month ago, Carolyn would have laughed at the sobriquet. Today it annoyed her. “He’s not that bad,” she told her roommate. The truth was, she could not recall when she had spent a more pleasant three hours. Certainly not since she had come to France. Even thinking back to her life in Canela, though she could remember being happy, she could not recall a conversation as enjoyable as the one she’d shared with Dwight. He was not a hollow-hearted man.
For a long moment, Helen said nothing but continued to stare at Carolyn. “I see,” she said at last, and the look she gave Carolyn made her want to lower her gaze. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. She had spent a few pleasant hours with Dwight. That was all.
From the first time she had met him, Carolyn had admired his skill in the operating room; today simply proved that he had a life outside of medicine, that—contrary to the nurses’ belief—he was not emotionless. There was absolutely no reason for Carolyn to feel so defensive about the fact that she had spent her time off with Dwight. No reason at all.
The next morning Carolyn entered the dining room an hour earlier than usual. Though she had skipped breakfast several of the mornings when she had taken Helen’s first shift, she was hungry today. For some reason she had spent a restless night, plagued by dreams of weddings and grooms whose faces were suddenly transformed when she approached the front of the church. It was absurd, of course, that none of them had looked like Ed. He was going to be her groom.
When she had filled her plate, Carolyn looked for an empty chair. The dining room was surprisingly crowded. The long table that the nurses normally shared was full, although there was a table near them with an open spot. Carolyn headed in that direction. As she did, she passed by a table for two occupied by only one man. It would be rude not to greet him.
“Good morning, Doctor Hollins.” Though she had had no intention of sitting at his table, he rose and pulled out the chair opposite him. It would be inexcusably rude to refuse. She did not.
“My name is Dwight,” he said softly when she was seated.
“I know.” In her thoughts he was always “Dwight,” so much so that she had to make a conscious effort to remember to address him formally. Yesterday, because she had not wanted to remind either of them of the hospital, she had been careful not to use any name at all, even though he called her Carolyn.
“Then why don’t you use my name? And before you tell me it wouldn’t be seemly, I agree that we’re Doctor and Nurse when we’re in the operating room.”
“All right … Dwight.”
“That didn’t hurt, did it?”
Carolyn laughed. “Not much.” But she wasn’t laughing a minute later when he asked her to pass the salt. Their fingertips touched as she handed him the salt dish, and the spark that traveled up her arm was stronger than the shock she had once received when she’d touched a wire with wet hands. The electric shock had been painful; this was not. Instead, though it surprised her by its intensity, she found it oddly pleasant, an experience she would like to repeat.
Her sister Martha had told both Carolyn and Emily that they would know when they had met the man they were destined to marry, for they’d feel a pull as strong as the most powerful magnet, and the man’s slightest touch would make sparks fly. Both Carolyn and Emily had believed Martha was exaggerating. Now Carolyn wasn’t so certain. This was unlike anything she had ever experienced. What she didn’t understand was why it was Dwight who was generating sparks. It should be Ed. After all, Ed was the man she was going to marry.
The rest of the meal was uneventful, for Carolyn was careful to touch only the edges of the dishes she passed to Dwight, and by the time they entered the operating room, she had convinced herself that she had imagined the sparks. It had been her imagination, she realized when they
For a long moment, Helen said nothing but continued to stare at Carolyn. “I see,” she said at last, and the look she gave Carolyn made her want to lower her gaze. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. She had spent a few pleasant hours with Dwight. That was all.
From the first time she had met him, Carolyn had admired his skill in the operating room; today simply proved that he had a life outside of medicine, that—contrary to the nurses’ belief—he was not emotionless. There was absolutely no reason for Carolyn to feel so defensive about the fact that she had spent her time off with Dwight. No reason at all.
The next morning Carolyn entered the dining room an hour earlier than usual. Though she had skipped breakfast several of the mornings when she had taken Helen’s first shift, she was hungry today. For some reason she had spent a restless night, plagued by dreams of weddings and grooms whose faces were suddenly transformed when she approached the front of the church. It was absurd, of course, that none of them had looked like Ed. He was going to be her groom.
When she had filled her plate, Carolyn looked for an empty chair. The dining room was surprisingly crowded. The long table that the nurses normally shared was full, although there was a table near them with an open spot. Carolyn headed in that direction. As she did, she passed by a table for two occupied by only one man. It would be rude not to greet him.
“Good morning, Doctor Hollins.” Though she had had no intention of sitting at his table, he rose and pulled out the chair opposite him. It would be inexcusably rude to refuse. She did not.
“My name is Dwight,” he said softly when she was seated.
“I know.” In her thoughts he was always “Dwight,” so much so that she had to make a conscious effort to remember to address him formally. Yesterday, because she had not wanted to remind either of them of the hospital, she had been careful not to use any name at all, even though he called her Carolyn.
“Then why don’t you use my name? And before you tell me it wouldn’t be seemly, I agree that we’re Doctor and Nurse when we’re in the operating room.”
“All right … Dwight.”
“That didn’t hurt, did it?”
Carolyn laughed. “Not much.” But she wasn’t laughing a minute later when he asked her to pass the salt. Their fingertips touched as she handed him the salt dish, and the spark that traveled up her arm was stronger than the shock she had once received when she’d touched a wire with wet hands. The electric shock had been painful; this was not. Instead, though it surprised her by its intensity, she found it oddly pleasant, an experience she would like to repeat.
Her sister Martha had told both Carolyn and Emily that they would know when they had met the man they were destined to marry, for they’d feel a pull as strong as the most powerful magnet, and the man’s slightest touch would make sparks fly. Both Carolyn and Emily had believed Martha was exaggerating. Now Carolyn wasn’t so certain. This was unlike anything she had ever experienced. What she didn’t understand was why it was Dwight who was generating sparks. It should be Ed. After all, Ed was the man she was going to marry.
The rest of the meal was uneventful, for Carolyn was careful to touch only the edges of the dishes she passed to Dwight, and by the time they entered the operating room, she had convinced herself that she had imagined the sparks. It had been her imagination, she realized when they
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