Beautifully Awake(2)
My reflection bounced off the full-length mirror. The changes were subtle, but they were there. Still five-six, but three years of building a new life recharged my confidence. I stood a little taller. My size four frame looked less skinny and a little more toned, thanks to my new therapist—running.
It didn’t really matter because it was all about the shoes. A strange guilty pleasure for a girl from bumble fuck where UGGS and flip-flops defined footwear. I slipped on my favorite black patent leather peep toe pumps and cracked a half smile. They might not be designer shoes, but they looked good to me. It was my only real vice.
I ran a quick brush through my hair, not that it mattered much, since my loose dark brown curls would be up in a messy ponytail by lunch. I was predictable.
Mascara and chapstick. Good enough. I repeated my mantra: just get it over with.
“Mornin’, Miss Lili. Happy New Year, sunshine!”
“Good morning, Jorge. Aren’t you a comedian! How’s your family?” I asked, returning my friend’s infectious smile.
Anyone who had any connection, even remote, to medicine knew the significance of July first. Philly had a hospital every few hundred feet, so even my trusted elderly barista who owned the most delicious coffee cart in all of Center City was astutely aware.
He was right for all intents and purposes; it was a new year. Residents all moved up a year in training, but unfortunately their egos increased exponentially overnight. July also welcomed brand new interns to the floors. Medical student one day, doctor the next. Frightening. NEVER get sick in July.
“What can I getcha, sunshine? Usual?”
“I think I’ll pass on the latte, but it’s Wednesday, so I’ll take two of those delicious apple scones if you have them.”
Caffeine and nervous stomach was an ugly mix. I didn’t need anything fueling the rumble down below. Some people manifested stress with a simple pimple. Not me.
On the bright side, I saved three bucks. Cha-ching. If I had a sexy shoe jar, I only needed two hundred more days like today and I might have gotten the nerve to actually try on a pair. How was that for glass half full…
“Anything for Miss Lili. You tell me if those kidza misbehave. I fix ‘em good!”
I’m not sure what I loved more, Jorge’s Spanglish or that he blew me a kiss every day.
Coffee-less, I crossed the street, zig-zagging between the half dozen cars lined up in front of the hospital parking garage. You could set your watch by hospital shift changes. From outside, it looked like a hockey line switch. Fast and precise, without game interruption. It was just missing sex on skates.
If I weren’t OCD about being on time, I would have dilly-dallied a little longer. It was seriously gorgeous out—one of those days when the sky was so crystal clear it looked fake, and the air was so crisp you wished you could bottle it. I couldn’t fill my lungs enough. It was a perfect beach day. But not today. Today duty called. I headbanded my hair with my wide framed sunglasses and pushed through the revolving doors. The hospital was already buzzing, and it was obscenely early.
My vibrating side interrupted my autopilot trek toward the elevators. I reached into the depths of a seriously oversized bag to find the damn thing.
“Hey, everything okay?” I finally answered.
“Hey, Asspuck. How’s it going so far? Did you meet him yet?”
“Sierra, are you for real? Why are you awake and what possessed you to call me so early?” My best friend didn’t do early—EVER. Uneasiness settled in the pit of my stomach. “Everything okay with the baby?”
“Don’t worry, the baby’s totally fine, kicking the crap out of me and wreaking havoc on my body, but great. Lil, you need to see my boobs, they’re like a road map with green lines everywhere ... and you’re gonna love this-”
“Um, Sier? I’m at work, can this wait?” I tried to whisper since there was a cluster of people waiting with me at the elevator.
“A hemorrhoid. A. Fucking. Hemorrhoid.” She had no shame. “It’s so disgusting. Don’t get me wrong, I love being pregnant, and I knew my body would take a serious hit, but I never expected a baboon ass.”
I sucked back the snort that threatened to escape from my nose while I pushed the button for my floor.
“You’re a freak!” That was an understatement. And why I loved her. All five feet of her. Sierra had more personality in her left calf than anyone I’d ever met and was not afraid to show it. If she were any taller, it wouldn’t be fair to the female race. Slim but blessed with top curves and Neutrogena fair skin.
“Are you really calling me at the crack of dawn to tell me about this little discovery? Where’s Dodd? Shouldn’t you be sharing your woes of pregnancy with that hunky husband of-”