Chapter 7
I was so excited when the girls called and asked me to have lunch with them. I needed a break from everything that’s been going on in the last week. The restaurant is an intimate place, but it’s nice. I probably shouldn’t be splurging on lunch or shopping afterward, with the way my finances are right now, but I needed this. I didn’t want to say no because of how last week went, but how can I tell these ladies that, Hey, I’m a doctor, but I’m going broke and not even broke, more like in debt?
“Why did you leave so fast, Daphne?” Zoey asks, drawing me back to the conversation.
“It’s too much for me; I couldn’t be there any longer.” Hmm…the way she doesn’t give an exact answer has me wondering if she has a past with one of the men, the way I do. Daphne is a beautiful woman! Her skin is covered in gorgeous colorful artwork; she’s a tattoo artist, so I wonder if she inked any of them on herself over the years as she practiced. Her black and blonde hair flows down her shoulders and her dramatic makeup is flawless.
“I know; I’m never going back there. I can’t deal with Hacker’s shit any longer. I’m sorry, I love you ladies, but it’s just not worth it anymore,” I reiterate what I told them already, partly to get them off Daphne as well. You can tell by her stiff posture and the way she’s looking down that she doesn’t want to talk about it. One of the things these ladies are good for is not giving up. It’s nice sometimes, but damn, when you want them to give up, they just hold on to it.
“I don’t know what the hell his problem is when you come around, but I’d like to nut-punch the shit out of him for it,” Jacey says with a look of disgust. I’ve known her the longest. She was a resident doctor in the ER when I was still in that line of my profession. She was young, younger than any other doctor, and I kind of took her under my wing. We became close, and I was so happy for her when she decided to open her own clinic. Deep down, though, she never seemed completely satisfied with her life and what she was achieving. She’s a different person now that she’s figured herself out.
“Sierra.” Chatty gets my attention while the others continue talking. “I wanted to tell you that I know we haven’t known each other long, but the three years that I was gone, Crazy Girl kept me updated. You are a genuinely good person and I’m sorry that Hacker treated you like that.”
“Thank you, Chatty.”
We finish our lunch and drive over to Ever’s new store. Looking around at all her clothes, I wish I could buy one of everything, but no way can I afford it. I pick out one shirt and feel guilty for even doing that, but I don’t want the ladies to think I don’t like the store. After paying, I go back to my SUV.
Just as I’m getting in, I get a call that I’m needed in labor and delivery.
It’s been six months since Hacker showed up at my house, threatening and scaring the life out of me. In that time, I would find myself panicking if I got home after dark. I was terrified to walk to my own door, so I started taking self-defense classes, and I purchased a gun that I always carry. I kind of feel like a badass, and it makes me smile as I aim at the target.
I’m at the shooting range, unloading a box of bullets into the black figure. I’ve gotten pretty good at shooting, and most of my shots are right on target, either through the head or heart. I never thought that shooting a gun could be good therapy, but for me it is. I feel like a different person when I walk out of the building: relaxed, confident, and meditated.
My phone rings; when I answer, it’s one of my patients. She’s in labor, so I tell her I’ll meet her at the hospital. I rush to get there before she does, and I get gowned up and sterilized, then get my nurses on deck. It’s time to bring another life into this world.
“One more big push!” I tell the mother-to-be. Her baby’s head is out; we just have to get the shoulders now. She bears down, and I start to count down. “Ten, nine, eight.” Her teeth clench, and I know she’s giving it her all. “Five, four, three.” The shoulders are through, and her newborn baby girl slides the rest of the way out into my hands. Newborn cries fill the delivery room. “It’s a healthy baby girl! You did great, Mom. Dad, you want to cut the umbilical cord?”
He nods with tears in his eyes. I clamp the correct areas and the nurse hands him the scissors. When the baby is free I hand her to the nurse to clean her up, suction her mouth and nose, and check her over. The smiling faces, happy tears from the new parents, and hearing those first baby cries give me validation of why I do this job. I finish with the mother and let the nurses take over.
Pulling my gloves off, I tell the parents, “I’ll be by tonight before I head home.” I wash my hands, leave the room, and move on to the other mothers and babies I need to check on in labor and delivery.
Finishing up for the evening, I grab my purse, lock my office, and walk through the clinic and out to the parking lot where I parked the Navigator this morning. I decide that, since it’s Friday, why not get some pizza and movies? It’s been a while since we’ve had a fun evening. I pull my phone out of my purse and call the pizza place. I order a few different kinds, and once I’m off the phone, I drive to the nearest Redbox.
“I brought pizza!” I announce as I walk in the front door.
Cash runs into the foyer. “Did you get cheese?”
“Of course.” I laugh. He helps me carry the food into the kitchen, where Shelly’s already waiting for me.
“Hi! How was today?” I question, setting the boxes and my purse on the counter.
“Hey!” She smiles. “It was a good day.”
“Good. Did you have any problems with his medication?” I ask while pulling plates out of the cabinet for Cash and myself.
“Not today.” She chuckles.
Cash takes his plate. “Sierra, after we eat, wanna play a game on my PlayStation?”
“Sure!” I smile and ruffle his hair. “I rented a couple movies for us, too.”
“Okay.” He shrugs, already stuffing a piece of cheese pizza in his mouth. Typical young boy—doesn’t wait for the rest of us—and it makes me smile.
“What’s for dinner?” Mark comes out of the bathroom with a smile.
“Pizza!” Cash tells him excitedly.
“Awesome!” He stops at the counter. “Where’s the plates?” His features turn to confusion.
“In the cabinet.” I point to the correct one. “Right up there.”
“Oh, yeah, I knew that.” He laughs it off and comes over to the boxes of pizza. “We’re having pizza for dinner?”
“Yep,” I reply easily, my voice relaxed. “Your plate is in the cabinet.”
After everyone gets their plates ready, we sit in the dining room to eat. “How was school today, Cash?”
“It was good.”
Mark’s brows pull down in confusion. “What’s wrong, Mark?” I ask between bites of my own slice of pepperoni.
“Why are we eating pizza for breakfast?” he questions. Cash and Shelly look at each other.
I blink back my tears and smile. “It’s not morning, it’s nighttime.”
Mark looks at me. “What’s wrong with me, Sisi?”
“We’re trying to figure it out.” I reach across the table and squeeze his hand for comfort.
Cash wraps his arms around his dad and hugs tightly. Mark clears his throat and excuses himself from the table.
The rest of us try to enjoy the rest of our food, but it’s hard.
“Nooo!” Cash exclaims. He joins in my laughter.
“I just whooped you at your own game. Not once, but twice!” I taunt jokingly, holding two fingers up.
“I’m going to bed. Night, Sierra.”
“Goodnight, I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He gives me a quick hug then treks to his room.
I go into my home office and start opening bills. They keep piling up, and I’m not sure what to do anymore. Yes, I’m a doctor, but with the price I pay for malpractice insurance, past medical bills, medications, Cash, mortgage, and everything else…I’m not left with much.
In the divorce, Stephen took half of our savings and by the time I finished paying my lawyer it had pretty much run out. I’m sinking further into debt, with no way out. I have people depending on me and I don’t know how to get out of this hole I’m sinking into. Everything is on my shoulders; it weighs heavily, and I’m at the point I may have to start looking for a second job. I’m not sure exactly how that would work since I have to be on-call for my patients. Something has got to give before I hit rock bottom.
It’s getting late, so I get up from the chair, turn off my office light, and go into my room to get ready for bed. I’ll deal with it all another day. Ha, hasn’t that been my mantra for years? How much longer can I put it off, though?