Make Time For Me

Where was Olivia Leggett? That was the question. Oh, there were plenty of places where she could be. Looking in all of those places didn’t take much time. There was the department lounge, the OR, the ER, the clinic, the exam rooms, the break room, the showers. Olivia had once said that it was hard for her to sleep when there was a storm raging. Well, there was definitely a storm raging.

So deciding to check the break room last was a logical decision. But that’s when Olivia came out – her scrubs on backwards, giggling, her eyes glowing. Of course, doing a surgery solo like that was a huge accomplishment and of course it should make Olivia’s eyes glow with pride and happiness. But that wasn’t it there. Of course it wasn’t.

It didn’t take long. Jason came out soon after, a little flushed, that same glow in his eyes.

No.

No, that was not acceptable. Happiness turned into jealous rage.

Paper crinkled in the hand that clenched to a fist. A pen, a pencil – the letter needed editing. There would be no gushing congratulations for Olivia.

There was no pen, no pencil.

Blood would do.

Blood, because of Olivia. For Olivia. A promise, written in blood. Literally.

When Olivia felt the note in her pocket, she frowned again, and this time, her blood ran cold. Once could be a joke, a very bad joke, a prank. But twice was not a joke. Twice was the beginning of a pattern. Twice was an indication of real danger.

The storm still raged outside, effectively trapping her inside the hospital. But there were so many people there. She had friends there. She would be fine. She would not be made to feel unsafe like that. She refused.

But she needed space to check this new note. A supply closet was the only thing she could come up with, so she went inside, and with trembling fingers, brought the note out and opened it. She took a deep breath and told herself that it would be fine, that it was all right, and opened the note. By the light of her phone, she read it.

The first part was crossed out, scribbled over. There were hearts and flowers all over it.

The second part- was that blood?

BI*CH, SL*T, YOU WILL PAY, I’LL MAKE YOU PAY!

Her head swam. There was so much hatred in that. A promise to make her pay, written in blood. Whoever was doing this was insane.

And Jason was right.

She did need to tell somebody, make a complaint of some sort. She was trapped in a hospital, in the middle of a hurricane, with somebody who was clearly unbalanced and wanted to make her pay.

Pay for what?

She frowned and tried to read the scribbled out part of the letter.

Congratulations! I’m so proud of you! You did amazing today!

She couldn’t read the next few words, they’d been crossed out too viciously.

I can’t wait to make you happy.

So, it had been a creepy, stalker-like congratulatory message from somebody who knew that she had accomplished something special that day. Then they had – what?

Jealousy? Had they seen her with Jason? And then they had seen her with Jason and called her a sl*t and a bi*ch, and promised to make her pay.

This was definitely serious, far more serious than she wanted to believe. There was no way she could handle this herself.

Olivia leaned against the door and tried to calm down. She tried to control her own breathing, regulate her own heart rate. She should have done more yoga with Cara. She’d hated it. But Cara knew how to calm down and regulate heart rate. She didn’t know.

It took her a few minutes, when she was afraid that she might be falling apart. But she managed to get a hold of herself again. She managed to find herself again, and she managed to breathe through it.

She had to do something. Hiding in the medical supplies closet forever was obviously not a solution.

So she would go out there, she would find Jason, and she would tell him what was going on.

She could trust him.

She could, couldn’t she? It couldn’t be him. The suspicion only lasted a moment, but it was vicious and it was terrible. It couldn’t be him. He hadn’t known about her surgery until she told him, and he already congratulated her. Besides, he wasn’t unbalanced and insane.

She trusted him.

She could tell him, and they would figure out what to do next. Together.

That’s how it was supposed to work, wasn’t it? She was supposed to trust him.

Olivia tried to put it out of her mind until she could get to Jason, and that was easy enough, considering that there was plenty of work to be done. The people coming into emergency had slowed to a trickle, but those who had come in needed care, and since those who were there were stuck there and those who weren’t were stuck at home, people were flagging. Break rooms were beginning to get full. There would definitely not be anymore s*x in the break room until the skies cleared.

“Hey! This is something else, huh?”

Olivia smiled at Paul, but inside, she was wondering if it was Paul who was leaving her those damn notes. It couldn’t be, could it? He had no reason to do so. He hadn’t shown any undue interest in her. He’d been a friend. And extremely insistent that she go to dinner at his place whenever she could.

Was that creepy?

She couldn’t decide.

“Are you all right? You look a little tired. I heard you did a ruptured ectopic pregnancy that needed a salpingectomy on your own! Congratulations! It’s a big deal!”

He sounded so sincere. Surely she was making too much out of nothing. It couldn’t be Paul.

“Yes, Dr. Heart said I did done a good job. But she saved Liza, did you hear? She came in and I don’t know what I would’ve done if Dr. Heart hadn’t been there.”

“Whatever was necessary, I’m sure. Jason said the baby – Rose, I hear – is doing fine, too. I think they might give her a middle name after Dr. Heart. It’s the kind of thing Bud would think of.”

No, it really couldn’t be Paul. She smiled.

“It is. You were swamped, I couldn’t help much. Sorry about that.”

“Well, things have calmed down a bit now. Nobody can come to the hospital right now, anyway. We’re on generators, and phone lines are beginning to go down. When the roads are clear enough for driving, we’ll see more people coming.”

“I’ve never really dealt with this. A hurricane, I mean. It’s not the kind of thing I’ve had to handle.”

“You handled everything great, Olivia. So, celebratory dinner at my place? As soon as we can? I can whip up something pretty good from non-perishables, too, if I have to!”

“I don’t know, Paul. Things will probably be kind of crazy for a while. I wonder how the cottage is holding up. Ellie and I were working on making sure we didn’t have any loose tiles, and we made sure the basement was as secure and watertight as we could make it, but I don’t know.”

“You and Ellie are the handiest people I know. I’m sure you did a great job. So stop changing the subject. We’re celebrating, and that’s that.”

Paul walked away, and Olivia wasn’t so sure again. Paul did love hosting dinners, and ever since she and Jason had started making excuses, there hadn’t been so many get-togethers and dinners. He couldn’t possibly resent her enough to send her anonymous and violent letters, could he? No, that made no sense.