The Unexpected Hero. Rachel Lee

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      “Deal. A little artery-hardening food is what I need right now.” Then, with a nod, he left.

      

      The sun was already well up and growing hot when Krissie left the hospital shortly after seven. Dressed again in her street clothes, carrying her small backpack, she walked across the pavement to her car. Her eyes felt gritty, a sure sign she needed some sleep, but she’d toughed this out before countless times. Impatiently, she ran her fingers through her short, streaked hair.

      As she started to pull out of the parking lot, a small wave of panic washed over her and she almost turned for home rather than downtown and Maude’s diner.

      This was purely professional, she told herself. Two colleagues getting together to eat and unwind a bit before going home to bed. There was nothing to be afraid of.

      But her recently defunct relationship had left its own set of scars, among them her fear and dislike of controlling men. That little outburst from David last night about his expectations of her as a nurse had been controlling. She still squirmed a little when she thought about it, but reminded herself that he hadn’t behaved that way during their encounters the rest of the night. Still, he had the potential to become a problem of the kind she had just shucked.

      But only if she let him, she reminded herself. Keep it professional, keep it purely social and don’t let him get close. That was a recipe for avoiding trouble, one she intended to follow.

      Feeling more comfortable about it, she found a parking space near Maude’s and walked the rest of the way to the diner. For some reason, Maude had added a Café sign to her window, even though the neon above announced City Diner. Not that it mattered, she supposed. Everyone still called it Maude’s, or Maude’s Diner.

      Inside, wonderful aromas filled the air, and the clanking of flatware and the clatter of crockery joined the hum of early-morning conversation. Like many such places, the early-morning weekday crowd was composed mostly of older people, men, women and couples, who had no need to think about getting ready to go to work. Later in the day, the composition would change, first with the lunch crowd, then the dinner crowd.

      David stood out: a man in his prime, maybe around forty, with dark hair that didn’t yet show a dash of gray. In his dark blue polo shirt and khaki slacks, he looked lithe and fit. He’d taken a table near the window and already had a cup of coffee in front of him. He started to get up as she approached, but she waved him back into his seat and then slid onto the vinyl-covered chair facing him.

      Before she had a chance to say a word, a cup slammed onto the table in front of her and started to fill with coffee. She looked up and saw Maude’s daughter, Mabel; the younger woman was surely a clone of her mother.

      “Good to see you back, Krissie,” Mable said as she topped off the mugs. “Menu? Or do you know what you want?”

      Krissie knew better than to ask for anything unusual or healthful. This wasn’t a place for healthful eating. “Two-egg onion omelet and rye toast, please.”

      Mabel nodded, then looked at David. “The usual?” “Please. With some extra hash browns.” “Got it.” Mabel sort of smiled and walked away, coffee carafe in hand.

      Krissie smiled. “You’re going for broke.” “The hash browns, you mean? Yeah. I need every calorie I can get. I still have office hours, starting at nine.”

      “You should be catching a nap then.”

      “I couldn’t sleep right now.”

      She looked down at her coffee, then across at him again. “I would have thought you’d have learned to sleep anytime, anywhere.”

      “Because of being military?” He shrugged. “That used to be easier. You might not understand this yet, I don’t know. But the losses are harder now. Maybe because the patients aren’t usually in such a bad state.”

      Krissie nodded slowly. “I guess I can see that.”

      “Maybe you won’t feel that way. I hope not.”

      “Too early to tell. So what’s your background?”

      He sipped his coffee as if buying time to consider what he should say.

      “Oh, come on,” she prodded. “You read my jacket. Fair’s fair.”

      At that, he smiled. “Okay. I enlisted at eighteen, became a medic in time for Desert Storm. Bad enough, but I was still on fire with the desire to be able to do more to help, so eventually I went to college, got admitted to medical school. The army picked up the tab on my medical training in return for a six-year commitment. It was mostly okay. Until Iraq.”

      “Yeah.”

      “Same for you?”

      She shook her head, biting her upper lip. “Not quite. I went to nursing school on scholarship and enlisted after I got my B.S. in nursing. The navy trained me to be a nurse practitioner, and the next thing I knew, I was in Asia on the USS Hope after the tsunami.”

      “My God, that must have been awful.”

      “Not my favorite memory. But after that, I was attached to the Marine Corps and served in Iraq.”

      “In the field,” he said as if it weren’t a question.

      “In the field,” she agreed. “Well, at bases with field hospitals.”

      “Yeah, the ones they pretend aren’t at the front line.”

      She lifted her gaze and saw understanding there. A wealth of understanding. “There is no front line.”

      He nodded. “Exactly.”

      Mabel returned and slapped their plates down in front of them. Krissie stared at hers, certain there had to be more than two eggs in that omelet. Plus there were hash browns she hadn’t asked for and four slices of rye toast.

      David must have read her expression. He laughed. “I think Maude thinks you’re too thin.”

      “Maude thinks everyone is too thin.”

      Krissie glanced toward the window and caught sight of her reflection. She was a little under her fighting weight, and worse, she suddenly realized that the blond streaks in her light brown hair were growing out to the point that they no longer looked good. She experienced a moment of self-consciousness, then quickly dismissed it. She’d only applied those streaks because Alvin had insisted on it. He’d wanted her to go completely blond, but at least she’d managed to draw that line. Of course, with Al, it was his way or the highway. It had taken a while, but she’d finally chosen the highway.

      Whatever had possessed her to stay for so long?

      “Penny for your thoughts?”

      David’s voice drew her back, and she looked at him. “Nothing,” she said. “Just a memory.”

      “And thoughts are worth a lot more than a penny these days.”

      David could be charming, СКАЧАТЬ