggle. Samira looks away first, something in her crumples and that is not like her. Mohan has never been intimated by her. Ever.
Huckleberry thought maybe there was something going on between Dr. Abbot and Mohan, but Trinity didn’t think so. Now she thinks maybe they were both wrong. Maybe there was something darker going on.
Suddenly all the things she’d been seeing over the last few months click into place. The look Samira had given him when he squeezed her shoulder a few weeks ago; something deeper than a normal annoyance with a coworker. The curt “stop it” when he’d winked at her. The way her breath caught and her body seized up when they’d brushed past each other outside south 19. Now she’s eating cookies she doesn’t like, why? To please some guy? Someone whose displeasure will cost her?
She’s been trying not to jump to this conclusion over and over again, trying to assume good intentions with what she sees all around her, but this makes bile rise in her throat. She doesn’t want to throw up, but it might make her feel better. Dr. Abbot is one of the last guys she would’ve suspected and Mohan is one of the last people she thought would be susceptible, but…
Trinity thinks about how Samira and Robby are. Like oil and water. Something about them picks at each other. She knows that feeling; she knows she rubs people the wrong way, she encourages it sometimes, but Samira and Robby are something else. Even so Samira hungers for his approval and he rarely gives it. Maybe that made her vulnerable, maybe it made her look for it somewhere else. Maybe Abbot saw that and took advantage.
“Are you ok?” Trinity asks, genuinely concerned.
“You tell me.” Samira crosses her arms in front of her chest. Protective or defensive posture, Trinity wonders. Her voice is tight, annoyed, that infamous Dr. Mohan tone. And people say I’m a bitch, Trinity thinks. Everything about her says go away, but Trinity knows this game. She thinks she may have invented it, or at least has been one of the best to ever play it.
“I think that depends on –”
“Fuck it Trinity, I can tell you know. Are you going to go to HR or Admin?”
It’s not the question Trinity expected. “I can, if you want. Or I can go with you. If you want a wingman.”
“The thing is I didn’t already tell HR on purpose.”
“No, shit” She says, getting worked up; she had liked Abbot. “It makes me so mad, he acts all bad ass, Mr. Hooah, Mr. let’s be a team, but if he’s… It’s not cool. You’re too tough to let him get away with treating you this way. It’s fucking illegal.”
“Woah. Woah,” Samira says, holding out her hands, telling Trinity to slow down.
“What?” Trinity stops, confused.
Samira leans in and whispers. “He’s not harassing me, or forcing me or anything. We’re in a –” and Samira seems to struggle to say it “in a relationship. A consensual one.” Trinity gives her a look. “He’s not that kind of guy.”
Trinity thinks that’s laughable. That’s why it happens. All the time. All. The. Time. “I know sometimes it doesn’t feel like a guy is, but they can be,” she says.
“Oh Trinity." Samira’s voice is kinder and gentler than she’s ever heard outside of her dealings with patients. “It’s not like that,” Samira continues. “I swear.” She looks at Trinity weighing something, decides and leans in close to whisper again. “I kind of attacked him; he wanted to wait until I finished my residency, but I couldn’t.”
“Really?” She tries to see it. She has whiplash – from thinking Abbot is badass then a letch then… someone too attractive not to break a bunch of rules for? – it’s too much for one conversation.
Mohan gives an almost imperceptible nod and a small, embarrassed smile. “I wanted to climb him like a tree.”
“Straight people are weird.”
Samira laughs at that nodding her head and it’s like she’s a completely different person. She might even be blushing. Trinity feels protective again. She’s not sure Mohan would want anyone to see her soft underbelly like this. She’s not sure how she feels getting to see it. But the moment passes and Mohan is Mohan again. “Look, I’m not going to ask you to keep our secret, but –”
“-- No, I get it. No one likes to be gossiped about.” Trinity knows that for sure.
“No, they don’t.”
*****************
Five.
For Princess and Perlah the ED of PTMC is their favorite soap opera and for months Drs. Abbot and Mohan have been one of the best storylines. It’s not so much a question of will they or won’t they or are they or aren’t they, these days it’s more what juicy tidbit is there to chew on? There have been some good ones.
Princess told Perlah how during the small gathering in the park after the PittFest shooting, Samira sat with Abbot on the bench and the two of them talked in hushed tones until everyone else left.
At Donnie’s baby shower Dr. Abbot showed up for 15 minutes before heading back to the hospital. In that time he drank a club soda, gave Donnie an envelope, joked with Dana and looked over at Mohan approximately 27 times.
All July and August the two of them seemed to find each other at handover and chat, but mostly just it was the way they looked at each other. Santos said Abbot was helping Samira with some last minute fellowship applications, which could be true, but also Princess said it was eye sex and Perlah was apt to agree.
The week before Halloween they’d seen Abbot grabbing all the peanut butter cups out of the bowls of candy at the hub and in the staff lounge, but no one ever seemed to see him eating them. In the next shift they’d see Samira sneaking peanut butter cups when she could, but no one ever saw her take any out of the bowl.
When the weather really turned in November, Mohan would come in with a cup of tea from Common Place and even though she only seemed to be carrying one cup, Abbot almost always ended up with a coffee from there without having to leave the hospital. Perlah thought maybe she hid his coffee in her bag somehow without spilling it, but she wasn’t sure.
Today Princess comes up to Perlah at the hub, sly and excited at the same time.
“I think I found Soldier’s Spotify account.” Princess says in Tagalog.
They use code names for all the best tsismis. People are suspicious no matter what when they switch out of English, so it helps not to use names or loan words that can be recognized. Soldier is what they call Abbot. It had been Red, but they decided to change it when his hair really started going gray to open up the name Red for a nurse who has since left.
Perlah clucks her tongue at her friend in shock. Seeing things in the hospital or when coworkers were all together is one thing. Going into their private lives on purpose seems like another.
“I was bored!” Princess explains. “I looked up everyone. I found Farmboy’s too. And Drummer’s.” Princess says using the names they have for Whittaker and Jesse. “We have a lot to discuss.”
“I can’t believe you.” Perlah worries for her friend, but is curious. She leans in closer.
“It’s fine. Just look.” She shows Perlah his profile on Spotify. User JMAbbot79 has made a public playlist. It’s called, I’m Telling You Mohan, Women Artists Were Better in the 90s. It’s been shared with a user, SMohan.
Perlah snorts. “He’s not wrong.”
They look at the playlist. It’s eclectic and includes Liz Phair, Lauryn Hill, P.J. Harvey, Bjork, The Breeders, Bikini Kill, Morcheeba, Missy Elliot, En Vogue, Tori Amos, and Hole.
“There’s more. Prepare yourself.” Princess opens another playlist. It’s called Night In and it doesn’t take much – Sade, Otis Redding, that song by Portishead – for Perlah to guess what this is. It’s also been shared with SMohan.
“It’s totally a sex playlist, right?” Princess asks.
That’s what Perlah thought, but she hedges. “Maybe?”
Princess gives a devious smile. “We should play it over the PA when he comes in.”
“Princess!” Perlah shoves her friend in disbelief.
“I kid, I kid.”
*****************
+1
It’s not like she planned the whole thing, or picked their names out of a hat and decreed ’Yes, these two shall fall in love!” She’s not God, for Christ’s sake..
It started back in the December when one of Samira’s fellow R2s asked to take a leave of absence to care for his father who had recently been diagnosed with Lewy body dementia. While no one could fault Dr. Espinoza for leaving, the way he did it – calling the main ED line and asking for Robby a mere four hours before his night shift was due to start – left a lot to be desired.
The night shift was already short staffed and the current classes of R2s and Interns had been cursed with more than the average numbers of washouts; on top of that a bad car accident had one R2 leave the program and another left after finding out he had colon cancer. All that, plus it was close to the holidays. It was getting harder and harder to find subs especially when someone called out at the last minute.
Dana could not find anyone to take Espinoza’s shift – not that it was her job, but Robby had asked for help since he didn’t want to wake Abbot up yet. People were using their days off to travel, there were parties, people were drinking more in the day, she was about to tell Robby that they needed to get creative and loop in Abbot when she saw that Samira had tomorrow off.
Next time she was by the hub, Dana called out to her. “Hey Mohan, want to work a double? The night shift is about to be dangerously understaffed.”
Samira thought for a moment, hands in her pockets, staring at the board, considering. “Ok, sure.”
It became her thing after that. If Samira had a day off, she’d work a double right before it.
One night Dana had agreed to stay until 10 p.m. so Lena could see her kid in the school play and take her out afterward for a milkshake or something. What she sees shocks her a little. In a good way.
Ellis leans over one of the desks at the hub and watches Abbot and Mohan volley barbs back and forth like it’s a tennis match. Dana watches without looking.
“Aye Aye, Captain!” Samira sasses at him.
“Ok, first – ‘Aye Aye’ is the Navy and I was in the Army. And second – I retired as a Major.” He sounds really wound up.
“A major what?” she says completely without guile.
He harumphs and Dana sneaks a look at him and sees him make a funny little grimace.
Ellis erupts in laughter. “You walked right into it, old man,” she crows. Shen snaps and drops a fist across his body in resignation.
Samira wiggles her fingers at Ellis and Shen. “I accept cash, paypal, venmo, cashapp.”
“I don’t even mind,” Ellis says, taking out her phone. “It was worth it – best 20 bucks I spent this week..”
“You won 20 bucks from each of them?” Abbot asks Samira, sounding shocked and dismayed.
She nods. “Coffee is on me when the place around the corner opens at 5.”
Abbot sounds serious, almost Shakesperian but even only half watching Dana can tell he’s playing. “Don’t give these philistines anything!”
Samira laughs. They are all laughing, but seeing Abbot, Ellis, and Shen laugh and joke around isn’t a strange thing. Dana is sure she must have seen Samira laugh before, maybe at a party or outside the hospital, but she can’t imagine when.
Abbot watches her laugh. He’s clearly pleased and Dana thinks he knows what a rare sound it is. He looks delighted by it.
They are not who she would’ve picked for the other all things considered, but the heart wants what the heart wants. That part isn’t up to her. But sometimes she just needs to give the idiots a little push.
***
Dana makes a fresh pot of coffee before she leaves; takes Samira’s thermos from the drying rack and fills it. Manages to run into Jack on purpose, but makes it look random. “Do me a favor, will ya, Samira was looking for this,” she says and hands him the insulated mug. “Will you give it to her? I’m trying to get out of here.”
“Sure,” he says, not suspecting a thing.
***
She pulls Samira aside in the middle of the day shift before she’s due to work a double.
“It’s Abbot’s birthday tomorrow, well, tonight I guess.” she tells the younger woman.
“Oh, is there some sort of collection or a card?”
“Nah, he didn’t want anyone to make a big deal.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
“No one likes their birthday to go by completely unnoticed.”
“I still don’t know why you’re –”
“--I can’t trust any of his little Night Crawlers; they’ll go overboard. But I trust you.”
Samira nods. Gets it. “Ellis would likely spring for a singing telegram. If they still do that.”
“Maybe a card is a good idea?” Dana says.
Samira shakes her head and looks at her watch. “I have a better idea. Thanks Dana.”
***
“Hey Dana, I need a room for a minute, what’s free?”
She takes Jack in, sweaty and dishelved, still in camo from bringing in his SWAT teammate. She can’t help but worry. “You ok, need some help?”
“Nah, I’m fine. Ten minutes tops and it’s yours again.”
She thinks about it. She isn’t so sure he doesn’t need someone. No one has told Samira yet that her patient has gone AMA. “Take central six, hon. I’ll try and make sure no one bothers you.”
When she sees Samira a minute later, she stops Perlah from telling her that Orlando Diaz has left.
***
“Jack, I totally forgot. Did Samira find you?” It’s the truth and she kicks herself. It’s been a long, stressful day and it’s not over yet for her. Robby looked better when he left and Jack had said earlier that he thought he had reached him, but who knows. She’s not terrified anymore for Robby, but she still worries.
She can’t help it. These are her people. They are not her husband, or her kids, or her siblings, but she loves them all the same. How can she not?
She told Benji that she had to come back for the patients, for the Ilanas and the Digbys and Louies, but she came back for Robby too and Jack. For Princess, and Perlah, and Donnie, and Olive. Emma. For Cassie and Samira and Mel and Frank.
She’s built two families in her life so far: One with Benji and the girls – the life the world and every instinct in her body told her her make and the other more slowly, an odd assemblage of lost souls; people looking to heal the world and filled with enough ego to think they can do it. They come to the hospital to work and pour themselves out into it. How can she not hold them, help them give shape to the hunger that pushes them. That pushes them all.
Jack is only half paying attention to her; looking at the board. “Hmm?”
“She was looking for you.”
“When was this?”
“After you left, but before you came back.”
“No, I barely saw her.” His forehead wrinkles in thought. “Do you know what she wanted?”
Dana shrugs. “She had a rough day.” She could make it about the letter and Samira’s sudden confusion about her career, but she decides to keep it vague. Let them suss it out together, she thinks.
“Didn’t you all?”
“He was particularly tough on her.”
“Dana,” he says, his voice is a warning; he seems tired. It’s been a long day for him, too, even if it’s also barely starting. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not the unofficial counseling service of the ED.”
“Just for Robby and Samira.” He makes a face. “I meant what I said before – you’re the only he listens to and you’re the only one who makes her laugh.”
“That can't be true.”
“But it is, get your ass in gear, soldier.”
***
Dana gets all the way home before she realizes she left her phone at the hospital. Benji offers to go get it for her, but she waves him off. Tells him she’ll go back herself.
By the time she pulls into the parking garage it’s nearly 9:45 p.m. As she’s walking towards one of the employee entrances, she sees Jack Abbot. She almost waves, but thinks better of it; retreating into the shadows so as not to disturb him.
He’s standing by a car, talking to someone who has their driver side window rolled down. Dana can’t see who is in the car, but she has a guess.
“It’s less of a drive if you just go to my place, I don’t mind,” he says.
“I’m fine,” she hears Samira answer. “It’s not that late.” Dana has to suppress a little squeak of joy.
“You’ve had a long day, though.” Jack’s voice is firm; concerned.
“You know, you really counteract all my arguments about your age when you act like such an old woman.” Samira snarks at him.
He laughs. Dana thinks she should’ve guessed that he’d like her prickliness. It makes her happy to see.
“Ok, ok,” he says resignedly and then leans into the open window to kiss her.
Suddenly forgetting her phone feels lucky, like a little gift, so she could see them together like this. She tries to stay as still as she can in the shadows as she and Jack both watch Samira’s car pull out and drive off. Then he turns and walks back toward the hospital. He whistles a love song she immediately recognizes.
Well, Dana thinks, would you look at that.