Chapter 5
Danny’s heart thumped wildly as his foot smashed against the brake, his leg taut, and his hands gripping the steering wheel. He had almost killed someone.
The woman stared down at his bumper which was inches from her body. She had been crossing the street and not paying attention. He could see her clearly in the light of his headlights.
It was Sarah, the new nurse from earlier in the green smock. She was holding her chest, as if unable to believe she was alive—frozen in place. Danny looked both ways before opening his car door, aware they were still in the middle of the road and climbed out of the car. He bumped the door with his hip to close it and walked to Sarah’s side.
Danny stood to the side, not sure what to do. She seemed stuck in a trance. “Sarah?”
She turned towards his voice—a good sign—though her eyes were glazed over and she seemed to be in a bit of a daze.
“Sarah, can you hear me?” Danny asked.
She nodded.
“Let’s get out of the road,” he said, taking her by the arm and helping her over to the sidewalk. It was a good thing Danny was holding on to her. Her knees gave out as soon as they reached the sidewalk.
“Let’s sit,” Danny suggested.
“I almost died,” Sarah murmured.
She almost had. Neither one of them had been paying attention.
“But you’re okay,” Danny said.
She blinked, staring at his car which was still running, shining lights into the darkening street.
“Are you okay?” Danny asked.
She nodded, blinking slowly, but finally looking him in the eyes. “Yes. I’m okay.”
“Let me give you a ride to where you were going.” Danny said.
“I was going to the yoga class down the street.”
The classes were in the community center and from where they were he could see the lights were on.
“Okay, that’s not far. Let’s go,” he said. He stood up before leaning over to help her to her feet. She stood, but rubbed her arms as if unsure.
“I don’t think I want to go anymore,” Sarah said.
He could understand that. She couldn’t relax after something as stressful as almost getting hit by a car.
“Okay. Is there somewhere else I can take you?” Danny asked. It was the least he could do. “Anywhere, it doesn’t matter where,” he said, opening the door.
“Just home, please,” Sarah said.
“I can do that.” He shut her door, then walked around the side of the car and slid inside, relieved that he was able to, in some ways, right the wrong he had made.
“Thank you. That way,” Sarah said before pointing in the direction he needed to drive.
“It’s the least I could do.”
“I hope I haven’t made you late or anything.” She shifted, getting comfortable in the seat.
“Not at all. My family knows the kind of schedule I work. My daughter is a good sport.”
“That’s amazing. What’s her name?” she asked.
“Molly.”
“I like that name. How old is she?” Sarah asked.
“Seven.”
“I get that. That’s the age where you start getting your own personality and want your own things,” Sarah said.
“Exactly. My sister loves it.”
He expected her to ask or comment about him saying "sister" instead of "wife," but she didn’t pry. Not wanting a lull in the short ride, he continued talking. “Are you sure you are ok? You look pretty pale.”
“Yes, my heart is still beating rapidly but I am calming down,” she said.
“So. Why pediatric oncology?”
“I lost a young family member to cancer,” she said, looking down at her hands, folded in her lap. She shrugged and continued talking. “And I’ve always wanted to get into that field.”
It was his turn to respect her privacy.
“That will help you be a good nurse,” he said. From his experience, pain made people stronger. Since she was working on his floor she had to know from experience, or from training, that caring for a patient with a cancer took a thicker skin and an extra big heart.
“I hope so.”
“You did well. How do you think you did?” Danny asked.
“I feel confident about it, though I got lost when I went looking for the cafeteria,” Sarah said.
Danny chuckled. “Everyone does. The sign says third floor, but it’s really on the fourth.”
“I finally figured it out,” she said, laughing. “I wonder why that is.”
“I think it has something to do with the way the hospital was built. It was here before people considered the lobby a floor. The elevators don’t say L. Lobby is listed as floor one, but technically it’s a not a floor. It’s L.”
“How long have you been working there?” she said, turning in her seat to face him.
“Going on seven years now,” he said.
“Wow. I bet you’ve seen a lot of things.”
“You take every day one day at a time. Some days are awful, sure. I mean, I work with really sick kids, but some days I get to forget that they’re sick. Children always light up the room. It’s like they’re invincible. Even with tubes sticking out of them and their bald little heads they’ll hold out a toy or a stuffed animal and ask you to play with them. Or ask for a sticker, like life’s that simple. It’s really an honor to be their doctor,” he said.
“I can tell how much you love it.”
“Really?” Danny glanced at her before putting his eyes back on the road.
“Yeah. You know all your patients by name and you never rush them. I’ve worked on several doctors' rounds and you never rush, even if you’re behind on time; you give your patients whatever they need, even if it’s not medical care.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well today you gave Carolyn an extra pudding cup because you found out it was her birthday. You watched an episode of Transformers with Richie because he wanted you to see Jazz. I haven’t been on your service long, but I hear about it. The nurses talk. Oh, and the time you gave Lindsey’s mom a gift card to the spa because she had spent her birthday at her daughter’s bedside. It’s the little things that count, Doctor Struthers, and people notice.”
“I don’t do it to be noticed,” he said.
“That’s why we notice,” she said, giggling.
The conversation was natural and smooth and Danny was surprised by the disappointment he felt when Sarah pointed at an apartment complex and said, “That’s me.”
“Oh. Well. Have a great night,” he said. “I’m sorry, again.”
She scoffed as she climbed out of the car. “Don’t even worry about it. I should have been watching where I was going.”
They both stared, him from the driver’s seat and her from the open passenger door. “Well. Goodnight,” she said, closing the door.
He smiled and said goodnight out loud even though he was the only one who heard it.
He stayed in the car, in front of her apartment complex, until he was sure she was safely inside, before pulling away.
It was easy, talking to her. He had to remind himself to look forward instead of staring at the building in his rearview mirror. He didn’t want to have another incident. He hadn’t had such good company in years. Well, not with just words. He wouldn’t mind spending time with Sarah without words, but he knew that was not a possibility. He shook his head, reminding himself of the very clear policy about coworker relations at work and drove the rest of the way home.