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His head bows. “Known that when it’s a matter of life or death, you’re not afraid to fail. But now, you’re terrified you’re going to fall.” He lifts his head and his eyes bore into mine. “No one here is going to let you down, Laura.”
“But it was . . .”
“If you finish that sentence with ‘all my fault,’ I’m calling your parents to tell them I’m paying for you to get a tattoo that says ‘I love Moser’—placement to be determined.”
A giggle escapes over Dr. Moser’s whimsical threat. He snickers even as I try to control my blatant laughter that feels so wrong in light of the heartbreak I’m dealing with. Once I have myself under control, I concede mentally. There’s just one thing left to deal with. “I’m still dealing with some latent anxiety.”
“Laura, are you addicted to your medication? Taking more than the prescribed dosage?” My face must reflect how appalled his words make me because he continues, “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
“Then what’s your plan?” I ask, knowing he has one.
“I want you back two days a week to start. You’ll continue to see Alice once a week to be evaluated.”
“What if I have an anxiety attack when I’m working on a patient?”
“Then use the damn brain that got you your job here. Get one of your other highly trained staff members to come into the room. Increase your appointments. For fuck’s sake, what do you want me to say?”
“That it won’t hurt?”
“I can’t guarantee that. Half the days here cause heartache of one kind or another.”
It’s time, the voice in my head encourages me. I knew it in my heart, but my mouth says something different. “It’s not that easy.”
“Why?” He pushes.
“Because I’m scared! What happens if—”
“If another lunatic comes through the doors with a gun? What happens if you’re shot again?”
“Yes.” It feels good to share the burden with someone else who understands.
“That may or may not ever happen. I can’t predict that.” He lets out a shuddering breath, his own fears riding close to the surface. “What I can guarantee is there’s eventually going to be another little girl who is hurt. She’s going to need a sympathetic doctor to examine her. Maybe there will be someone who was brought in for a knife wound, but he was really shot. That’s when they’re going to need the best. That’s you, Laura.”
“You make me sound stronger than I am.”
“You are.” He rolls his eyes before admitting, “You stand up to me all the time when everyone else—except Alice and Paige—pussyfoots or genuflects around this place.”
My lips quirk. “I had good teachers.”
His eyes meet mine before he admits begrudgingly, “You were taught to care by the best, and it started from the moment you were born.”
“You’re really pulling out all the stops, aren’t you?”
“Like you said, I like playing mind games.”
“Dr. Moser,” I begin.
“Let me put it this way. I may be one of the best neurosurgeons in the country, but if you force me to work in your ER another night, I’m going to lose my damn mind. I don’t know how you do it.”
“It’s not an easy job.”
“No. It’s not. Right now, I’m honored to say I have one of the best doctors in the country working in mine.”
I swallow hard to move the lump his words cause.
“Are you ready to resume your job—finish out your R4 and take back your damn ER?”
It’s then I capitulate. “I’ll start back next week.”