We walked two blocks to an upscale American bistro in Westwood. Olivia ordered a glass of wine and I ordered a whiskey on the rocks.
“So, you drink now?” she observed across the candlelit table.
“Sometimes.”
She looked down at her napkin. “God, I hate it when they don’t offer a black napkin.”
I laughed. “Really, Olivia, who gives a fuck?”
“Naaaate,” she whined, drawing out the word an excruciatingly long time. “It’s just tacky; I’m going to walk out of here covered in lint.”
“God forbid, Olivia. God forbid.”
She laughed. “What is it with you?”
“Nothing, I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”
“I heard you got yourself out of that pickle with the patient you lost.”
“That girl still died, Olivia. I was holding her heart in my hands when she took her last breath.”
“Not technically if she was on bypass.”
“She was on a ventilator, not bypass, because she bled out it one fucking minute,” I said sharply.
“I’m sorry if I seem insensitive. It’s just that I saw the report. You had everything in place to get her on bypass.”
“You don’t know anything, Olivia. I barely had a second to think. There’s no way anyone could’ve found the bleeder in time. Her entire chest cavity was filled with blood. There were two other attending surgeons and a resident, not to mention the anesthesiologist and nurses. No one had a clue what to do.”
“I’m really sorry, Nate, but I have to believe there was a way, otherwise what good are we?”
“Sometimes there’s not. Sometimes there’s no reasonable explanation why shit happens. We can take all the precautions, go through our lives being terrified of everything, and still there’s a chance that we’ll walk out our front door and get hit by a stray bullet meant for someone else. Life is random, and surgery . . .” I let out a hard breath. “Surgery is not exact. It’s not a science. It’s a fucking set of procedures that will hopefully work. Sometimes they don’t.” I looked around the room, noticing the pairs of unblinking, staring eyes trained on me. “I think we should call it a night.”
As though my words hadn’t even fazed her, she whined, “But we haven’t eaten.”
Olivia very well might’ve been the most emotionless person I had ever met. “Okay, Olivia, we can order, but let’s keep the conversation light. Why don’t you tell me what’s new in your personal life.”
“You know me. I’m like you. I work. That’s what I do.” She looked up and smiled. “From the looks of your condo you’ve been doing the same.”
“I’m looking to transfer. I don’t want to work under my father anymore.”
“Too much pressure?”
“No. I just want to have a normal relationship with him and that’s hard when he’s my boss.”
“Where are you looking to transfer?”
“Missoula.”
“Montana?” Her voice went high.
“The very same.”
“Why in the world?”
“I like it there.”
She shrugged, still wearing a condescending smile. We ate in silence, but as we walked out after dinner, I realized I had been unnecessarily rude to Olivia. I was distraught that Ava hadn’t called me yet. And I wondered when I would get back there.
“Is Frankie staying at your place?”
“Yes, while I look at hospitals.”
“Walk me to my hotel?” Her expression had softened.
“Okay.”
“How long has it been since we saw each other?”
“Five years at least, right?”
“Yeah, and now here we are, in the same town. I’m over there.” She pointed to the glass double doors of a boutique hotel. “It feels like no time has passed.”
I didn’t agree but didn’t say anything.
“You gonna come up, Nate?”
I stopped walking. “No. I’m not coming up.”
She turned to me. “We can be grown-ups and share a bottle of wine first.” I knew exactly where she was going. She made no move to touch me, though. Thankfully that wasn’t Olivia’s style. She continued staring up at me, waiting for me to make a decision. But the decision was made in my mind; I was just trying to figure out how to let her down gently.
“I’m seeing someone.”
She shrugged.
“Exclusively,” I added.
“Oh.” She laughed. Apparently I didn’t have to worry about her pride. Olivia was as close to frozen as one could get. “Why didn’t you say so? Who is she, a nurse?”
“No.”
“Another doctor?”
“No.”
“What does she do?”
“She’s uh, um . . . she’s a wrangler.”
Olivia burst into laughter. “What the fuck is a wrangler?”
“She works on a ranch . . . in Montana.”
“I don’t believe you, Nate. Not for one second.”
“Well, it’s true.”
“And how are you dating her if you’re here?”
“I’m going back as soon as I can break away from the hospital again. That’s why I want to transfer to Missoula.”
She huffed. “That’ll never happen. You don’t leave a major hospital like UCLA and transfer to the middle of nowhere for some cowgirl. What, did she give you a good ride and now you’re hung up on her?”