Page 22

Thirteen

“ Guten Tag, Fr?ulein,” one of the attending physicians called out loudly when Sheridan arrived for her shift the following afternoon.

“ Danke schon ,” she replied, hoping everyone would quickly laugh it off and move on.

She’d debated calling out of work tonight. The thought of leaving them shorthanded in the ED on a Friday nearly gave her hives, however. Besides, everyone working there was a professional. No one would comment on the dumpster fire that was her personal life.

She was wrong.

Social media was still having a field day with the images from Halloween.

Photos of her in the skimpy costume Sloane had picked out for her circulated all over the Internet, making Sheridan the latest thirst trap.

Even worse, the pictures of her angrily confronting the creepy dad had been turned into memes poking fun at the Mayhem.

It didn’t help that the team dropped another game last night.

Not even poor Hattie could escape the ridicule.

The trolls believed Sheridan and Hattie were the catalysts for Alek’s inconsistent play this season.

One even put forth the theory that Sheridan was a Wiccan who had cast a spell over him, taking over his house, while Hattie was a demon occupying a dog’s body.

Others simply made lewd comments about where Alek’s “head” was.

All of it was outrageous. And so demeaning.

“Shame on you, girl,” the charge nurse said. “You’ve been holding out on us.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to believe everything you see online?” Sheridan quipped as she scanned the board listing all the patients.

One of the other nurses snorted. “Does that mean you aren’t shacking up with that stud goalie with the bedroom eyes?”

“If by shacking up, you mean are we roommates? Then the answer is yes. Nothing more.”

“Mmm, mmm, mmm.” The charge nurse shook her head. “I never thought I’d say this about you, Sheridan Cobert, because you are an excellent nurse, but I am deeply disappointed you are not jumping that man’s bones.”

“That goes for me, too,” Finn’s therapist chimed in as he strode up to the nurses’ station in the center of the ED.

“Trent, what are you doing here on a Friday night?” Sheridan asked him.

“I get reduced rent on my hospital office space if I”—he winked at her—"volunteer one weekend shift every other month. I’m your mental health attending with social services tonight. Buckle up. Friday nights are usually bumpy.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You forget I have a trauma center background.”

“I was surprised I didn’t hear from you yesterday.”

She sighed. “Finn had an asthma attack. By the time I got him all sorted out, the day was over. Maybe we can take our dinner break together and I’ll fill you in?”

Trent gave her a thumbs-up before following a PA into one of the bays.

The charge nurse tsked at her. “You do know you’re wasting your time with that one, right? He’s gay and happily married.”

Sheridan smiled at her. “Which makes him the perfect confidant.”

“Any idea what brought on the asthma attack?” Trent asked a few hours later when they were in line for sandwiches in the cafeteria.

“Unfortunately, I do.”

There were lot of curveballs coming out of nowhere that summer. I have no idea what really went down.

The guilt Sheridan felt about “what really went down” that summer was so palpable, her hands shook.

She put down her tray before her mineral water spilled everywhere.

Yesterday’s conversation about Finn’s paternity had been like navigating a minefield.

But at least she’d had the truth on her side for once.

If Alek started asking more questions, she wasn’t sure how she would divert him.

Except the only other person who knows the truth is gone.

Trent eyed her shrewdly. “That bad, huh?”

She paid for her sandwich and followed him to a table in the corner.

“He’s wetting the bed,” she said when she sat down.

He paused with the sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Finn? Or the hockey stud?”

She shot him a look. He chuckled as he put his sandwich down without taking a bite. “Believe it or not, this is good news. It means the sleeping giant of grief is finally waking up.”

“I know. But how do I fix it?”

“ You don’t.” He shook his head at her. “I haven’t known you very long, but it’s obvious you’ve never met a problem you haven’t wanted to solve.

Except Finn needs to put in the work to process his grief.

You and I are here to act as the guardrails.

You can’t fix it for him.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

“I’m good at my job. Trust me on this. You know as well as I do that Finn is going to feel this loss for the rest of his life.

You can’t take it away from him and carry it yourself.

Especially when you’re dealing with your own baggage. ”

She snorted. “Baggage makes it sound small and lightweight.”

“The goal is getting patients to a point where it feels that way.”

“I guess I want Finn to have a less difficult path than I did. Less drama, you know?”

“I do know. But there are no short-cuts with grief.” Trent smiled at her. “Finn will have some things easier, though. Because he’ll have you as a sounding board.”

“And to change the sheets every morning,” she joked half-heartedly. She didn’t mind covering for Finn, but she hated that yet another thing was going wrong in his life. Gunner had invited Finn to spend the night after the game tomorrow. Finn had declined in terror.

“The less of a big deal you make out of it, the better,” Trent told her.

“Yeah that’s what all the books say. My lips are sealed.”

She’d promised Finn. He was distraught that Alek might find out about his bedwetting. The poor kid had visions of Alek banishing them back to New Hampshire in horror. The irony was, she was sure he would be sympathetic to Finn’s predicament.

It was obvious to anyone who bothered to look that Alek adored Finn. Jamie had been correct. Alek was the best choice as guardian. Finn needed a male role model, and given her dating life, who knew when the boy would have gotten one.

She had to hand it to Alek, too. Not many men would take in a second grader they didn’t know. Especially when that kid was the son of his ex and former best friend. And he’d adapted to the role without a single qualm.

Yesterday morning was a prime example. He’d sensed Finn needed cheering up without her having to point it out.

He’d rearranged his day to put Finn first. And that was before the fiasco of the asthma attack which he had handled like a pro.

As upset as she was with her brother for the choices he made, she wanted what was best for Finn. And that was Alek.

Too bad he’s not the best thing for me.

Sheridan was ashamed to admit that her crush on Alek Bergeron was as potent as ever, despite her best attempts to keep it buried.

And the blame for its resurgence rested squarely on Alek’s sturdy shoulders.

He needed to stop touching her. Or acting like he was about to kiss her.

The guy was giving off vibes like he thought of her as more than his best friend’s kid sister.

She wasn’t going to fall for it, though, because she knew it wasn’t true. And her heart couldn’t bear to be broken by Alek a second time.

“So there really isn’t anything going on between you and the stud hockey player?” Trent asked.

Only in my dreams.

She shook her head. “We’re just friends. Alek is dating Finn’s teacher.”

“You don’t say?”

“It’s still in the early stages, but I think they could be perfect together,” she lied.

The very thought of Alek looking at Miss Lane the same way he’d been looking at her the other night, made her stomach roil.

“Huh. And I always got the impression Bergeron was intelligent.”

Trent’s phone buzzed before she could ask him what he meant. After glancing at the screen, he began wrapping up the remains of his sandwich.

“This will have to be my midnight snack. We’ve got several overzealous high school football fans on their way in by ambulance.”

Peri and Kirk Bergeron arrived the following morning.

Their presence in the house seemed to invigorate Finn.

Sheridan hadn’t found the courage to broach the subject of Merriweather’s comments with him yet.

Instead, she let him soak up the attention of Alek’s parents. Heaven knew the boy deserved it.

Kirk jumped right into professor mode, helping Finn build a diorama of a Potawatomi Indian wigwam for his social studies project on Native Americans.

From the sounds of it, Alek’s dad was having as much fun with the project as Finn.

Peri was cleaning up the lunch dishes while Sheridan cut up cheese and vegetables to take on their road trip the next day.

“We can stop and see the museum on our drive to the Door County tomorrow,” Kirk offered. “You can snap some pictures for show and tell.”

“That would be dope,” Finn replied.

Peri looked at her husband curiously. “Do they even have show and tell anymore?”

Finn sobered up. “Yeah. What is that?”

Sheridan and Peri both laughed while Hattie offered her own contribution in the form of a bark.

“Hattie, come,” Finn said. “I need to get a pic of you with my project so we can post it on Insta.”

His words had Sheridan nearly slicing off a finger. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

Finn gave her a meek smile. “Hattie has an Instagram account. She’s got almost fifteen thousand followers after only three days.”

She carefully laid down the knife thinking that holding it might be making her hear things. “Hattie doesn’t have an Instagram account.”

“Yeah, she does.” Finn pulled his phone from his pocket. “See?”

“More importantly,” she continued. “ You don’t have an Instagram account.”

At least she really, really hoped some kid hadn’t shown Finn how to set one up.

“I don’t. Honest. But you can go on a search engine and look at people’s posts.”