Six months ago...

All I can think about is my birthday. Should I have a party and invite the girls from work, or just go out to eat with my kids like always? It feels like thirty-seven is just around the corner and celebrating birthdays is just getting morbid. As long as I don't end up drinking a bottle of wine and crying in the shower, it'll be an improvement from the previous birthday. I know to expect a couple of handwritten cards, a homemade breakfast, and some original paintings from Sydney and Stella, so I plan to make some room on my bedroom wall when I get home.

"Reese!"

The voice pulls me out of my thoughts and back to Floor 5B-Cardiac Stepdown. I remember I'm working, just as Valerie's face comes into focus. One look in her eyes and I know that she is well aware my mind is halfway gone for a few minutes.

"Welcome back," she chuckles. "Dr. Boone wants 502 to get two units of O-Neg. If you get it, I'll put the order in. The weird one is down there and I'm not in the mood."

"You got it. I could actually use the walk, and I don't mind Josh. He's quiet. I like quiet."

Valerie rolls her eyes. "He's bizarre and you know it. I bet he lives with his Mom and reads comics in a room full of toys that he left in the box so they hold their value."

"So, I shouldn't have given him your number?"

"Reese!" She makes each letter sound like it's written in all caps and bold. "That is not funny."

I laugh and walk toward the door to the stairwell. The month before I promised myself I'd take the stairs until the last twenty pounds melted off of my hips. Stairs and vegetables. That will finally get me to 130 lbs. I just know it.

The basement floor is library-quiet at night. You can't imagine the silence that falls over a hospital at one in the morning. On the units you can hear the beeps of the monitors and the subdued whispers of nurses at the station. But places without patients, like the lab or the blood bank, have a stillness that borders on eerie.

I often use my breaks to walk around the parts of the hospital that I don't usually get to see. That's how I've met people like Stewart the night watchman, Mercy the night operator, and Josh the blood bank guy. They move around silently completing their tasks, helping the place run and rarely getting seen.

Joshua Rosza is the most interesting. I would put him at no older than thirty and no younger than twenty-five. He's just under six feet tall with this dark-brown hair that's often unruly, like he rolls out of bed and comes straight to work. I doubt the kid even owns a comb. It makes me think he doesn't live with a woman. Whether it's a mother or a girlfriend, a woman would tell him to trim his hair and run a brush through it. A lot of the nurses thinks he's weird. I think he's just shy.

Mercy Overbrook is the exact opposite. She's barely five feet tall with red hair down to her hips and straight ironed within an inch of its life. Her heavy makeup makes it hard to guess her age. If she sees me, she will take a deep breath and I know she's about to start a story that will last hours. Because she's trapped in her little cubby, she's desperate for someone to talk to. I've taken her coffee a few times when I just need to get off my floor and go for a walk. She's the perfect person if you don't want to talk, but love to listen. You just need a plan for getting away when it's time.

That leaves Stewart Milano. I'd place him at sixty-years-old. His gold wedding band is tarnished and looks like it hasn't been off that finger since the dawn of time, so I figure he's been married since high school. I've never asked details, but I think he has a few kids. I'd be willing to bet they're all in the area and in manual labor. I can picture Stewart, his plump wife, and a table full of grown kids with their partners around a big table having a loud, chaotic Sunday dinner. It makes me a little jealous that I don't have parents and family dinners like that.

I reach the basement level and swing open the door to the hallway. Josh's music hits my ears. It isn't as loud in the room as it seems it would be when you hear it. The sound has a funny way of traveling in these lower levels. The closer you get to the blood room, the quieter the music gets. He must have thousands of CDs. Every time I come down, it's be a different album. Tonight, it's Pink Floyd.

"Hey, Josh!" For the last two years, since Josh started, I've began our conversations the same way. He never has the first word.

"Hey Reese." Josh jumps up from his desk in the back and I can see his face over the computer monitor. His hair is extra messy tonight. He might have been sleeping at his desk when I called out his name. "Business or pleasure?" he asked, chuckling at either his idea of a joke or just the word "pleasure."

"Both," I quip, and immediately regret it as I watch the blush move from his neck to his face. "Kidding! Two units of O-Neg for 502, please. Dr. Boone is the ordering."

Josh's fingers fly over the keys at a pace that still impresses me. He clearly spends a great deal of time on the computer. I use the 'search and peck' style of typing. One finger at a time. Thankfully, my ability to type is not a requirement for being a nurse.

"Got it," he whispers and looks up to meet my eyes. "Is that all you need?"

"Do you have anything other than blood?" I ask, laughing.

"I guess not," he responds sheepishly, looking down.

"I appreciate you asking, but no. The two units are enough. I'll take one now and come back for the other when it's time." I felt bad. I didn't want him to be embarrassed. Looking again, I guessed he was younger than I thought, maybe twenty-four. He looks like a young man, still trying to figure out how to talk to a girl. I want to change the subject. "How is it tonight?"

The look leaves his face and he becomes a little more comfortable in his skin. "It's been slow. You're the first person I've seen all night. So much for the whole 'full moon craziness.' I thought I'd be running all night long."

"Don't say that!" I shout. "You're going to jinx us!"

His hand shoots up to his mouth, trying to bring the words back and trap them in his mouth. "Damn. Sorry, Reese!"

"No worries. Just know it's your fault if a ten-car pileup comes into the ER and they all need blood."

He hands me a bag of blood out of the warmer and I sign a paper for records. Every bag of blood that comes in is kept track of. You would be surprised how many get wasted or are no good. (For those of you who don't give blood, you should. Hospitals are always in need.)

"Talk to you later, Josh. I'm night shift all week."

"Me too," he says as he drops back down into his office chair and becomes lost behind the screen. As I walk out a thought pops into my head: I wonder if he's watching porn?

I swallow back laughter and hurry to the stairwell door before the giggles fight their way out, and I laugh all the way up to the 5th floor.

Valerie is at the nurses' station when I get back. She has an energy drink in one hand and blood tubing in the other. I note an oddly chipper mood and suspect that she's started smoking again. As far as I know, she's gone six weeks without a cigarette, but it wouldn't be the first time she's fallen off the wagon and has tried to hide it from me. Her smile and relaxed body language has the nurse in me thinking she's had a recent puff or two. I decide to confront her later. She's my best friend and I know she can quit, but is struggling. I also know she'd never ask for help. I love her enough to offer.

"Ready, toots?" she chirps.

"One blood bag comin' up!"

The policy in our hospital states that two nurses must check the blood and hang it for the patient. We go through the process of asking name, date of birth, and reading off the information on the IV bag, before giving it to the patient. Once the tubing is hooked up to the patient and spiked into the bag, we spend the first fifteen minutes watching to make sure the pale old man in the bed doesn't have a bad reaction to the plasma. Once we're sure he's fine, we slip out and head back to the station.

"So," Valerie turns suddenly, locking eyes with me, "what's the plan for your birthday?"

Damn, I actually forgot that I'm getting old for a few minutes.

"Oh, I don't know. I think I'll just hang out with my kids. I feel like I never see them."

Valerie touches my shoulder. "Well, I get that, but you have to have time for yourself. Maybe we can do something that's kid-friendly."

"Maybe," I respond, already knowing I'd do anything to avoid going out with all of them. Just as I'm about to change the subject, Valerie zeroes in on something behind me and starts to fluff her hair. I don't even need to turn around; I know exactly who is headed our way.

Dr. Landry started working in our hospital five years ago. That meant Valerie has loved him for 4 years, 11 months, 29 days and 23 hours. Frankly, I don't get it. I mean, I guess he's good-looking. He's roughly 6'2" or 6'3" with chestnut brown hair that falls into his eyes when he peers down. As long as I've known him, he looks like he shaved two days ago. It must take a lot of work to look like you don't do a lot of work on your appearance. I have blue eyes that I've always thought were pretty. They look exactly like the sapphire in my high school ring. But his eyes are the kind of blue that you only see in the Caribbean, the blue waters from a poster in the windows of travel agencies. His eyes are like looking into an ocean.

Okay, he's definitely hot. One problem, though—he's a dick. He's just not hot enough for me to put up with the attitude.

I take a deep breath and turn to smile at Dr. Landry. He's reading while walking and passes me before I can say a word. Fine by me. I hate pretending that I don't think he's a jerk. I let go of the breath I'm holding.

Spoke too soon.

He peers up and meets my gaze. I wonder sometimes if he has the same reaction looking into my eyes as I have seeing his. It only takes a second to realize that he doesn't care one bit. He probably doesn't even notice I'm a human woman.

"Reagan."

"Reese."

"Reese," he responds without missing a beat. "Is the blood running?"

"Yes, Dr. Landry." This is like a chant when he's around. Yes, Dr. Landry. Every other doctor I work with goes by their first name with the nurses. Not him. The most I know about him is the embroidery on his jacket.

A. Landry, MD–Hematology

That's it. In all the years of night shifts and desperate conversations amongst staff to stay awake, he's the only one who's stayed tight lipped. So, all the nurses respond the same way. "Yes, Dr. Landry" or "No, Dr. Landry." For all I know, the "A" stands for asshole.

"Dr. Boone has consulted me to 502 to figure out why this man needs a transfusion every month. I want a close watch on him. Any change and I want paged."

"Yes, Dr. Landry." He's already halfway down the hallway before I get the words out. "You're welcome," I whisper to his back.

Valerie rushes over to grab my arm. "Oh, Reese, I can't stand it. No man should be that gorgeous. You should invite him out for your birthday. A couple of drinks and maybe I can finally confess my undying love to him!"

"No way would I spend my birthday with him. The only reason they hired him is because no one wants to work nights, and they need a warm body in a lab coat. It definitely wasn't his personality."

Valerie isn't listening. She's staring off down the hallway where her dream man has disappeared. She's my best friend and I'll love her forever, but this one I just don't get.

"Val!" I snap my fingers in front of her eyes and she jumps. "Listen, that blood has a few hours to run, my patients are asleep, and I need a break. I'm taking my lunch and getting some fresh air. Please keep an ear open for my people and call me if anything happens."

"Done. See you in thirty. Enjoy your break, but please be careful outside. I hate when you go out there. Just go to the cafeteria or sit in the breakroom."

"No, thanks. I'll be fine. The cafeteria is creepy and the break room smells like Lisa's salmon. 503 has a bed alarm and 507 is confused. When I get back, you can go." I hand her a sheet that has notes on each one of my patients and move quickly to the break room for my lunch box. I'm always certain that someone would try to stop me when I go on break so I move as quickly as possible.

Looking back now, and knowing what's about to happen, I should have listened to Valerie and stayed in the break room. Salmon doesn't smell that bad.

A/N: Hope this chapter finds you well! Please keep in mind that the pacing of this story may be a little on the slower side, but not excruciatingly so. I promise! :)

P.S. I'll try to update on a weekly basis. Work and school consume my life, unfortunately lol.