The Chief of Surgery Wrote the No-Dating Rule, and I'm Breaking It in His Supply Closet novel · Chapter 5 of 24
Chapter 5: Speakerphone
For two days we passed each other in the hall.
The Chief of Surgery's office is on the fourth floor, at the end of the corridor.
One whole wall is glass, and a set of venetian blinds hangs on it, always half open.
"So everyone can see I have nothing to hide," Kurt once told the residents.
On Thursday afternoon I walked in with a chart under my arm and a question I had made up in the elevator.
He looked up from behind a huge oak desk.
He held a finger to his lips, then pointed at the phone.
The speaker was on.
"...which brings us to the fellowship line," said Orson Pembrey's soft, pleased voice. "Frankly, Kurt, trauma training is the least efficient thing we do."
"It's the reason you have a trauma center," Kurt said.
"Is it? I wonder. I'll be sending you a proposal to cut one fellow position next year."
I stood in the middle of the office with my chart.
One position.
There were two fellows.
Benji and me.
Kurt's eyes met mine, level and calm, and he mouthed, Sit.
I did not sit.
I looked at the glass wall, at the half-open blinds and the corridor beyond them.
I looked at the big oak desk, with its closed front panel and the dark space underneath.
And I thought of a man who'd said Let them hear, in a voice I'd never heard from him.
I wanted to hear that voice again.
I wanted to hear it with Orson Pembrey on the line.
I put the chart down on the corner of the desk, walked around it, and knelt on the carpet.
Kurt's eyes went wide.
I crawled into the dark space under the desk, between his knees, and pulled his chair in a little.
"Gretchen," he mouthed, down at me.
I smiled up at him.
He was wearing his grey slacks and his white coat, and I could see the buckle of his belt.
"Kurt?" said Pembrey. "Are you there?"
"I'm here."
"I thought I lost you."
"No," said Kurt. "I'm thinking about your proposal."
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