Turner’s eyebrows drew together even deeper as if he was trying to solve some mysterious puzzle that didn’t make sense to him. There was nothing to solve. I readied myself for the onslaught of questions, to which I had an answer for all of them. I thought he would do what all of the men that got brave enough to ask me out would do.

Beg.

Instead, he simply nodded, smoothed his perfect features, and opened the door for me. “Okay. Well, it was nice meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you around the hospital. Good luck on the job search.”

What? No, “Do you even like guys? If you would just give me a chance. Are you a prude? Are you saving yourself for marriage?” Nothing. He asked me none of the questions I’d anticipated being fired in my direction. Instead, it was me that stumbled. Well, this was a first. I guess Turner Brooks asks once and that’s the only chance you got. I couldn’t tell if it was a nice feeling or a bad one that he brushed off my refusal so easily, but, regardless, I plucked a smile on my face and nodded at him. Straightening my shoulders, I moved past him and made my way to my car. I felt his eyes on me the whole way. When I climbed inside, I turned to look back at the house. The front door was closed and he was nowhere in sight. How odd. I could have sworn he would still be standing there. Shaking off my odd day, I headed home, wanting nothing more than to elevate my ankle while I soaked in a hot bubble bath and relaxed. I was ready for today to be over.

7 months later . . .

“PUSH, CECILE.” I coached my patient.

Grunt

“ . . . three, four, five, six . . . ”

Grunt

The mother in labor was panting hard as she tilted forward grasping herself behind her knees.

“Eight, nine, ten. Good job, you can relax and wait for the next contraction,” I said as I brushed back the hair that was sticking to her damp forehead.

“I can’t do this,” Cecile pleaded to her husband, who had a very apologetic look on his face. I’m sure it was hard for him to see his wife in so much pain, as it was for every husband that came in and out of my delivery rooms.

“Yes, you can, sweetie. You’re doing so well,” he cooed.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. “No, I can’t. I’m so tired, and it hurts so bad. Please, no more. Just get him out.”

My patient had been in labor for over twenty-four hours. The doctors hadn’t been sure if she was going to dilate to the full ten centimeters she needed to in order to have a vaginal birth. The obstetrician hadn’t decided whether he was going to let her progress the way that she had been, or if we were going to wheel her in to the operating room. Fortunately for Cecile, she dilated the last three centimeters in a short period of time. She had been pushing for an hour and I could see the exhaustion written all over her face. There were some moms that came in here and could continue to push for two, even three hours. Then there were others, like Cecile, where every ounce of energy was depleted and she literally had nothing left to give.

“Alright, Cecile, the next contraction is coming and the baby is right here,” Doctor Linds said. “If you give me one more big push, this will all be over. Come on, give me all you’ve got.”

She curled up into a C-position and I held onto one of her legs, while her husband held her other. She bore down and pushed until she was red in the face. I started my counting just like I did with every contraction. More sweat beaded on her forehead and I could tell she was determined to make this her last push. I looked down and saw the crown of the baby’s head making its entrance.

“There you go, Cecile, the baby is coming out, keep going. Push hard!” I said excitedly.

Within a few short seconds, a bloody, wet, little baby slipped out and the doctor worked on clearing the baby’s lungs and nose. The parents visibly relaxed as they looked on with teary faces. A few short seconds later, little cries sounded in the nearly quiet room. I handed Dr. Linds a couple of cloths to help wipe the baby off as he lay the newborn on the mom’s stomach. This was always my favorite moment. The moment when the family of two becomes a family of three. The moment when they are inspecting every little inch of their new little bundle and they are feeling euphoric. These moments, they will never get old. After doing my normal duties of weighing, and cleaning off the baby, I stepped out of the room to give the new family some time to bond. We’d move them to a regular room once the mom’s bleeding slowed down and all vitals are stable.

Walking to the nurse’s station, I sat down and pulled out a couple of charts. I had to get some paperwork done before I was able to go home for the night. I was exhausted and thinking about my cushiony pillow and bed drew a long yawn from my mouth. My coworkers milled about the halls, checking on patients, and the nursery. When I started my job here, I don’t think I anticipated loving the L&D floor, but I did. There was so much reward and satisfaction that came with helping to bring new life into this world. Although, my first few weeks here were rocky. I found that nurses, while friendly and extremely caring with their patients, could be a little cliquish amongst their coworkers. Coming onto a shift where they’d not had a new person in months was a challenge. It took some time, but I felt more comfortable with the nurses I worked with on a regular basis. I started charting my latest delivery and all of the medications that were administered. While I was working, I overheard two other nurses talking and my ears perked up when I heard the name “Dr. Brooks.”

“So where’s he taking you?” A girl I didn’t know asked.

“We are going out to a comedy club downtown on Friday, and after that . . . I guess we’ll see,” Robin laughed.

“Uh huh, we’ll see alright. Did you hear what he did with Christy down in X-ray last week?” The other nurse, whose name I didn’t know, teased.

“No, what?”

“Apparently, the good doctor has a thing for supply closets. She said he didn’t even give her a chance to take her scrubs off.”

I glanced up just in time to see Robin rolling her eyes. “Whatever. He won’t even remember X-ray Girl’s name when I’m done with him. In fact, maybe Dr. Brooks will finally see the light and settle down.”

The hope in her voice that she even had a snowball’s chance in hell made me snort out loud. Both women turned to me and I looked back down at my papers.

“Did you say something, Annabelle?” Robin asked.

I brought my eyes back up and tried to appear innocent. “No, sorry. I thought I had to sneeze.”

They both gave me an quizzical look and brushed off my interruption. “Anyway, I’m going to Pink Lace after my shift to get some things that I think he might find, appealing,” she purred.

“Yeah, what do you have in mind?” The other girl asked inquisitively.

I peered back up through my lashes to watch the conversation. I wasn’t normally an eavesdropper, but I was curious. Ever since my first run-in with Turner, I’d started paying more attention to the rumor mill. As it turns out, Dr. Brooks seemed to be a lady’s man, which I pretty much already assumed. But apparently he’d made his way through the hospital staff and left a trail of swooning women. In fact, I’m convinced that besides Robin, I’m the only one he hasn’t shoved into a supply closet. Actually, I take that back. I would hope that he hasn’t screwed around with Gladys, the janitor, who is eighty years old, but you just never know with people.

“I was thinking something red and silky and I’ll pull my hair up off my neck. He won’t be able to resist,” Robin proclaimed with complete confidence.

Red silk? Sounded more like a cheap hooker color if you asked me. Turning back to my work, I blocked out the rest of their conversation. Hearing all of that brought me back to the day that he asked me out on a date. I had gone home wondering if I should have taken a chance and said yes. The attraction had definitely been there. The draw or lure, if you will, tried to suck me in to say ‘yes, but hearing all of this gossip was my affirmation that sticking to my guns was the better choice. We would have had our date, and I’m sure it would have been wonderful. But I had no doubt Turner Brooks would have moved on to the next unsuspecting lady the very next day. Which was fine. Clearly that was his MO. I’d never knock a man for his game. However, since that day, I have done everything I could to avoid bumping into him around the hospital grounds. I didn’t do it because I worried he wanted to ask me back out. No, I had a strong feeling he wasn’t the type to ask a second time. It was more because he made me feel uneasy. There had been something I saw in his face that day, a mischievous undertone. He may be a healer, but there was a flash in his eyes that told me he liked to teeter on the edge of danger. I, Annabelle Shaffer, didn’t do danger. Nope, I colored within the lines. That’s where safety lies. I knew if I ever slipped outside of those lines, I welcomed the possibility of hurt. Because of that, I made sure I stayed inside of my protective bubble is where I controlled my future. I liked it there.