Medically Speaking

Chapter 11

The gravel at the end of my driveway crackled under my tires as I pulled in, slowly edging past the cars lined up half in the grass in an attempt to give me room to get by. One in particular is half in the bushes and I have to snort--Oli can't park to save his life. I almost hope that Ramon came in with someone else tonight because there's no way he got out of that car without swimming through the bushes.

My garage door grumbled to life and I hadn't much more than climbed out of my car before a mountain sized man came lumbering towards me from my back porch. Ramon's tall--intimidatingly so. Paired with his darker complexion and Latino heritage, he could look like a man you didn't want to meet in a dark alley or in the courtroom under his cross-examining scrutiny. The second one rang true, but I knew that under any other circumstances, this man was about as big of a teddy bear as you could find.

"Hey, Joey," he greeted me, the barest hint of his lingering accent from a childhood growing up in Mexico peeking through. As he stepped into the light of the garage, I checked his arms and had to hide a smirk--there were scratches on his skin where his sleeves were rolled up. He's such a pushover where Oliver is involved. He probably didn't even make a comment about the bushes. "How was work?"

"Good," I reply on a short exhale. "Just glad to be home." And it was true. I love my job and I've enjoyed being around the Blackbourne-Toma family, but it's nice being home where I can just relax. I need some time away from pretty faces.

Ramon nods and opens the back door of my car, pulling out some of my bags without any hesitation or requests. Clicking my tongue, I shake my head and hold my arms out. He rolls his eyes and starts handing my things to me as he asks, "Do you at least have a day off tomorrow?"

The very notion of a day off seemed laughable. Brandon's surgery had taken over my last day off and before that, it had been Sunday. Today was Saturday. "No, I'm on call tomorrow. With the hospital in an upheaval, I'll be called in for sure. I'm supposed to be off on Monday, but I have a feeling that won't last long, either."

Brandon needs another surgery and Sean's supposed to be making the call on when that's going to be bright and early Monday morning. Which meant there was a very real chance that I would be called in bright and early on Monday morning. At least this team had the decency to bring me coffee.

"You work too hard," Ramon grunts as we start out across the drive and through the fence into the backyard.

Snorting, I retorted, "That's really rich coming from you of all people, Ramon. When was the last time you took more than a day off?" He doesn't respond and I click my tongue. "Uh huh, that's what I thought." Between his real job, his Academy jobs, and his pro bono work with juvenile offenders, Ramon isn't exactly the type to sit around with his feet up.

"You sound like your brother."

"I'm twelve minutes older. Oliver sounds like me."

The screen door squeals as Ramon pulls it open and I stand to the side so he can open the door into the kitchen. The sound of 80s rock and the delicious aroma of baked fish in wine sauce greet me and it's like a direct shot of serotonin. These family dinners started after I moved to Charleston as a way for me to get to know Oli's team better since we were going to be spending so much time together. They weren't easy at first, my resentment of them was too strong. I never blamed them for Oli's issues after he joined, but I hated that they stole my brother, one of my best friends, away from me. Now they were one of the most consistent parts of my life and I relied on them to keep me balanced.

Nothing on Earth is as humbling as a house full of brothers.

Jett's half hanging on the fridge door, staring into it like it holds all the secrets to life as he sings along--badly--to the song blasting from somebody's phone. "Grab what you need and then close the door," I say more out of habit than anything else. I'm fairly certain that Jett was raised in a barn.