Chapter 6

The pager beeped softly as Haymitch went through the datasheets of tomorrow's patients. Three hips and a complicated knee surgery would be waiting for him. Putting down his cup of coffee, he reached for the pager and turned it off.

"Yes?" he asked tiredly into the small beeper.

"Dr Abernathy?" An objective voice spoke on the other end. "Two phone calls came for you during your last surgery."

"Two?" Haymitch frowned.

"Ms. Trinket called to let you know she's booked two tickets to see Aida next Sunday."

Haymitch groaned, suppressing a cringe at the thought of listening to the awful opera again.

"And the other one?"

"The second caller said it was an emergency."

"Every patient is an emergency," he answered shortly, reaching for one of the X-rays lying on the white table before him. He was longing for his cosy bed and an ice-cold martini on the rocks; the shift had finally burned him out. "Did you tell them to call an ambulance?" he continued.

"Yes, sir, but she said she knew you. Her name sounded like Katrina, Katrin..."

For a moment Haymitch caught his breath. "Katniss?"

"Yes, Doctor, that was her name. I wrote down her number; do you want me to call her?"

...

Taking two steps at a time, he breathlessly reached the top landing of the dormitory, finding Katniss standing in one of the doorways, her dark eyes clouded with tears.

"Why didn't you answer your damn phone? I tried to reach you a hundred times..."

Worried, he scanned her from head to toe, then back again, but there was no sign of a superficial injury. "What happened? Did you have an accident, are you in pain…?"

The young woman shook her head and reached for his arm, pulling him into her small room. Her eyes wandered meaningfully toward her bed, in the middle of which an old blanket was placed. Haymitch's surprised gaze caught a couple of furry red ears and a despairing meow could be heard.

Startled, he looked from the cat back to Katniss. "What the hell's going on?" he asked harshly, putting a hand on his hip. "You called the hospital saying it was an emergency; I tried to reach you over and over, but your shit phone was busy every time. I just drove from one end of the city to the other as fast as I could and now –"

"Please, don't be mad. My phone account is empty; I never get my calls…"

Slowly, she drew down the light cotton blanket covering the cat.

Haymitch's angry glance fell on a bleeding flesh wound on the cat's flank. It looked like the skin had been torn open by a wire.

"Could you help her?" Katniss asked, tears gathering in her eyes. "Please! You're a doctor and I don't have any money for a vet."

"Oh, sweetheart," Haymitch sighed, giving up his grumpiness and slowly approaching the miserable-looking animal. "Is it yours or a stray?"

A faint hiss sounded as Haymitch reached for the orange-colored cat.

"It's my little sister's cat," Katniss explained, wiping away a small tear with the sleeve of her worn-out sweatshirt. "I'm looking after it until she comes back from her exchange trip in Spain."

A slight smile appeared on Haymitch's features as he looked from Katniss to the furry patient.

"Okay, sweetheart, let's take a look."

To their relief, the animal had suffered only a superficial flesh wound. No artery or vital organ had been damaged, and after a mild dose of anaesthesia and five stitches the operation was over.

"The patient needs rest and the bandage must be changed tomorrow," Haymitch instructed as he packed his scuffed doctor's bag. "Do you think you can handle it yourself?"

She swallowed hard; unfortunately, her knowledge of first aid was woefully incomplete.

"I'm sorry to ask, Haymitch, but could you do it?"

He laughed briefly as he snapped the bag shut and set it down on the floor by his feet.

"Sorry, but I'm starting a 36-hour shift tomorrow morning," he replied. "I'll have to turn you down."

Katniss nodded, her shoulders slumping, and Haymitch lowered himself into the only chair in her small room, letting his eyes wander, stopping at a dress hanging from the closet door.

It was strikingly short and low-cut. Most of his shirts at home had more fabric than that dress, he thought, as he indicated it with his rough chin.

"Your party outfit?"

"Yes," Katniss replied stiffly. Drunken clubbing wasn't her thing, but staying at home yet another night wouldn't help if she wanted to move on from Gale.

"Do you like it?" Katniss's eyes lit up. "Effie chose it."

Haymitch had to force himself not to shake his head; he could imagine only too easily how Effie had persuaded her to buy this too-short dress.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Pretty daring," he suggested.

"I know." From her heavy voice he could tell that she wasn't happy with Effie's choice either.

"Have you ever thought that this dress could attract the wrong kind of men?" he prompted.

Katniss avoided his gaze as she answered. "It seems this sort of dress worked fine for Effie..."

Haymitch flinched involuntarily, understanding the hint only too well.

"Katniss, when I met Effie, she was wearing a dress with three times as much fabric as that one."

As he continued, the young woman looked up with interest, gazing into his clear blue eyes as she listened.

"We met at the Christmas party of the hospital I work at. Effie was very recently divorced and she was vulnerable, tender..." The ghost of a smile flickered across his features, smoothing the deep lines of his forehead for a moment as he continued, "She was simply stunning with her charming smile on her lips..." He snorted harshly, and shook his head. "Sorry, Katniss; too pathetic, I know."

"No!" she protested, still lost in his words.

Abruptly he got up, grabbed his leather bag and headed for the door. "Your cat has rather shaggy fur; put some olive oil in her food, and after a few months it will be healthier."

She nodded, following him to the door and with as much courage as desperation she flung her arms around his neck, pulling him close, and breathed a thank you into his ear.

Gently, he removed himself from her eager embrace and tenderly stroked her dark hair.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."