Mickey nodded sympathetically.
“I can identify. I took my share of shit in high school, too. But, Abby, those women probably stuff their fat asses into drawstring pants and wear them with garden clogs every day. What makes them so special?”
Abby stared at a case of whiskey across from her on the floor, not answering.
“Listen,” Mickey said, bending down closer to her, “You’re beautiful, smart and honest. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that a doctor is interested in you. You aren’t like most of the other girls here. There’s nothing tawdry about you. The women who came to gawk wish they were you, and the men wish they were him, if he’s with you.”
Abby smiled at Mickey, sighing.
“You’re probably right,” she said.
“Of course I am. The sign out front says, ‘Mickey’s’ doesn’t it? I’m always right in my own house. Now get that tight ass out there and shake it like those bitches only dream of being able to.”
“Thanks, Mickey,” she said, rising from the floor.
“But first go put on some fresh makeup. You look like shit.”
Chris flew down the stairs, grabbing his stethoscope to keep it from falling off his neck. He had been in too big of a hurry to wait for the elevator. What he had just heard from Reed in Charlotte’s office had shaken him. He pushed his way through the double doors of the ER, on a mission.
When he walked into the lounge, it was quiet, with some people watching the news and others eating at a table.
“Kelsey,” he barked to a nurse who sat on the couch. “Who else went to the club with you?”
Kelsey colored with embarrassment, stammering.
“Who went there?” Chris demanded.
“Uh … it was me, Angie, Mara, Pat and Mike.”
Chris’ eyes shot to a doctor who was eating at the table.
“Pat?” he demanded angrily. “You?”
“We just went out for an evening, what’s the big deal? Did your girlfriend say something?”
“No, I heard from someone else because apparently you guys have been talking about her.”
Two nurses snuck out of the room, seeming to sense that the tension was only going to rise.
“It’s a free country, Chris. I saw your girlfriend’s tits, but so did a couple hundred other guys who were there.”
“You’re a real piece of shit, Pat. You have to go check Abby out because you can’t get a fucking date on your own. Yeah, Abby works at a strip club. I’m not embarrassed by it, I just didn’t mention it because it’s none of your goddamn business. Any of you.”
He wanted to say more, but shook his head and stormed from the room instead. Chris was embarrassed by their behavior. He hoped Abby hadn’t recognized any of them. The thought of her hurting was painful for him. He was still reeling from the way he had seen Kathy treat her.
Abby was capable of standing up for herself, Chris knew that. So why didn’t she? He sensed it was because she didn’t think she was worth standing up for. He needed to show her that she was.
She hated the call she was about to make, but Abby knew she had no choice. She couldn’t bring herself to leave Audrey and Sara with a stranger. It would be no fun for her or Chris if she was worried about them the whole weekend.
“Hey,” Chris said in greeting, and she cringed as she tried to think of how to tell him.
“Hi. I can’t come to California with you. I’m sorry.”
“How come?”
“You know … just the girls and all. Work. I just can’t get away from my life for that long. Please understand. I appreciate you asking me and I hope you have a great time with your friends. I checked out the photos of the house you sent, and it looks amazing.”
There was silence, and she held her breath as she waited for him to speak.
“Okay.”
Surprised she had gotten off so easily, she reached into her purse and pulled out the envelope he had given her.
“Is there any way you can get a refund on the ticket you bought me?”
“I don’t care about that, Abby. Keep it in case you change your mind.”
“I can’t change my mind, Chris. It’s tomorrow and I’d have no one to take care of the kids. I can’t just go places the way you can.”
“You could, but you refuse to take help from anyone. It’s like you want to prove you don’t need anything I offer.”
“That’s not fair, Chris. I’m sorry, I have to go, I’m late for a meeting.”
As she walked toward the conference room, Abby shook her head as she recounted the conversation. Chris didn’t understand that she didn’t do long weekends at beach houses the way he and his friends did. It was another reminder of just how different they were.