When Love Walks

Chapter One

Elora

I open my eyes to a brightened bedroom. It’s a gloriously sunny day. The sunshine streaks through the windows as a welcome wake up call, and I yawn and stretch, feeling especially spry this morning. It’s moving day. I glance over at Logan, who’s still asleep. He looks so relaxed and carefree. I giggle quietly as I admire him. Tentatively, I reach out and gently run my fingers through his unruly, brown hair. He stirs, so I stop. Once he settles back into sleep, I graze his stubbly cheek with my fingers. He makes a funny face, and I have to cover my mouth to stifle my snicker. I could do this all day. I reach over to touch his cheek again, when my wrist is quickly snared by his hand. I yelp in surprise.

What do you think you’re doing? he says with a sleepy smirk.

I’m admiring you while you sleep, I say, not even trying to hide my mischievous grin.

He brings my hand to his lips, kisses the back of it, then places it on his bare chest, covering it with his.

That’s not really fair, you know. If I’m asleep, I can’t repay the favor. His fingers find their way around mine, as we entwine them. Suddenly, a realization comes across his face. It’s moving day, he says as he grins from ear to ear. His excitement warms my heart, and I know I made the right decision.

Yes, it is. Are you ready for some hard labor?

"I’ve been ready for this hard labor for at least a year and a half. His broad smile is infectious, as I mirror his expression. I’m glad I finally talked you into it."

I snort.

More like badgered me until I caved. His mouth twists. What? I would've agreed eventually. I just wanted to be sure you were the one.

And am I the one? he says, as he kisses my neck.

I pause before giving my answer and he stills. I want to make him sweat, but I’m not that good an actress, so my broad grin leaves gaping holes in my plan.

I’m still debating. I’ll let you know.

He shakes his head, playfully admonishing me, then dives back down toward my neck where he begins growling and tickling me.

You’re lucky I love you, he says after ending his tiny torture session.

Yes, I am. I smile and kiss him. What time is your brother coming over to help?

He looks at the clock.

I think I told him to be here at ten, but since he’s been dating Jenna, he seems to have lost the concept of time. I giggle, understanding how being with the one you love can cause that side effect.

Well, we should get up and get ready then. I pull back the covers on my side and start to sit up.

Oh, no you don’t, he says while grabbing me around the waist and pulling me into him. We have something to do first. I squeal and giggle as he, in one smooth motion, flips me onto my back then straddles me, pinning my hands down on either side of my head. He gazes lovingly down at my grinning face. I can’t wait to do this with you every morning. Then, he leans down and plants a tender kiss on my lips. My heart melts at his sentiment, and I’m lost to his touch.

Logan

Where does this box go? I ask while carrying the cumbersome load. With her hand on her chin, she looks around.

I think that one goes in here, she says, pointing to the living room. I walk in and set it next to the other dozen boxes designated for the same room. She’s deep in thought, with her back to me, when I sneak up on her. She squeals in surprise, as my arms engulf her from behind.

"I think I know where this one goes…in the bedroom," I say with devious intent. She turns in my arms, lacing her fingers behind my head, and smiles coyly.

Oh, really, Mr. Turner? I smile and nod slowly. Well, we have a lot more boxes and things that need to be moved in, before I can let myself be distracted by the likes of you. She giggles at my defeated expression, then kisses the tip of my nose as if to console me. There, there. We’re almost done. I release her, knowing that the longer it takes to move her things into my house, the longer I’ll have to wait for the reward for my efforts.

Fine, I’ll keep working, but with all of your stuff, it’s really a good thing my house is so big. Her mouth pops open and soon, a nearby pillow gets chucked at me. I grin as I dodge it, then walk back out to the moving truck. Michael is heading toward the front door with another box in hand and, as he passes me, he purposely knocks up against my shoulder.

Hey, bro, you going to the game tonight? I still have that extra ticket, he says.

I don’t know. I’d really like to get Elora settled in. We’ll most likely be at it all night. He smirks and, knowing how his perverted mind works, I feel the need to clarify. Unpacking boxes.

Sure, sure. He winks. Well, I’m leaving at six, so you have until then to decide.

Okay. I’ll let you know.

What will you let him know? Elora asks as she walks out onto the front porch.

Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just some minor league baseball game Michael has tickets to.

So, go if you want to. I’ll be fine unpacking by myself.

I scoff.

I don’t want to leave you alone on your very first official night here, I say, wrapping one arm around her shoulders then, kissing her temple.

Logan, we’ll have plenty of nights to be together here. I wouldn’t want you to give up your guys’ night out for me.

I’m not exactly giving it up. I’m not sure I even want to go.

"Yeah. He wants to unpack boxes with you," Michael says, putting air quotes around the words.

I shoot him a death stare but hear Elora snicker.

Look, it’s fine with me either way. If you want to go have fun with your brother, go ahead. I’ll just be sitting around here trying to figure out which drawer to put my panties in. She smirks, then winks. I abruptly turn to Michael.

I’m out. If you need me, I’ll be helping Elora with her panties, I say, grinning like a loon. Michael rolls his eyes and smiles.

I can’t say I blame you.

***

As I finally finish unloading the last of the boxes, I find Elora with her eyes closed, sitting on the couch. I plop down beside her and prop my legs up on the coffee table.

Are you tired? I ask. She nods.

It’s overwhelming—the amount of stuff you can accumulate over the years. Where on earth are we going to put it all? she says, as she surveys the dozens of boxes in front of us. I place a reassuring hand on her thigh.

We’ll find room. Besides, that’s what basements are for. She glances at me as her mouth twists. I clear my throat. I mean, for my bachelor pad décor, I clarify. She smiles and looks back at the piles.

I guess. She sighs, defeated. Where do we start?

How about if we start tomorrow? I say, kissing her temple. Just then, the doorbell rings. She looks at me quizzically.

Who’s that?

I stand and walk toward the door.

It’s our dinner, I say with a smile. She cocks her head to the side as if she didn’t hear me correctly. Opening the door, a young man, carrying a large white paper bag, stands before me.

Delivery for Mr. Turner, he says, as he holds out the package.

Thank you. I pull out my wallet and hand the guy some cash. Keep the change.

Thank you, Sir, he says with a grin.

I close the door and turn to see Elora walking toward me.

What did you do?

I knew you’d be tired from moving today, and I didn’t want you to feel obligated to cook, so I ordered us dinner from that new restaurant down the street. I set the bag on the kitchen counter, then turn around just as she snakes her arms around my waist.

How thoughtful, she says, and my arms find their way around her as well. Where did you come from? Her appreciative expression warms my heart. I love to see her happy.

Apparently, Mars.

She laughs and lays her head on my chest.

Thank you. This is perfect.

I rest my chin on the top of her head and exhale contently. I’ve never been more happy to be alive.

***

So, when do you start your new job? I ask after taking another sip of wine. We’re both sitting on the floor, in the living room, eating our meal. Elora thought it would be more cozy, and I couldn’t agree more.

Not soon enough, she says. I just hope I’m ready for all that the ER has to offer.

It’s going to be hectic.

I know.

You’re going to be frustrated more times than not.

I know that too, but a job is a job, and until something less stressful comes my way, I’ll take it.

Reassuringly, I place my hand on her knee.

You’re going to be great. You’ll see. I wink at her, and she smiles slightly.

How can you be so sure?

Well, you had to put up with my grouchy ass for all that time when you were my home health aide. Surely anything would pale in comparison. She laughs, a little too loudly, as my words probably ring true in her mind.

"You can say that again!" she says, then nudges me with her elbow. I pretend to be wounded, but she just rolls her eyes and giggles.

I love you. You always know what to say.

Pff! Not always, but I’d do anything to see you smile.

She smiles shyly at me, so I smile back. Her smile then turns into a cheesy grin, which I mimic, and she laughs. She crosses her eyes and sucks in her cheeks, so I puff out my cheeks and cup my hands on either side of my face, moving them back and forth, pretending to have gills. Then, she pokes out her tongue and puts her thumbs into her ears, wiggling her fingers erratically. I suddenly launch myself at her, tackling her onto the carpeted floor. Her long, brown hair splays out around her as she squeals and giggles, having not seen it coming. I lie on top of her, pinning her wrists down on either side of her head.

Oh, Miss Foster, your delectable tongue was too much of an invitation, I say, raising my eyebrows twice. My whimsical expression then turns lustful. I’ve just figured out what I want for dessert. My mouth heads straight for her neck, where I begin a slow, torturous seduction, kissing and sucking my way to the other side. At first she giggles, clamping down on my invasion, but soon, her body’s natural instincts kick in, and she tilts her head back to give me better access. A soft moan escapes her lips, which turns up my desire, and I continue my advances.

Suddenly, a commotion at the door startles both of us, and I’m forced to stop my seduction and release her hands to look in the direction of the noise.

Oops. Sorry, guys, Michael says apologetically, as he enters through the front door.

For God’s sake, he doesn’t even live here anymore, and he’s still being a cock block.

Michael, what the hell are you doing here? I snap, irritated at the disruption. I feel Elora pat my shoulder, silently telling me to take it easy on him.

I, um, forgot something in the basement. I’ll be gone in a minute. He attempts to divert his eyes, as he passes us on his way to get it.

As I lay my forehead on Elora’s shoulder and groan, I hear a soft giggle, so I look up. Her face splitting grin is not what I expected to see.

What? I ask, and she giggles again. It’s not funny. He's an asshole. But, she laughs again. I scoff at her. How can this be funny? Soon, her amusement causes a small grin appear on my face. Soon after its appearance, a smile arrives. Before I know why, I’m laughing right along with her as I shake my head at the absurdity of it all. It’s still not funny.

Yes, it is. Someday, we’ll look back at this moment and be glad for it, she says.

"That is absolutely never going to happen," I insist, but even as I say it, I know that any time spent with my girl, even times that are interrupted by an inconsiderate buffoon, are memories I hope will never fade.

Chapter 2

Elora

As I enter through the sliding glass doors of Edwards Memorial Hospital, I’m met with the hustle and bustle of the staff walking briskly back and forth, and restless patients sitting in chairs, waiting to be seen. The room is crowded, well at least I think it is. I wouldn’t really know, since this is the first time I’ve stepped foot inside. I've never even been here as a patient. The first thing that hits me is the smell. The heavy odor of disinfectant looms large, but when you’re talking about an ER, I guess that’s a good thing. The overhead PA system calls out for some doctor, whose name I didn’t catch, and the occasional cries from a sick child, pierce my ear drums. I glance around, searching for the correct desk to inquire about where I’m supposed to go. My eyes land on a very bored looking receptionist, so I decide to approach her. I clear my throat.

Excuse me—

Are you Sandra Davis? she asks in a monotone voice.

Um…no, but—

"Then I can't talk to you right now. Sandra Davis?" She screams louder this time, startling me in the process, and soon, I see a young woman stand and begin walking over.

You don’t understand. I’m—

If you’re not Sandra Davis, you'll have to wait your turn like everyone else. Her voice is forceful, and I shrivel under her intense stare. Finally, Miss Davis sits in the chair in front of the receptionist, blocking me from speaking to the ill-tempered woman. I glance around the room, hoping to find another employee who can help me. There are none. Damn it. You’d think, for an urban hospital, they’d have more help. I take a step back and hope to catch the receptionist when she's in between patients.

Miss Foster? a man asks, as he approaches me from behind.

Yes, I reply as I turn to face him. A tall man in a doctor’s coat smiles warmly and extends his hand for me to shake. I’m taken aback by his dashing, bright white smile, complete with perfectly styled dark brown hair. I look down and take his proffered hand.

Good morning. I’m Dr. Jason Scott. Lydia, I mean, nurse Kane has been looking for you. I was on my way in this direction and I told her I’d keep an eye out for you. He winks.

Nurse Kane?

Yes. The charge nurse and your supervisor.

Oh. Right. I forgot her name. I laugh uneasily.

Exactly why did I admit that? I should just shut my mouth now.

If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to her. I give him an awkward smile, but follow him. So, this your first day. I nod. Don’t be nervous. I’m sure you’ll fit right in here with us. You’re working in the ER, right? I nod again. I’m on a Peds consult right now, but from the look of it, I might be down here a while. He gestures toward the packed waiting room, filled mostly with children. We might see each other often today. He smiles as if that’s a good thing for him.

Oh. I chuckle. Well, I apologize in advance then.

What the hell is wrong with me?

He laughs.

No need. I think you’ll find we’re all human beings first—doctors and nurses second. You'll be just fine. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask any one of us. We have a great staff. We finally arrive in front of a nurses’s station when he stops. Well, have a good shift. He smiles at me again, and for some reason, I feel a little more at ease. I can’t explain it, other than to say he is very welcoming.

Thank you…for finding me…and for the pep talk.

He smiles and nods just before disappearing through a set of doors.

Well, at least I have one person who seems to like me.

Lora Foster? I hear someone behind me ask. I turn around to see an older woman in a cartoon scrub top. She’s short and very thin, but her arms are crossed and she’s scowling at me.

Oh boy.

I clear my throat.

"It’s Elora, actually, but yes. You must be—" I extend my hand, but she just looks at it, leaving it hang in midair.

I don’t need to shake your hand…especially since you’ve just walked out of the ER waiting room. Do you know how many germs are crawling over them right now?

I swallow and look down at my hand, then I retract it, nonchalantly wiping it on my shirt.

S—sorry.

She scans me from head to toe, and I can’t help but feel as though I’m being scrutinized. I fidget nervously.

Fresh out of school, huh? I nod. Well, you’ll have a lot to learn. Come with me, she says as she begins moving toward the door that Dr. Scott just went through. We walk toward an office, and I follow her inside. She digs through some files then hands me a card on a lanyard and some paperwork. "This is your badge to get into the doors that say authorized personnel only, and it’s also your time card. You can clock in five minutes before your shift or five minutes after, but only within those parameters. Got it? I nod quickly, afraid that if I don’t, I might just get ten lashings with a tongue depressor. What's the matter, don’t you speak?" she adds.

Yes, ma’am. I do.

Good, she says. Subtle gestures like nodding and shaking your head are not very useful in this department, unless you’ve got a squeamish patient. Understand?

Yes.

Let’s get you punched in then.

After I've been shown around the area, we round the corner and bump, almost literally, into a gurney carrying a very robust man.

I’m telling you, Marcy, I’m fine. It was hot, and I fell, the man says. Can I just go home?

Harry, just let the nice doctors examine you. You cut your leg when you fell. I’m sure it won't take long, his wife replies.

"Yeah right; they don't know anything. That’s why they call it practicing medicine."

Nurse Kane turns to me and smirks.

There's your first patient. After you assess his wounds, you can check on the patient in trauma three. She has a chemical burn, she says, as she leads me to the next room. The patient in here is vomiting.

I’m taking care of all of them? I say meekly, but trying not to sound frightened.

"Yes. This is nothing. You can handle it. If you really need me… She looks over the rim of her glasses at me, I suppose you can track me down." Her expression is vaguely disappointed, and I know I don’t want to need her.

I’ll be fine, I say with a confident smile, even though I’m anything but.

Good morning, I say as I enter trauma one. What’s brings you in today? I walk over to wash my hands, and put on sterile gloves.

Hey, Doc. My wife says I passed out, but she exaggerates. I just wanna get outta here.

He was mowing the lawn, when he just fell over on top of the mower. I poured water on him to wake him up. That’s when I noticed the blood, she says with an eye roll.

Well, Mr… I have to look through his chart to find his name, Carter. I’m a nurse. How about we have a look at your leg, shall we? I walk over to his bedside and unwrap the make-shift bandage to find a gaping wound. I turn my head quickly at the site.

How bad is it? his wife asks.

Um, not bad, I say, lying through my gritted teeth. I want to vomit, but I manage to hold myself together long enough to think straight. It looks like you’ll need some stitches though. I see here that you’re diabetic. May I ask what insulin you take normally? His wife pulls out a piece of paper with a list of medicines handwritten on it. Suspecting low insulin levels, I decide on a course of action. This is perfect. I’m going to test his blood sugar, then we’ll get him stitched up.

Just as I’m about to turn around, a man comes into the room.

Excuse me, but how much longer? My daughter is throwing up all over the place, says a frantic man.

Um, okay. Let me get you something she can vomit into. I then look at Mr. Carter. I’ll be right back. I subtly push the man out of Mr. Carter’s room, and follow him into trauma five. As I walk in, I’m instantly hit with a horrific, sour smelling odor. I bite my lip and hold my breath. Walking over to a nearby cabinet, I search quickly, hoping to God I find what I’m looking for. Finally, after her dry heaves have stopped, I hand the young girl a container, telling her father to have her finish vomiting into it.

I then walk into the hallway, intending to go back to trauma one, but inadvertently walk into number three.

The burns on this patient’s arm are still wrapped in gauze, and now I’m wondering which patient should take precedence: diabetic guy with leg wounds, or burn lady. I decide to take a look.

Hello. My name is Elora, and I’ll be your nurse today. Let me take a look at that. After assessing the wound, I declare that this patient might need me more urgently, so I gather the supplies I need to debride the wound and start an IV. Unfortunately, on my way back to her, Mr. Carter’s wife comes out looking for me.

Are you coming back in?

Uh, yes. I’ll be in shortly. I continue walking to burn lady, when I feel someone following me. I turn around. Yes?

He's being a real ass, you know? Can you please make it quick? We have things to do, Mrs. Carter says.

I’m doing the best I can. I’ll be back soon.

I’m finally able to break away, when I enter another room, but again, I’m in the wrong spot, and the smell of vomit invades my nostrils again. Heh. Sorry. Wrong room. I’ll be with you in a moment though.

Finally getting to the correct room, I set up for the IV.

What are you going to do with that? the patient asks.

You’ll need hydration. I’m going to start a drip.

No, you’re not. I hate needles.

I close my eyes and take in a calming breath.

Lucy, quit being a big baby, the man next to her says. It’s just a needle.

I don’t need it. She looks at me with a concerned expression. Can’t you just let me drink a bunch of water?

Well, yes, but an IV is the quickest way to get fluids into your body.

Good grief, Lucy! Just let the woman work!

An argument ensues, and I’m finding that my stress level is approaching maximum levels.

Look, I’ll be quick, okay? She eyes me suspiciously.

Are you any good at it?

Am I good at it? I suppose I’m average, but then, I only have limited experience. I decide to lie.

I’m the best, I say with a fake smile, and hope I can live up to my own hype.

With well-hidden nervousness, I apply an alcohol wipe to her non-wounded arm. I’m just about to poke her, when Nurse Kane comes in to check on me.

Elora, did you get to the patient in trauma five yet? she says in a snarky tone. I don't want her to see me flustered.

Uh, not yet. I’m still trying to get a sugar on trauma one and an IV and debride on this patient.

Well, you need to step on it. Trauma one is threatening to leave.

I’ll get to him as soon as I get this line in. Her mouth twists, then she walks out shaking her head slightly. I blow out a steadying breath and proceed. Ready? I say to the nervous patient.

***

Four hours have passed by like lightning, and all my patients have either been discharged or admitted. There’s a lull in the patients coming in, so I take this opportunity to sit for a minute.

How’s your first day so far? Dr. Scott asks as he sits down beside me.

Great, I say, with attempted enthusiasm, but I think he sees right through me, as he chuckles.

Stressed? I nod and tilt my head back against the wall. Everyone is on their first day in here…and their second….and their third. He laughs at his own joke. It’s perfectly normal. Have you killed anyone yet? My eyes grow wide as my mind races.

Um, no. I think my patients are all still alive.

Then you're doing fine. I smile slightly. That’s better. Just take one patient, and one day at a time. I sigh, thankful for a friend right now. Suddenly, a gurney is ushered in through the doors. A young woman, who can’t be older than eighteen, is followed by her boyfriend, or so I assume.

It’s time to go back to work. Come on, he says, and I follow him.

The teenage girl is presenting with a head laceration. The young man appears unharmed. Apparently, they were in a minor car accident.

Please, you’ve gotta help her. She’s bleeding all over the place.

Are you her husband? another nurse asks.

No. I’m her boyfriend, he replies.

He’s my fiancé, she adds with a grin. The two smile at each other, and I can tell they're most likely in love.

Well, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to step out, Sir.

They look at each other in an almost panic.

No. I want him here. She looks at me. He can stay, can’t he?

I shrug. I’m just not sure.

Of course he can, with your permission, Dr. Scott says kindly. That seems to satisfy them both and she lies back on the gurney.

***

After numbing the area, I place a drape over part of her face and begin to stitch. I assess she’ll only need about five sutures. I offered to have someone from plastics come down and do it, but she said she didn’t want to wait that long.

So, how long have you two known each other? I ask to distract them.

We've been dating officially for a year, but I’ve liked him a lot longer than that. The girl, who I learn is Stacey, smiles lovingly at her fiancé, and he beams back at her.

I smile.

That’s very sweet.

Yeah. He’s the best.

I smirk, remembering my first case of puppy love.

So, you’re engaged? Aren’t you both sort of young for that kind of commitment?

I just turned eighteen, and Danny is almost twenty. We know we’re young, but you can’t pick who you fall in love with, you know?

Don’t I know that.

That’s true, I guess.

So, have you been a nurse long? she asks.

Shit.

This is my very first day, I say, and his eyebrows shoot up.

Oh. You look very young. That’s why I wondered. She then rubs her belly, which makes me frown.

Are you feeling okay?

The looks that pass between them seem to suggest they're hiding something.

I’m fine. The seatbelt was too tight, that’s all.

Hmm, still, there could be things going on inside that you’re not aware of. I'd feel better if you at least let us do an x-ray.

You can’t, the