In Too Deep(81)

Brad shook his head. "He says he walked into a door frame and smacked his eye a good one, but everyone knows he's full of it," Brad whispered, both of us taking glances to make sure Dr. Green wasn't nearby. He was safely across the ER in one of the exam areas, so Brad continued.

"He came in Friday night late, and they did X-rays on his head. If he ran into a door, he must have been doing it at a full on sprint, because he's cracked the hell out of his orbital bone. I think half the reason he has the eyepatch on is so that he doesn't freak out the patients with a swollen shut black eye."

"Jesus," I whispered, taking a closer look. On the edges of the bandage holding the eyepatch on his face, I could see some of the telltale yellowing of a fading bruise. "Any guesses as to what happened?"

"None at all," Brad replied. "He won't talk about it with anyone."

Our conversation ended, but for the rest of the day Green did everything he could to avoid me, passing me off to one of the other attending physicians, something he had never done before. When my duties required that I talk with him, he was almost painfully polite, never once using any foul language, nicknames, or even derisive tones. Instead, it was always "Miss White," and then passing me back off to the other doctors as quickly as he could.

Even the nurses and other staff noticed Green's odd behavior. "What the hell did you do to him, use your Jedi mind tricks or something?" Gary, one of the male nurses, asked about halfway through the shift. "I've never seen him act this way, and I've been here almost as long as he has."

"I didn't do anything," I said, a little weirded out myself. "Seriously, I've been going to class and working at the Shamrock the past three days."

"Well, whatever you did, keep it up," Gary said, as he and I helped a patient into a wheelchair for going upstairs. "He's been nicer to everyone this shift, and even the patients are complaining less. Aren't you, Mr. Teague?"

"Go blow yourself," the patient, an old alcoholic who was in at least three times a month, usually with something connected to his kidneys or liver, snapped. "Fuckin' hospital people and your damn tests. Just stick me with the same damned IV you gave me last time and let me relax in peace!"

"Now Mr. Teague, you know I can't do that," Gary joked, giving me a wink. While Gary didn't often work with the patients, he had the uncanny ability to let almost any harassment or bad treatment from the patients just roll off of him. It had earned him perhaps the only semi-respectful nickname Green ever gave anyone, Duck. As in, water off a duck's back. "Pushing you upstairs for scans makes my life worth living."

By Tuesday, the mystery had gotten deeper, leaving the entire ER buzzing with rumor. Claiming a personal matter, Dr. Green took a sudden leave of absence with the hospital and got out of town, not telling anyone where. As I waited inside my apartment for Mark to pick me up for our date, I just set aside the whole thing, and thought about Mark.

Even though I hadn't seen him since the previous Thursday afternoon, we talked every day over the phone, or sent text messages to each other. We'd spent an hour on Sunday morning just talking, most of the time on speakerphone as we both went about our breakfast routines, just talking about the best places to get pizza in town. It was great, and the more we talked, the more I realized that not only did I like Mark, I was starting to fall for him. It scared me, honestly, but thrilled me at the same time.

I was tapping my foot on the carpet, dressed in my second best dress, a blue sleeveless one piece that stopped just above my knees. I could make it double as a cocktail dress if I wanted to by adding some accessories, but tonight I wanted it more casual, so I left them off. I was just checking my earrings for the fourth time when the doorbell rang. I checked my peephole and saw Mark standing out on the narrow concrete walkway. He was dressed up just a bit, in black chinos paired with a red long sleeved shirt that hid his impressive physique. Still, he looked devastatingly masculine, and my heart sped up just a bit.

"Just a second," I called through the door, turning to the small mirror next to my coat rack to check my appearance. I couldn't tell if I looked good or not, but at least my makeup didn't make me look like a clown in my opinion, so I opened the door. "Hey."

Mark's immediate response was both funny and touching. He said nothing, just looking at me with his funny little smile, his eyes going up and down my body while I stood there, fidgeting just a bit. "What?"

"You look beautiful," he answered, "and I wanted to take a moment to remind myself of that. Seriously, you look amazing in that dress. Shall we?"

We had decided on a classic date, going out to a movie. In our phone calls and text messages, we found that we both enjoyed the classic movie theater experience, and agreed to go to a recent blockbuster neither of us had seen yet.

"We'll probably throw out half of this," I said as I took a handful to munch on, "but it's just part of the tradition. Big popcorn, big drinks."

"And both of us doing extra cardio tomorrow," Mark whispered. "But you're right, it's a huge part of tradition. When I was a kid, I sometimes replaced the popcorn with candy, though. Two big movie theater sized Reese's Cups, or maybe the Reese's Pieces."

"Me too," I giggled, taking a sip of my soda. "Except mine was Junior Mints or Mounds. Now, though, no way. Maybe I'm just growing up, but all that sugar just doesn't do it for me anymore."