Until Then

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Quinn

I wake up to the sound of my alarm ringing. I find myself still on the couch and the TV keeping me company. I'm wrapped up in my blanket and it's the first morning in a long time I can't recall waking up throughout the night. I should feel rested, but I'm still tired. It's not unusual for me to be run down as I near my day off and given that I have two very sick children I'm looking after during the day, I can only imagine how hard it is going to hit me when it's time to make their beds and welcome in a new patient.

I stretch and stand up, heading to the bathroom to get ready for work. I decide I'm going to bring in my special water bottle today that I use when I've been forgetting to drink enough water. It's a dead give-away when my urine is darker than usual. Maybe not everyone looks at things like that, but being a nurse makes me very aware of the small changes in bodily functions. Sexy, I know.

I'm not high maintenance. I'm showered, dressed and leaving my apartment thirty minutes later. I walk the small distance to the hospital, counting that as my daily exercise because I'm far too tired after work to fit anything else in. Today I'm feeling silly as I search every face for the Marine that has been consuming my thoughts all morning. I wish I had gotten a better look so I could recall exactly where I would have known him from. Instead, I'm searching strangers' faces and hoping I can put my finger on it soon before I drive myself insane.

I've been on my own for a while now. Maybe I'm just getting lonely and letting my heart imagine what it would be like to have a boyfriend that knows a thing or two about respect and service to others. I press the button on the street signal so I can safely cross the street and wait for the light to change. I don't blame Spencer for our break-up, we were young—we're still young. This is the time when we are supposed to be selfish and go out into the world to build the life we want for ourselves.

I'm not sure why I'm wired differently then many other people my age, but I always have been. Even in elementary school I was different. I fix people. It doesn't matter if they are younger or older than me; I'm drawn to the broken and the lost. My grandma used to tell me it was because I have a strong intuition. She loved that I was a kind, thoughtful child, but she used to warn me that my "old soul" would be vulnerable to people who abuse other people and that I was at risk for being run down if I never took time to also take care of myself.

The light changes and I cross the street, cutting across the dark green grass when I reach the hospital. Spencer hated the world of medicine. He had a fear of hospitals since he had spent a lot of time in one as a child. Maybe that's why I was drawn to him in the first place. He was child-like and wounded from a childhood battle with leukemia.

Spencer and I met while I was in nursing school. He was taking a course in video game development on campus and I loved the way he was always drawing out in the courtyard. Later that habit of drawing instead of engaging in anything that furthered his growing up would become an issue, but at the time I had found it enduring and interesting. I'd been with him for two years before I realized we weren't going to make it. Still, I wasn't the one to call it off. I'm not a quitter and I would have probably stayed with him forever trying to fix "us" and make it work.

Ernie one of many maintenance workers is washing the large glass doors at the entrance of the hospital when I approach. "Hey, Ernie. How's Theresa doing?" His wife had been in a small accident earlier this week and I'd seen them in the ER on my way up to the third floor.

"Much better, Quinn. Thanks for asking. She'll be getting a hard cast when the swelling goes down. We have an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon later today as a follow up." He wipes the squeegee and turns to swipe it down the glass again. "How about you? Did you ever get over to that bakery Theresa told you about?"

"I'm good. I haven't had a chance to drop by the bakery yet. I'm planning on checking it out on my day off. She told me they have some tables where you can hang out and eat the cupcakes, so I thought I might take one of my books I've been wanting to read and make an afternoon of it." I've known Ernie and his wife since my first week at work. She works in the cafeteria and he is our best maintenance man, always working hard to keep this place nice. They are older than me by a few years, but I love hearing about their little family.

"Don't work so hard," he jokes as he dips the spongy end into the bucket of soapy water.

"You don't either," I tell him. I look up and into the clean glass, admiring his work when my eyes focus on the image reflected on its surface. It's the Marine again. This time even though I'm dying to turn around and find him in person, I'm aware that maybe he's a figment of my imagination. I don't want to take a chance that he won't be there. Ernie continues cleaning and chatting about how much his daughter loves her new daycare. I nod my head and listen, but the whole time I studying the man in the crisp uniform watching me.

He is tall, his muscular build showcased perfectly in the form-fitting shirt. His arms are big, pulling the material around them tight and his hat sits proudly on his head the way Marines wear them, not pulled down low over his eyes like skater boys or baseball players. It's a look that draws attention, and believe me he has all of mine. I can't see his eye color and of course the hair that is visible from beneath his hat is too short to tell the color in the transparent image reflecting in the glass.

Ernie picks up his bucket and takes a step away from the glass. His motion activates the automatic doors and they slide open, erasing the Marine from my view. I feel a twinge of disappointment in my heart when the shiny surface is gone and in its place is the busy lobby of the hospital. There are tons of people inside already, but none of them are Marines. I turn my head around and look behind me just to be sure, but as I suspected there is no one there.

"Have a good day, Quinn." Ernie offers a small wave and I return it.

"You too. Send Theresa my love and let me know if you guys need anything." I watch him hop into his cart and drive away, right through the space where the Marine would have been standing if he weren't only a figment of my imagination. The entire walk up to my floor my mind is racing. He feels familiar to me and yet I don't recognize him at all.

I set my water bottle down behind the counter and put away my purse. Then I take the small walk over to the list of patients and the nurses assigned to each. I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath, knowing today is day one of being afraid that my tiny friends' names will be replaced with unfamiliar ones. I feel a sharp pain in my stomach and rub it absently until I gather the courage to open my eyes and read the list. It takes a minute to convince myself that keeping them closed isn't going to change the fact that the day that they pass is coming. I open my eyes and sigh with relief when I see that there are no empty beds or new patients. Then I smile because I have these little souls for just a bit longer.

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