My Bad Boy Doctor

17

Val comes over the moment her shift is over, and our tiny kitchen is full between Dad, Blake, her and myself. I've prepared garlic chicken and stir-fried broccoli and onion. It's not elaborate, but it's something I can eat, and everyone digs in with gusto. As we all sit together, Blake gets on well with Dad and Val, who all joke and ask questions between congratulating me on my full manuscript request.

At first, Val did the same thing as Dad, promising to castrate Blake if he hurts me. And that was just a warm-up. She asks dozens of questions -- where is he from, does he have a prison record, and did he whoop his friend's ass for insulting me at the bar? I kick her under the table and shoot a pointed glare in her direction after the jail question. She offers an indifferent shrug, but lays off and changes the subject.

Stabbing her fork into a piece of broccoli, she says, "So, Kelly told me you both had Covid. Are you feeling better?"

Blake nods. He didn't crack under her scrutinization, taking all of her barbs in stride, as he'd done with Dad. His smile is relaxed, and his hand rests on my thigh as he answers. "Mostly. The tests came back negative, and we quarantined for another two weeks afterward, but my stamina is completely gone. I ran a quarter of a mile the other day, and it winded me as if I haven't exercised in years."

I know he's understating the severity of the illness. He was in bed for days, and even after the fever broke, his chest rattled enough to rival a chain-smoker. He told me that there is still so much the doctors don't know about the lingering effects of the virus, and it could be months or possibly years before we see the full extent of the repercussions. The CDC is studying it and putting out notifications as they receive more information, and what scares me is what it seems to do to a person's mental health. Even though I was asymptomatic, I worry about how it could me when I already struggle with depression and anxiety.

Val chews her food and swallows before saying, "I'm sorry to hear that. I suppose the bright side is that you didn't need to be treated at the hospital. I'm losing count of the patients at work who have died from it. You should consider yourself lucky."

I reach for her hand and squeeze it. It's in Val's nature to be happy and optimistic, and she rarely complains. I know her though. She cries over animal shelter commercials and slams on the breaks to avoid hitting wild hares and birds. She works around death and sickness, yet throws all of her energy into healing and making others more comfortable. I can't imagine what it's like to watch these people fight for their lives. Even though she displays a calm demeanor on the outside, I see the pain in her eyes. "I don't know how you do it. I hope people appreciate your effort."

She lifts a shoulder and sighs. "Most do, but the families act like assholes a lot of the time. We won't let them in, we don't tell them anything that would violate HIPAA laws, or we're just incompetent. You name it, and they're complaining. I've seen people come in and spit on the staff. It's awful."

"They do that at the Urgent Care too," Blake agrees, shaking his head. "We do our best to treat people, but everyone is just angry. They need someone to blame, and usually it's medical workers. Everything seems to be our fault."

Ugh. Their stories remind me of why I hate people so much. Damned if you do, dammed if you don't, but I'm a firm believer the customer is not always right. It's a pathetic exscuse to treat others like shit, and businesses bow down to them, lest they offend someone. This is exactly why I can't work. The social anxiety would give me an early heart attack before I'm thirty.

I link hands with Blake under the table. "I'm sorry."

His lips curve into a smirk. "Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything to us."

Technically, I called him an asshole after he mistakenly mispronounced my last name as Wanker. My mouth twitches as I try to stifle a giggle. "I mean, there was that visit to the Urgent Care back in June. I could have been a bit nicer."