After the day is done and I’m home, I immediately call Whitney.
“Lance! It’s been too long!” she says, genuinely excited. There’s that infectious Whitney enthusiasm. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
It feels good just to hear her voice. I knew I missed her, but I didn’t realize how much until this very moment. Not just as a colleague, but also a friend.
“Oh, Whitney. I need another you,” I blurt out. “Every time I try and find someone to replace you, I’m deeply disappointed by the outcome. No one measures up to you. Nobody. Plus, since I keep firing interns, I have to do double the work and I don’t know how much longer I can keep up with even my own patients. Please tell me you have a twin sister exactly like you that you never told me about who can come work for me. Please?”
I’m trying to lighten the mood with more humor than I actually feel. It works, despite my long-winded rant. Whitney laughs— she always laughs at my jokes even when they’re bad and dumb. That’s how dedicated my “favorite intern ever” is… well, was.
“Aw, Lance. I wish I could come back myself, but I’m six months pregnant. And there’s a little thing called medical school which I’m trying to get through. I truly hope we can work together someday in the future, but I can’t help you any time soon.”
I don’t want to make her feel bad, but I can’t help it.
“I know, but it hasn’t been the same since you left,” I add. “You were, to quote the great Tina Turner, simply the best.”
Whitney lets out another small laugh.
“Thank you, Lance. I can see you haven’t stopped being the master exaggerator. But you need to find someone to replace me. I can hear how tired you are over the phone. Promise me you’ll get this done sooner than later?”
“I promise, Whitney. Hey, we should grab a bite soon. Mae is always asking me how you’re doing. Just yesterday, she was yelling at me to call you and invite you out.”
My sister, Mae, called me yesterday to see how I was with all my added burdens at Piñon and basically gave me the same speech Whitney just did. But longer and not as nice.
“Yes! I’d love to see Mae,” Whitney says. “I’m dying to know how things are going with her. And to tell her I’m sorry for dropping off the face of the planet the past few months. Harlow has gone a little baby crazy and dealing with him has been a full-time job. You think he’d be better the second time around.”
“Ah, your hubby’s just a big softy. He’ll be a lot happier once he admits that,” I say. “So, I’ll talk to Mae and call you soon to set something up.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Whitney says. The coolest thing about her is that she means it.
We chat a little longer and then say our goodbyes, but not before Whitney reminds me to stay the course on my hunt for a new PT and to get some sleep.
I really do need to sleep more. Waking up each morning has been grueling.
I look around my empty house as I make my way up the stairs to my bedroom. It’s just as clean and well-appointed as the last time I looked. My eyes land on the clock. I’m going to bed at nine o’-fucking-clock. How did things get to this point?
At least I’m too busy and too tired to dwell on how lonely I am.
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Maybe specify Captain Stern so it doesn't seem like he's thinking about Captain Gibson?
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