He Wasn't Ready to Share a Space, So I Gave Him the Whole City novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Birthday Dinner
Bethany covers a double for Sierra, drives to Dane's to tell him about a job offer, and finds him announcing at his mother's birthday dinner that Sierra is moving in. She leaves her key on the cake plate and takes the job; her manager adds that the director asked for her by name.
"Clock out, Bethany. Sierra's finally here," my manager called from the nurses' station.
She had her phone against her shoulder and was already waving me toward the locker room.
Sierra had called in sick at six that morning.
She had walked in at nine with a fresh blowout and a tan.
She hugged me anyway and said, "You saved my life, I owe you forever." She smelled of cedar.
I told her it was fine, because it was.
The ER eats people who keep score, and I had learned that in four years as a hospital tech before I ever sat in a nursing class.
Eight hours, then twelve more, and my feet hurt all the way up to my knees.
My manager caught me at the lockers.
"Harlow Creek Memorial needs a second-in-charge for their emergency department," she said. "Three hours east, six beds, desperate. I told them I'd get you an answer by Friday."
I said I'd think about it, and I meant I'd tell Dane first.
Dane and I had been together a year. For months he had said he was sick of the city.
He had also never let me move in.
He said he wasn't ready to share a space, and my one-bedroom was too small for his things.
I had stopped bringing it up.
At six that evening he had texted: "Client dinner, slammed all night. Go home and sleep, babe. Love you."
Dane never wrote that much. I had thought it was sweet.
I drove to his house instead of mine.
Cars lined both sides of his street. In a year I had never seen a single car parked there.
The garage door was down. The porch light was on, and I could hear a crowd.
He had given me a key six months ago, for emergencies. I had never used it.
I used it now.
The hall smelled of roast chicken. A paper banner over the dining room said HAPPY 60TH.
A dozen people sat around a long table with candles on it.
Dane stood at the head with a glass. Sierra sat on his right, in a green dress, with her hand on his arm.
His sister held up her phone, filming for the relatives who couldn't make it.
"And the best news of the year," Dane was saying, "is that this one is moving in with me on Saturday."
Everyone cheered.
Sierra kissed his cheek.
I stood in the hall in my scrubs with my badge still clipped on.
His mother saw me first.
"Hello, dear," she said. "Are you from the hospital? Is somebody hurt?"
The cheering stopped.
Dane turned, and the color left his face.
"Bethany." He set the glass down. "Babe, what are you doing here? I told you to sleep."
"You told me you had a client dinner."
His sister's phone swung toward me.
"Six months, and he never brought her to meet us," his mother said, looking from him to Sierra. "I told him that was not how you treat a girl you love."
"Six months," I said.
I looked at Dane.
"We've been together a year in October. You said you weren't ready to share a space."
"That's not what this is," Dane said. "Let's talk outside."
"Bethany, I'm so sorry," Sierra said, standing up. "He told me you two were basically over."
"I covered your shift this morning. I covered five of them since April."
Sierra's mouth opened and closed.
"He said you'd be fine," she said quietly. "He said you always are."
Dane's mother put down her fork.
"Dane Michael," she said.
I took the key from my pocket.
I set it on the cake plate, next to the lit candle, and the sound of it was very loud in that room.
"Happy birthday," I told his mother. "I'm sorry about your table."
I decided right there that I was done, and I walked out with my back straight.
Behind me, his sister's phone was still up.
I made it to the end of the driveway before my hands started shaking.
I sat in my car, and I called my manager, and she picked up on the first ring.
"Tell Harlow Creek yes," I said.
"Now? Tonight?"
"Now."
"I'll call them first thing." She hesitated. "Bethany, the director there asked for you by name. A Dr. Roark. Do you know him?"
I had never heard the name in my life.
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