Page 25 of Falling into Place

Chapter Seventeen

Brooks

“Should we take some dinner up to Dad?”

“I left a sandwich outside his room an hour ago.”

“Should I go check to see if he ate it?”

“I don’t know. I think he just wants to be left alone.”

—Conversation between Sasha and Brooks Martin, senior year

Brooks tended to get lost in his work when he was in the unit. It was one of his favorite things about the job. When he swiped his badge and walked through the self-propelled double doors, he could leave everything else behind for a little while.

Memories.

Regrets.

Thoughts of doing things to Carly Porter he had no business entertaining.

All things that kept him up at night, and that he welcomed a reprieve from.

But doing so also meant he got a little intense about certain tasks, which was why that Monday morning he was trying to look up lab results on his phone while power walking down the hall and ran smack into someone.

Automatically, he put a hand out, his fingers grasping a feminine shoulder. “Whoa, sorry.”

“That’s okay—oh, Dr. Martin! Hi.”

Nikki, one of the new critical-care fellows he’d met when he led their orientation a few weeks ago, smiled up at him.

He dropped his arm and slid his phone into the pocket of his white coat. “Hey, Nikki. How’s everything going so far?”

“Good, just finishing up with all the onboarding stuff. I start my first month in cardio with Stetman next week.”

He winced. Stetman was a real asshole to the first-years. Brooks swore the man got off on making sure each of them cried at least twice before he was finished with them. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’m actually on my way to Schwartz Rounds. Are you heading that way? I could save you a seat.”

He frowned a little, trying to place the name. He’d heard of it but couldn’t quite remember what it was. “Schwartz Rounds?”

“Oh, have you never gone before? It’s where providers get together to discuss recent patient experiences that meant a lot to them, or that were especially hard for them. Share how they felt about it, that kind of thing. We had them at my residency program, and I never missed one.”

He remembered now. The second he’d seen the description as a place where health care workers could “discuss emotional issues they face,” he’d deleted the email. “Nah, I don’t go to those.”

“Why not?”

“I guess I’m not really into all that touchy-feely stuff.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

He gave her a strange look. The way she’d said that sounded like it was something she expected of him, but that was impossible. They barely knew each other.

She winced. “Sorry, that didn’t sound right.

It’s just ... well, you know. The fellows talk.

Us first-years ask the seconds and thirds about the attendings.

Ask what we need to know, right? Like who’s gonna grill us about the patient in front of the entire crew, or who’s obsessed with local antibiotic resistance patterns.

I like to make a good first impression, so I wanted all the dirt. ”

He blinked, considering the connection in her words. “So the dirt on me is that I never show up to Schwartz Rounds?”

“No. They just said you’re pretty straightforward as a physician.

Everyone says you’re a great doctor and take good care of patients.

You’re just not one of the emotional ones who likes to connect with your patients or their families.

” She squinted her eyes a little, as if trying to ascertain if she’d upset him. “They didn’t mean it as a bad thing.”

“That I don’t like to connect with my patients doesn’t sound like a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily. There are tons of doctors like you. Some are the best ones in the field. And to be honest, I get it. Especially in critical care, when we know we won’t see all our patients walk out of here, there has to be some level of detachment to stay professional and avoid burnout.

” She shrugged. “Maybe one day I’ll get there, too, but for now, tapping into the human, emotional part is what I love most. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one feeling a certain way, you know?

I like to lean on my colleagues on the hard days. ”

When he had a hard day, he just forced it down and went about his business. He’d learned the hard way that when things got tough, he just had to keep going and get through it. “Everyone finds what works for them, I guess.”

“That’s true.” She checked her watch. “I’d better get going, I don’t want to be late. See you later, Dr. Martin.”

“Yeah. See ya.” He watched her walk away with a frown, then shook out of it and retrieved his phone.

He had work to do.

When Brooks walked into Macy’s house later that evening and found Mark and the boys gone again, he panicked. The last time that had happened, he basically signed away all his free time for four months.

“Why do you look like that?” Macy asked from where she lounged in the armchair.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re about to turn around and leave a Brooks-shaped hole in my front door.”

“You invited me for dinner, but the boys are gone,” he admitted. “That doesn’t usually work out well for me.”

“I’d argue it’s worked out pretty well for you,” Sasha said from the kitchen doorway. “But they’re here. They’re just upstairs.”

He narrowed his eyes. It was too quiet for that to be true.

“Transformers-movie marathon,” Macy added, reading his skepticism.

“Can I go up there instead?”

“No,” Macy and Sasha said in unison.

He crossed his arms, but his little show of resistance didn’t faze either of them. Macy stood and gestured for him to follow. “Come on. Food’s in my office.”

“In your office?” Why would they have dinner in there?

“We can spread out around my desk. I thought it was fitting that we meet in there for this. Anyway, it’s just frozen pizza, so it’s nothing fancy.”

Frozen pizza meant they probably weren’t going to ask him for any favors tonight, so he followed her.

Macy’s office was the one room in the house that was off-limits to the kids, so it was by far the tidiest. She sat in the padded leather chair behind the desk while Brooks pulled up an accent chair for Sasha and an ottoman for himself.

He was trying to be chivalrous, but it was so low that he ended up at nipple-level to the edge of the desk.

Behind Macy’s head, the three large frames hung where they always did, but when he saw what was displayed behind the glass in the third one, he groaned. “Oh God, why did you do that?”

Macy twisted around to regard the enlarged image as she spoke. “My brother was basically the centerfold in our magazine. Of course I was going to show it off.”

“No one else comes in here! And for God’s sake, do not call me a centerfold.”

“Fine. Main story, then.”

“You usually only put up the covers.”

“I made an exception for a full-page photo.”

“I still don’t understand why it had to be so big,” he grumbled. Though deep down, it was kind of cool to see himself beside his mother, forever captured in the frame beside his, pride for everything she’d accomplished clear as day on her face.

Macy just smiled and divvied up pizza onto three paper plates.

“I’ll get straight to the point so you stop stressing out,” Macy said to Brooks, and Sasha nodded her support of this plan.

“Sasha’s been afraid to jinx it so she hasn’t said anything, but I wanted to let you know the Bachelor series is working.

Everyone’s talking about it. And therefore, everyone’s talking about LiveOKC . ”

“Really?” Brooks said, pleasantly surprised. He’d steered clear of the articles and posts, trying to focus just on the dating app. Maybe the comment sections would give him a boost, but he knew they could be nasty, too. He figured he didn’t need that kind of feedback.

“Really.”

“Wood, please,” Sasha ordered, and the three of them dutifully knocked their knuckles against the desk, even though neither he nor Macy were particularly superstitious.

“I just wanted to let you know so you’d ... I don’t know, be assured what you’re doing is worth it, I guess. I know it was unconventional and a lot to ask.”

“Especially of you,” Sasha added.

“But from the business perspective,” Macy continued, “it’s doing exactly what we need it to.”

“Good,” Brooks said, his mother’s smile looming large behind his sister. “That’s really good. That’s what this was all for, right?”

“Partly,” Macy agreed. “But it was also about you. So I also wanted to formally check in and see how you’re doing. Sasha seems to think you’re enjoying yourself, too, but we both know she can embellish.”

“Hey!”

Brooks snorted and Macy asked, “Where’s the lie?”

Sasha scowled and said nothing.

“So?” Macy prompted. “How are you doing with this whole thing?”

While they all wanted to keep their mom’s dream alive, he believed his sisters honestly thought the whole endeavor would be good for him, too.

Family business or not, they wouldn’t have asked him to do it otherwise.

So he gave them a mostly honest answer, omitting the part about his growing infatuation with his personal stylist.

“I am having a good time,” he said. “You two were right. I’d turned into kind of a loner and forgotten what it was like to get out and meet new people. It’s been fun. More than I thought it would be.”

Some degree of tightness left Macy’s shoulders, reminding Brooks how she’d often felt responsible for her younger siblings. He’d doubtless caused her a few gray hairs over the years. “Have you met anyone you really like?”

Yes, but not through the app . And he liked her more than he’d ever liked anyone else, like ever, which was a little unnerving.

“I ... don’t know,” he hedged, unsure what else to say.

Macy squinted at him, and from his left Sasha leaned toward him.

He squirmed and took a massive bite of pizza.

“Oh my God, you have,” Sasha exclaimed. “When? Who is it? I can’t believe I didn’t pick up on it in the articles! Is it serious?”

“Whoa,” Brooks mumbled through his full mouth, palms up.