Wrong Number [EXCERPT]

Chapter Two

Carson stared at his phone screen, thumb hovering over the letters, unsure of what to say. He didn't know this girl, and he'd done his duty checking to make sure she'd made it home unscathed. Did he really want to dive down this rabbit hole? She seemed like she could use someone to talk to. The question was, was it really his responsibility to be that person?

"Doctor Wessex, your daughter is on line two," Patricia said, leaning in the doorway of his small office. "Do you want me to tell her you're on your way? You really should have been gone by now."

He scrubbed his hands down his face and stifled a yawn. "Yes, would you mind? I texted her, but I forgot that her phone is still at the repair shop."

"A seventeen-year-old without her cell phone!" Patricia gasped, putting a hand to her chest in mock outrage. "The humanity!"

He chuckled, shoving his own into the pocket of his lab coat. "Yes, her life is infinitely more difficult than everyone else's."

"I'll let her know," Patricia replied with a little salute. "Seriously though, go home. Doctor Pretentious is already here and if you get caught in conversation you'll be stuck here until your next shift."

Carson shook his head at the mischief twinkling in her eyes. "You really shouldn't call him that," he scolded, but he was already planning his escape route to make it out unseen. The day shift emergency doctor, Jim Bowers, was so high on himself he was painful to talk to.

"He's in room four, scurry out now!" Patricia waved her hand above her head and disappeared into the hallway. Barely a second later, she popped back with a little smirk. "Also, Happy Valentine's Day."

Carson groaned, and she tittered as she headed off down the hallway. As he slipped into his jacket, he unlocked his phone one more time, staring at the girl's message. Instead of answering it, he opened his browser and searched up a local florist.

He scrolled through a few arrangements, deciding on a simple bouquet of a dozen crimson roses. After entering all of his credit card information and the delivery address, it prompted him to add a message to the card.

Happy Valentine's Day, he typed out, and pursed his lips for a moment. He never quite knew what to say to her, these days. He sighed, and signed it, Your Loving Husband.

"I wouldn't worry too much, Mrs. Harper, your son will be just fine." Carson offered the distraught mother a smile. "I'll send the nurse in with something to settle his stomach so that he can sleep, and you just make sure he gets lots of rest and fluids at home. Of course, if his situation changes or you're concerned, please don't hesitate to give us a call, okay?"

Mrs. Harper nodded, sitting down next to the bed holding her pale son. "Thank you," she said hoarsely. "And thank you, for seeing me. I imagine nobody wants to be working on Valentine's Day."

Instead of rolling his eyes, Carson gave her a soft smile. That poker face that doctors and nurses had to master when speaking to patients.

"I'd imagine it's better than having a sick child on Valentine's Day," he said gently, and took his leave. He set his clipboard at the nurse's station and slid it over to Patricia.