Chapter Four
Darla
The constant whirring sound of the elliptical machines isn’t enough to drown out Shelby’s non-stop complaining. I think we all need to take a break and get on the equipment for some stress relief, but Shelby would never go for that. People think since I work in a fitness center, I’m able to exercise any time I want. In actuality, it seems the longer I’m the wellness nurse at the hospital fitness center, the less time I spend actually using the fitness equipment.
I step out of my office and into the main workout area, where Shelby is lining up all our supplies for the screening visit on a table against the wall.
“Isaac Matthew Dupont, the Third, we need more batteries,” Shelby says.
Isaac runs from the closet with an armload of supplies. He clutches a box of pens in his mouth as he dodges a guy doing a set of bicep curls. With the ease of the track star he once was, he jumps over a workout bench. He knows if Shelby uses his full name, he’d better snap to it, even if it’s the last thing he wants to do. Isaac’s real talent is to schmooze with the guests, and it comes naturally for him. With his flawless face and killer grin, he never meets a stranger. Girls are willing to give up practically anything for one date with him, but this dark beauty only has eyes for the guys.
He drops the box of pens out of his mouth. “Hon, I can only be in one place at a time.”
Shelby tugs her long blond ponytail tight. “Well, I need you to be in this place right now.” If her hair is pulled back, it’s best to agree with whatever she says. Men are especially afraid of her when she goes into “take charge” mode. But if guys knew her like I do, they would be falling all over each other to get to her.
Isaac looks at me and wags his head. “Someone didn’t get laid last night,” he says, avoiding a serious Shelby stare.
I stifle a grin as I throw my supplies down on the table in the corner of the room and go through Shelby’s checklist. Isaac should know by now that talking about men, or lack thereof, is off-limits with her.
Nothing is really off-limits with Isaac. He is in constant diarrhea-mouth mode, and I’ve learned to love it. He has embarrassed the crap out of me more times than I want to remember, but he is a true original, and I’m lucky to call him my best friend. He’s the only friend I have left from those awkward middle-school years, and he knows me better than anyone else. But even he doesn’t know my darkest secret.
“Someone’s going to get castrated if they don’t stay out of my love life,” Shelby says, making Isaac and I jump. She may be only five foot two, but that doesn’t include her attitude. There’s not a ruler in the world that can measure that ’tude.
Isaac snarls. “Touchy, touchy, bitchy Barbie.”
“Come on, y’all. Focus,” Shelby says.
Every year around this time, a fresh crop of doctors converges on the university medical center to complete their training. Before they can get started with their rotations, they have to go through a wellness screening—body composition, cholesterol screen, immunization boosters, whatever they need. Shelby is in charge of this chaos, and the higher her stress level, the twangier her Southern accent gets, if that’s even possible. There will be so many “y’alls” and “sugars” today, I know I’m going to want to hurl.
Shelby taps her foot. “Nurse Darla, where’s your ID badge?”
Busted. I hate wearing that thing. I shudder thinking about my photo ID. It’s five years old and was taken during my short pixie-cut stage. I avoid wearing it as much as I avoid the “who’s the father” question.
“Fine. Just a sec.” I run back to my office to retrieve my purse. While Shelby continues her toe-tapping, I fish through my purse until I find the ID buried under a crumbled pile of Goldfish crackers, a bubble gum wrapper, and a sticky note reminding me to buy more Goldfish crackers. I peel off a gummy bear that dangles from the clip and eat it. Isaac looks as if he throws up in his mouth. I clip the badge to my blouse, but when Shelby’s not looking, I flip it over to hide the hideous picture.
“So, how many young docs have decided to come to Nashville for their residency this year?” I ask Shelby.
“One hundred and ninety-two little pricks.”
“Oooh, I love it when she talks dirty,” Isaac says as he bags up blood pressure cuffs and stethoscopes.
Shelby cocks an eyebrow. “Please help me get this stuff loaded on the carts, or we’ll be late, as usual.” She points her finger at him. “And you, mister, are not allowed to make any signs this time.”
He feigns shock. “Hurtful.”
“Last year, your stupid dyslexic brain had them going to the ‘ful’ station instead of ‘flu’ station. Not a good first impression.”
“Oopsies.”
God love him, but Isaac does tend to get his letters mixed up a lot. Even my first grader notices, so although Stella adores him, she has banished him from helping her with her homework.
We toss the bags onto push carts and head out of the fitness center toward the main hospital building. The best part of days like this is that I get some exercise walking across campus while I’m on the clock. The rest of the day is sure to be exhausting and completely boring.
“Zacc Kendrick,” Shelby quietly says, a grin spreading across her face.
“Huh?” I ask.
“The cute one this year is Zacc Kendrick. The name oozes hotness.”
“Oooh,” Isaac squeals. “I get first dibs.”
Nothing he says surprises me anymore. “I wouldn’t get in too much of a hurry. You know Shelby’s hotness indicator has been broken for quite some time.”
“Hey, y’all,” she says in protest.
“Yeah, y’all,” I reply.
“I know, y’all,” Isaac says.
“Come on, y’all,” Shelby says.
Oh no. She has said “y’all” three times already, and we haven’t even left the fitness center. God help us. Zacc Kendrick had better hide if he knows what’s good for him.
Shelby rushes around the room, moving tables and chairs to make stations for all the assessments we will be performing on the doctors. Isaac and I unpack all of our equipment, hoping we didn’t forget something. If we did, there will be hell to pay.
Shelby examines our setup, nodding her approval. “Okay, Isaac, you’re going to handle the body composition station. Try not to get touchy-feely with the docs. Got it?”
Isaac shows his back to Shelby and rolls his eyes. “Yes, Mother.”
I pat his back. I know he has a smart-ass comment waiting to spew, but he’s holding it in. Maybe he’s learning. I’m so proud of him.
“Darla, you will do the cholesterol screens and the antibody titers.”
I square my shoulders, lift my chin, and let out a satisfied sigh. I’ve been drawing blood for so long, I could do it in my sleep. I almost always hit the vein on the first stick. Even the CEO of the hospital has me draw his blood every year for his routine labs. The first time I drew his blood, I was so afraid I would mess up, I needed a liter of fluids afterward. So I figure if he relies on me, I must be pretty gentle. I take a fleeting glance at Isaac and Shelby and find them staring at me.
“Yeah,” Isaac replies. “Every time there’s a hunky doc around, you can’t stop your hands from shaking. You get so worked up.” He fans his face as though he has the vapors.
“I do not.”
“Whatever,” Shelby replies.
All right, maybe that part is true. I don’t make eye contact with good-looking guys for fear they will make me do things I only dream about. Been there, done that, got the baby. Besides, guys have been interested in me so infrequently over the last few years, and the ones that were ran as fast as they could when they realized I had a daughter.
Shelby and Isaac still stare at me.
“Okay, so I’m… shy?”
Isaac wiggles his eyebrows up and down. “Yeah, and I’m a virgin.”
Shelby laughs and holds up her hands defensively. “Not going there. You’re the wellness center nurse. I need you to do the yucky stuff.”
I whine as I take out syringes, alcohol wipes, labels, and my little Sharps container for disposing of used needles. I lay them all out in nice little piles. Tubes? Check. Labels? Check. Needles? Check. Yep, I’m ready to roll.
One by one, I draw two tubes of blood from each physician. I wrap labels around the tubes, and before I know it, I send doc-in-training number one hundred seventy on his way. My back is stiff from leaning over the table, drawing blood for three hours, and my cotton mouth needs a soft drink in the worst way.
“Shelby, I’ve got to take a break.”
She hustles over to me. “Sure thing, sugar, but can you do one more while I call to see where the backups are?”
She takes a quick gander over her shoulder before she leans down and stage-whispers. “I don’t know who this hottie is. He wasn’t on our list. Trust me, you’ll want to hang around for this one. Dr. Stud Muffin is in the house.” She waves her arms around in a “whoop whoop” motion as Isaac hands me a soda.
“Thanks.” I loosen the cap.
Shelby scampers away, and I reply to her back, “Let Dr. Cutie Patootie draw his own blood.” I take a swig from the bottle, and my eyes land on the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen. I would know those eyes anywhere.
The drink slides down my windpipe instead of my esophagus. I try to stifle a cough, which makes my face feel as if it’s on fire. I blow soda out of my nose and all over Isaac. He blinks the drink out of his eyes.
Oh crap. Oh holy crap. No. This. Can. Not. Be. Happening! My heart pounds in my ears. My larynx is so tight, I can only wheeze out a few faint breaths. I’m quickly becoming dehydrated from all the sweat that’s pouring off my face and dripping down my neck. I need a liter of anti-anxiety meds, stat.
Romeo cocks his head, and a slight grin tips up one side of his mouth. “Juliet? Is that you?”
Shelby snaps her head toward me. Isaac wipes the soda off his face. My hands tremble like Isaac predicted they would. I fiddle with the tube labels, but my fumbling fingers send them sailing all over Isaac. When I lunge for the labels, my drink springs out of my hand, and a streak of soda flies across Hot Doc’s perfectly ironed white business shirt.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Instead of wiping the soda off his shirt, which is what I really want to do, I lean over to pick up the labels off the floor.
Isaac leans down. “Are you all right?” He helps me up, but I think Dr. Hotness has me by the other arm.
“I’m okay. Only being my usual klutzy self.” I have two choices. I can either pretend I don’t know him, which is what he deserves, or I can face the fact that my daughter’s father is right in front of me after all these years. I think a third option is more appealing—running away.
Shelby rushes over to me. “On second thought, go take your break now.” She flashes him a killer grin. “Sugar, can you go to the body comp table and come back to the blood draw station in a few minutes?”
He gives her a thumbs-up and grins at me before he leaves. He inspects his shirt and wags his head. Yep, running away is the best option.