DESTINED AFFECTION

TWENTY SEVEN

Late Friday afternoon, Camila drew Lauren aside in the hallway outside exam room seven, where Lauren had just finished ordering a battery of tests and x-rays on a forty-year-old construction worker who had arrived at his job site and discovered that he couldn't remember his name.

"I think we might have a problem," Camila said in a voice low enough that it wouldn't carry to the surrounding cubicles.

"What is it?"

"I have a twenty-five-year-old graduate student who presented with a two-day history of abdominal pain, nausea, and low-grade fever."

Lauren gave Camila a questioning look, because the symptoms were fairly common and could be almost anything. They probably saw ten cases of nonspecific belly pain every day. "Something unusual about it?"

Camila nodded. "Her liver is huge and exquisitely tender on exam, so I ran a liver profile. Her enzymes and bilirubin are all elevated. She's got hepatitis."

"Damn."

"That's not all," Camila said with concern. "If you remember, I saw a guy three days ago with acute hepatitis A. I asked the student where she'd been out to dinner in the last month or so, and then I called the first patient to see if they had some place in common."

"And they do?"

"Yep. The Mexican place over in East Falls." Camila sighed. "It could be a coincidence; it's a popular restaurant. But I think we need to report this to the public health department and probably the CDC."

"I agree," Lauren replied, thinking about the administrative nightmare to come and concluding that she might as well handle it all from the beginning. "I'll do it now. It might be absolutely nothing, but if we've got an epidemic in the making, we need to get the appropriate authorities on board as soon as possible."

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too."

Lauren glanced at her watch. "Oh, hell this is going to tie me up for God knows how long, and Phyllis has a date tonight. She was going to make dinner for Kyle and then leave as soon as I got home." She rubbed the bridge of her nose, thinking fast. "I'll call Perrie and Ally. They can watch Kyle—"

"I'll be off shift soon. I'll do it."

Lauren smiled. "Camila, you don't need to baby-sit. I appreciate it—"

"I want to." Camila's tone was even and firm, but her smile soft. "Please."

"If you're sure," Lauren said, still uncertain. Even though Kyle loved to spend time with Camila, it seemed like such an imposition. She and Camila were dating, that was true. But this—this simple act of shared responsibility spoke of something far more intimate. Dating. This is nice, what we have now. It doesn 't have to be more. But it already is, isn 't it?

Camila watched the internal struggle that Lauren thought she couldn't see. It seemed that each time something drew them closer, causing their lives to become more inextricably entwined, Lauren resisted. Even though she understood Lauren's hesitation, each time she witnessed it, each time she felt Lauren put distance between them, her frustration grew. "Lauren, for God's sake, when are you going to let me in?"

"Don't you think I have" Lauren's words were out before she had time to censor them. She glanced over her shoulder, checking to see that they were still alone. In a low voice, she continued, "Do you know what it took for me to be with you? To touch you? To care about you?"

"Yes, I know." Camila wanted to take her hand, but she couldn't, not only because of where they were, but because it wasn't comfort Lauren needed. And it wasn't what Camila needed to give. They both needed the truth. "I love you. Don't you know that by now?"