"Huh," I came to my senses.
"Retraction," she said again, a little agitated.
I kicked myself as the head surgical nurse gave me a concerned look. This was the first time I was assisting Dr. Krantz, the head of our ortho staff -- and she was not a patient woman. Especially when she had someone on the table.
Mark Fitzgerald. Leave it outside Lewis. Try not to sew this guyās knees to his ankles.
"Damn," said Dr. Krantz. "If these pretty boy actors insist on buying hog bikes, the least they could do is learn how to ride them. See where itās just shattered??"
"Yes," I replied.
Mark Fitzgerald...dammit. Stop it, Eric.
"Okay, weāre gonna put humpty dumptyās legs back together again," she said.
After surgery, Dr. Krantz said, "Not a bad procedure, Lewis. Not bad at all."
"Thanks, Mark Fitzgerald."
"What?"
"I mean, thanks, Dr. Krantz," I corrected.
ĪShit,ā I thought to myself. ĪThereās nothing going on. Who is this guy anyway. Heās nobody -- NOW. Itās not like Andrew didnāt have anyone before you! But I hate to think that he did...ā I picked up the phone. I needed some reassurance. He was at my place.
"Hi, Drew..."
" Hey! When do you get off?"
" Later. What're you doing?"
"Making dinner. Grilled Snapper, baked potato, and a big olā salad."
"Sounds delish. Youāll have to eat it without me."
"No! When do you think youāll be home?"
"Don't wait up, that's what I think."
"Shit."
"Hey."
"Hey, what?"
"Let's have a date. Tomorrow night, 8:00 at my place."
"You mean our place?"
"Not till the weekend. I have two more days to enjoy my bachelor pad... All right, Iāll see ya."
I felt better.
