She shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way. The emergency room is a fast-paced environment, without a lot of time for ‘atta girl’s. If we’re screwing up somewhere, there’s only time to point that out, so we know what not to do in the future. If we’re doing something right, we won’t hear about it.”
“In baseball, it’s different. If I’m working with my pitching coach and a pitch is working particularly well, he’ll tell me so I can work to replicate it. And of course, he’ll let me know if my mechanics are off so I can correct it. But I still get to hear the good as well as the bad.”
“We’re in completely different fields, Tucker. You can’t compare the two. You’re constantly working on your craft, trying to perfect it, even the parts that are working well. Your evaluations will be completely different from mine.”
He reached across the table and grasped her hand. “Aren’t you doing the same thing?”
She looked down where his much larger hand covered hers. She’d never thought about all the things she’d done right during her time in medical school, through her internship and her years in residency. She’d concentrated her efforts trying to fix all the things she’d done wrong. It was a constant learning process.
But Tucker was right—she’d done good things, and she’d learned so much. She often forgot to take the time to pat herself on the back about all those good things.
“Thank you, Tucker.”
“For what?”
“For reminding me that I’m good at what I do.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome. Try reminding yourself every day.”
“I will.”
He paid the bill, and they headed out toward his car. He drove her back to the hospital, stopping out front.
“Where are you parked? I’ll drive you to your car.”
“Here is fine. I’m parked in the physician’s lot and you need an access code to get in there.”
He turned in his seat to face her. “Would you like to come to my place? I really liked spending time with you tonight, Aubry. I don’t want it to end yet.”
Her stomach did a tumble. She’d started out the evening so angry with him for not calling her. But at dinner, they’d had such an in-depth conversation. She’d learned a lot about him. If nothing else, she wanted to continue to learn more, to talk more with him.
“I’d like that. Wait here for me and I’ll meet you.”
She got out of the car and hustled her way to the elevators.
“Dr. Ross?”
She stopped and turned as one of the attendings she occasionally worked with on the night shift called her name.
“Yes, Dr. Landing.”
“We’ve got a multiple-vehicle accident coming in. We could use all the hands we can get.”
“I’m . . . off duty.”
“Not now you aren’t. We’re shorthanded and need some help.”
She sighed. As a resident, she had to do what she was told, and as a doctor, it was her duty to help the sick and injured. Thankfully she’d had that last glass of wine more than an hour ago and had enjoyed a couple of cups of coffee since then. “Of course. I’ll go change and be right there.”
She headed down the hallway, grabbing her phone out of her pocket. She punched in Tucker’s number.
He answered right away. “Did you get lost on your way to the car?”
“Worse. There’s a multi-vehicle accident on its way in. One of my attendings just stopped me and asked me to help.”
“Go do your job, Aubry. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She appreciated that he understood. “Okay, thanks, Tucker.”
She hung up, slipped her phone in her purse and hustled her way into the locker room to change into a pair of scrubs.
TRUE TO HIS WORD THIS TIME, AND BECAUSE HE REALIZED he didn’t always follow through, Tucker contacted Aubry the next afternoon. He figured after putting in some extra time at the hospital, she might be exhausted and need some sleep, so he texted her and said to let him know when she was awake.
She texted him just as he got to the ballpark for warm-ups.
Got your text. Sorry. Late night that went longer than expected. What does your evening look like?
He smiled and sent her a return text.
Just got to the ballpark. Have a game tonight. I’m pitching. Wanna come?
It took her a few minutes to reply with: Sure.
He laughed, because he knew she obviously didn’t want to come. She was probably tired. But he’d take what he could get. So he texted back.
Great. Assume you’ll sit in the owner’s box with your dad. See you after the game.
Several minutes later, she replied.
Good luck, Tucker.
He grinned, then headed into the locker room. It was time to get into game mode and clear his mind of everything else. This was an important game. After yesterday’s loss on their home turf, they needed to win this one tonight.
And it was up to him to pitch well.