She listened to the rhythmic patter of raindrops against the window sill. Her eyes were attentively following the path of a drop on the glass as it slowly descended, engulfing other drops of water along its course. The drop would travel slowly, until it assimilated others whereby it would gain speed, streaming downward to a final halt when it hit the edge of the window. With nowhere left to go, the water would leak horizontally, spreading across the ridge where some of the clear liquid managed to trickle through inside.
Depressing, huh? Susan sat down beside her, visibly exhausted. First time in four hours straight that I've been able to sit down.
With a soft laugh, Jing-Mei turned around, detaching herself from the lounge window. How about first time in five hours? she teased defiantly.
Brushing aside a few strands of golden hair that had gone astray on her face, Susan sighed heavily. I'd have a witty retort—but I'm just too tired. And she fell back, closing her eyes.
Jing-Mei slouched back too, weary but of something else than fatigue.
Impeccable timing, really, Susan murmured, drowsily. Jing-Mei had turned to her, her uncomprehending dark eyes prompting Susan to elaborate. Luka, Carter, she explained in broken sentences. Of course they had to go on their philanthropic voyage when half of Chicago converges to an unofficial ER party.
She couldn't repress a smile. Endless shifts. Never-ending lists of patients. She couldn't deny the exhaustion—but neither could she deny the thrill. The adrenaline-pumping moments were what she lived for, what she was good at. What had to be memorized with serious effort in her med school days now came with flowing ease and automatism. She didn't even have to think.
Lately, however, she had felt weary, but of something other than the continuous five hours of life saving procedures.
She closed her eyes harder, concentrating on the tapping of the rain. But even the violent whipping of raindrops against the window panes couldn't drown out the voices in her head.
You're not worried? she finally let out, almost in spite of herself.
Susan turned to her, eyes slowly opening as though from a long slumber.
About Luka, she said thoughtfully, pausing. About Carter.
The blonde smiled encouragingly before shrugging. Honestly, no. She frowned slightly, as though in deep thought before continuing, I know it's hard—I could never do it myself. But they're stronger than me, she said, now eyeing her with a slight grimace. They're big boys, Deb.
Jing-Mei smiled hollowly. I know. But her voice faltered in its lack of conviction. Too tired to notice, Susan just nodded quietly.
They could hear the muffled sounds of incessant activity behind the lounge doors, beckoning them to once again join the action. All the two doctors found to do, however, was to further slump into their lethargy.
Do you know when they'll be back? she asked, trying to instill in her voice as much nonchalance as she could muster.
Susan shrugged. Abby doesn't know.
Jing-Mei frowned, bemused by the thought. She's not picking him up?
There was a slight pause before an answer reached her. They kind of left on a bitter note, Susan explained drowsily. Carter's had it pretty rough of late.
She nodded slowly, thoughtfully. They both fell silent again, each busy with their own thoughts and sense of slumber, respectively. Outside, the wind had picked up, sending drives of rain against the windows in violent, sporadic bursts.
'It's not Rio, but it's not here.'
The voice had risen from Susan's side, but barely uttered in an audible tone.
she said, suddenly turning to the tired, golden-haired attending.
That's what he told Abby before leaving.
Jing-Mei's eyes shut tightly, creases of concentration appearing on her forehead as she tried hard to remember—and to forget. We had a rough shift that night, she finally uttered.
she heard Susan sigh. But it wasn't just that.
Of course she knew it too, but it was easier not to think of it.
Doctor Lewis!
The doors had suddenly swung open to the alarmed calls of Gallant. Mrs. Calloway is crashing!
Susan promptly awoke from her stupor, hurriedly getting up and gave Jing-Mei a quick roll of the eyes that had already been anticipated by an encouraging smile.
The doors shut back, leaving the lounge in its original darkness and stifling the wild sounds behind it. With a sigh, she went back to the window, the rain still streaming down the panes. She tried hard to focus on the drops and their furious plunge down the glass. This time, however, her mind wandered.
She had her chance to say goodbye, she thought. She had given him an encouraging squeeze of the hand and she had listened to him about that day's shift—about Gamma. Yet, she had allowed for him to leave alone.
Its really alright, Deb. I have people driving me. He had said it with all the undertones of one trying to find understanding in another whose family riches coerced them to take all driver services they could get.
But she shouldn't have accepted it, she cursed herself interiorly. Watching the evenly grey sky stretching on for miles to the regular rumbling of thunder, she winced at the thought that she had failed him.
Something was missing; she felt like she had slipped. The history of their friendship had always been able to withstand the drama in their respective lives. But somehow, this time, she felt like she hadn't been there enough. Maybe having gone with the assumption that Abby would be there for him, she has forsaken her own responsibilities, thinking that it would be enough. She could blame her lack of time on her relationship with Greg. But the truth was, lovers hardly replace friends and her time with Greg was far outweighed by the time she could have offered him a lending hand. She could have listened more. She could have asked more.
Something had gone wrong, and she had let it happen.
Ironically, they hadn't had a fight. And surely, if he were to show up the next day, she didn't doubt that they would be friendly. What was missing, exactly, she couldn't tell. There was no true word to accurately describe the feeling she was harboring—like sand that couldn't be stopped in a very wide hourglass. Or like water trickling down between cupped hands, no matter how tightly they are held together.
The doors suddenly swung open with a blow of raucous noise.
Doctor Chen—
Jing-Mei turned around to the door, hand already lifted in the air to stop Gallant from going on.
I know.
And she hurried out, leaving the tear-stained window from the sky.