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  • Jenifer Jett

Post 28 ~Sunrise in the City

“What are you doing?” Carrie asked, irritated. “Making sure you’re not dead somewhere with your head in a jar.” Legacy said gruesomely shooting an irritated look at David. “What?” Carrie shot her glances back and forth, rapidly between Legacy and David. She was mortified, angry. “I’m sorry. Your phone has been sitting here and it's because you are sitting here. Somebody's imagination got the better of him,” Legacy sighed and thumped David in the abdominals and continued her apology, “I’m so sorry. I'll call you in the morning.” and then to David, “Are you satisfied now?” David shrugged, glanced once more at Carrie and Nathan’s intertwined fingers and then resigned, nodded at Nate as if to say “you win,” and turned to leave. Carrie took her time looking back at Nathan, not sure how to explain. “It’s good,” he assured her stroking her fingers with his thumb, “that you’ve got people who care about you like that.” Sighing loudly she agreed,” I’m sure you’re right.” She smiled sheepishly, grateful that he was so easy-going. “I missed something, though, didn’t I?” He asked, searching her eyes. “Yeah, but you didn’t miss much. I am sorry about that.” Before he could reply, his phone rang. “Not again? ” she whined. He winked at her. “No, this is me getting off the hook. Gimme one second.” And then into the phone, he said, ”Dorough…thank you, thank you… yeah, that’s fine... excellent…yeah, no, Roberts and Iyengar have my service and they are splitting Craythorne and Ettiene for coverage...nope,...No, that's okay, I'm going to have a conversation with Amy anyway before I get back... No, no offense to Gabe at all, I just want her and her instincts on anything unusual...yep...thanks, you too.” He hung up the phone, grinning. I am officially now on vacation. He held up his phone to her. “You hear that?” She didn’t hear anything. “No, what am supposed to hear?” “That sound, the one my phone is NOT making?” She was catching on. “Oh, that sound. Yeah, I hear it!” He exhaled slowly. “I can turn my ringer off and now, no one will be looking for either of us.” They sat, chatting easily for, well they didn’t know how long. Lavender’s shift ended and still, they made no move toward the door. A tiny sliver of light peeked over the city; a hint that morning was upon them. There they stayed. “So when did you know you were going to be this rock star surgeon? ” Carrie asked him, sipping cold coffee. “Ha, well, rock star is an exaggeration but I knew I was going to be a doctor when I was really little, like 6 or something. It's all I ever wanted to be.” "But, heart and lung transplants. That's not something a 6-year-old dreams up. How did that happen?" I was still in med school, doing my clinical clerkships and I was shadowing a guy, who eventually became a mentor to me. He was doing a transplant on a little boy. He actually woke me and yanked me into surgery. I only got to watch. I can't explain what it was like, watching him cradle this little heart in his hands, with such, reverence or something. I was fixated on his hands, he was like an artist. You know what I mean, like how a painter just picks up a brush and makes brilliance look so simple and fluid? I wanted my hands to be like those hands." His eyes darted around and he was visibly excited. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I do” “Yeah, it was like that.," he said, nearly breathless. "I mean, yeah, I had all these smarts in my head, I breezed through my MCATs but that night was when I made the connection that medicine is a dash of what you know and a whole lot of...other stuff." He was laughing and blushing now from the admission." "So, what then? he had this little heart in his hands." She leaned in expectant, like a child listening to a thrilling story. He smiled that bright, toothy smile. "It was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen. So, once the heart is in, it takes a few seconds but it feels like forever. If it goes well which usually it does, the new heart it flutters a little, turns pink, and starts to beat. Sometimes you have to help it out a little.," he admitted. "I witnessed this tiny and quiet little heart," he cupped his hands to show her how small it had been, "come to life right in front me. And I got this high that you can't get from any drug. It's that same feeling every single time. From that second, there was nothing else I could have done with my life.” He was beaming, glowing, talking with his hands. He rarely shared this with anyone. It had been one of the most miraculous moments of his life and it was disappointing when someone didn't get that. But tonight, his mind wasn't his own. He was saying things and doing things that he would never have had the courage to do on his own. It was as if something much bigger than either of them, was at work here. She said nothing nor did she attempt to utter a sound. She didn't have to. He knew her. It was impossible, of course, but he saw her; her heart, her mind. She was brave and capable, delicate and unsure. And he wanted her, all of her. He saw her swallow hard and her breath caught. Her lip quivered as she lowered her eyes. His mouth and tongue were practically willing him to take her in, to lose himself in her. But the hours, the coffee, and the starchy food had taken their toll. He had that morning after, socks-on-your-teeth feeling. Instead, Nathan leaned in and nuzzled her face and then, opted to lay a lingering kiss on her brow. Carrie merged her body into him, grazing his neck with her face and breathed him in. She could actually hear her own pulse pounding in her throat. From the second she had knocked into that easel, the signs had been flashing in bright neons. She had seen them, had understood that he was someone special. But, at that exact moment, there, over cold coffee, under the florescent lights, just before dawn, Carrie consciously and deliberately embraced what was now, undeniable. Nathan Dorough had changed her life. Nathan laced his arms around her, gently smoothing her hair. "It's morning," he whispered, a tremble in his voice. "I should get you home."

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