Broken Glass
Dix skipped the coffee pot and went straight on to work. She wouldn't dare admit it to anyone, but after playing host and marriage counselor to her cranky best friend and his other half for the last few weeks, she'd grown used to having someone around in the morning to talk to. Once Kel moved out and took his jailbird lovedove with him, she'd tried her best to return to her old routine. But she missed the smell of bacon fat in the morning, and the chink of ice in the wine bucket when she got home. Her apartment, which used to be cozy and inviting, was cold and empty now. She'd prided herself on her independence, and her ability to entertain herself without the complication of shared living space, but maybe she was less of a loner than she'd thought.
She'd done okay convincing herself that she just needed to readjust to having to cook all her own meals again, until she'd gone to Kel's little housewarming party. The warmth she'd felt - the physical warmth from the roaring fire, and the emotional warmth of all her friends tucked together in the gorgeous Spanish style penthouse - pointed up how cold she'd let her personal life become in recent times. She'd been reluctant to leave that night, and finally had to be dragged out by Johnny and Roy's new boss (with the admonition that the hosts probably wanted to be alone to enjoy the rest of the night), and for the first time in a long, long while, found herself wishing for someone to hold her hand on the way home.
There wasn't anyone to hold her hand, though. She had to drive home alone, to her dark apartment, crawl in between chilly sheets, and sleep the night away alone. Again.
After that, she'd ditched the halfassed attempt to return to old habits that weren't working anymore anyway. She tried reconnecting with old friends and deepening new connections with her nurse hatchlings, and found a vague sense of satisfaction there. What she really wanted was for somebody to paint the same doofus kind of smile on her face that Kel had worn at the party, but that was a long term project, something that was probably going to take her into her golden years to find. For the time being, she was going to settle for mother henning the hell out of the staff at Rampart.
When she got to work that morning, she knew she'd have a full day ahead of her: the waiting room was full of tired, somber faces, all waiting for something or other. Waiting for treatment, waiting for loved ones, waiting for answers, waiting, waiting, waiting. She smiled at the sad, motley crew, and hustled on down to the locker room to change.
"Good morning, Ms. McCall," several student nurses singsonged. They were in various states of undress, some of them all the way down to stockings and body shapers, a couple still in curlers (though only the Almighty Himself knew why), while a group of them bickered over the contents of a makeup bag. They were babies, really, not much more than high schoolers, and they acted like it here in the locker room. Once the clothes were fully zipped and the hair properly cinched and the faces sedately adorned, though, they were perfect little professionals. Tidy, prim, attentive and caring. They were Dixie's girls, and the sight of them made her heart swell.
The other nurses were less chirpy, but no less pleasant as they greeted her. There were quiet conversations about school children and husbands, about embracing the single life with flair, about irritating patients and moronic doctors. Dix kept to herself and hustled into her uniform. She wanted to plop herself down in the middle of their fractured discussions and shoot the breeze with them all, but she didn't feel right doing so in front of her girls. (Besides, she really needed a cup of coffee desperately, and maybe a cigarette too, though she'd never admit that part aloud.)
When she finally emerged from the locker room, her face was drawn and serious, and she led her students, who were mostly properly assembled, out of the room like a line of blue ducklings. They settled down quickly, and set aside the high school shenanigans with little prompting. They gathered around her for their morning assignments, and then dispersed quietly to begin their duties. Dix watched them go with a soft little smile before turning her attention to the first order of business - a cup of coffee, stat.
She practically ran back to the emergency ward, and was picking her way through the crowded waiting room when Dr. Brackett rounded the corner towards his office. "Good morning, Dix!" Kel's smile was bright enough to light the whole hospital. "How's it going this morning?"
"I don't know," she said with a wry smile. "I just got in myself."
He grinned again and turned towards his office with a bounce in his step. "Have coffee yet? Nope, never mind, we're gonna have more. Hang on." He disappeared behind his office door, and returned sans matching suit jacket, clutching his lab coat in his arms. He paused and looked at the full waiting room as if seeing the patients for the first time. "Say, are you on yet?"
"Yes, actually," Dix said, and swallowed a smile. "But to answer your question, no, I haven't had my coffee. Maybe you can bring me a cup while I relieve Carol?"
"You bet," he said, and practically skipped down the hall to the staff lounge. Dix watched in amazement - his mood had gone up steadily in the days after he'd moved out, but this... he was almost like a new man!
She went to the base station and had a changing of the guard meeting, before Carol took off for the day. Dix had hardly gotten herself settled before Kel reappeared with two steaming mugs in hand. He leaned back against the radio equipment and grinned maniacally at her.
"Okay. What?"
"Guess who called me last night?"
Dix rolled her eyes and grabbed one of the mugs that Kel was still holding onto with an iron grip. "Who?"
"Murray Lawson."
"Who?"
"From Lawson's Daycare?" Kel waggled his eyebrows and actually giggled.
Dix sniffed her mug. Smelled like regular old coffee... of course, if Kel was on something, he'd probably taken it before he came in the hospital. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Dr. Brackett."
Kel's eyebrows went up, and he fluttered his eyelashes. He looked like Tweety Bird - big giant blue eyes, long dark eyelashes, bullshit innocent expression. "You mean you don't remember the daycare center that housed a thriving bail bond service on the side?"
"Ohhhhh!" She frowned. "So what'd they want?"
"To give me my collateral back."
Dix shook her head slowly. It was too early in the morning for this kind of story telling, and she hadn't had even a sip of her coffee yet. "I'm not following."
"The DA dropped the case! They don't want to follow up! Apparently, the boy refused to testify, and the parents have essentially taken him and gone into hiding; no evidence and now no witness means no case!" He heaved a great sigh. "Not only that, but they'd taken the liberty of having someone inspect the property - just needs some paint, and to have the windows replaced! Isn't that something?"
"Well, yeah, that's fantastic! Are you gonna sell it?"
"No way," he said. His cheeks were flushed with excitement - with his wintry skin, he looked like a child who'd been playing in the snow on a frosty northern Christmas morning. "Nope, I want to rent it out - there's always people looking for a place to stay up that way. It's close to Downtown, it's a straight shot to the Santa Monica Pier, it's just a hop, skip and a jump away from the Bowl... people would pay through the nose to live there!" He drained his cup in one go, like he'd forgotten he had it, and then bounced on his toes. "I absolutely cannot wait to tell Stan!"
She cocked her head. "He doesn't know yet?"
"Nah. He was doing business last night, working on some brief or other with a couple of the junior partners, so I stayed out of the way. By the time he finished up, he was just so tired that I let him go to bed without telling him. I want him fully conscious when I give him the good news. I want to see his face!"
"But..." Dix pressed her lips together. Nobody liked a killjoy. "That's wonderful, Kelly. It really is."
"But what?" He smiled at her, open and curious.
She hesitated for a split second, wishing she'd kept her mouth shut. But her curiosity (and his) won out. "But what if someone from his office gets the news and calls him to congratulate him? Then he'll know, and-"
"Oh, I doubt that," he said, dismissing her concern with a an eye roll and a hand wave. "They aren't trial lawyers, Dix, they draw up contracts for actors and the like. There's always some time sensitive disaster to avert, they don't have time to pull their heads out of their own dockets to look into things like the actual law. I mean, if they did, they wouldn't keep bothering Stan to help them out while they thought he was on his way up the river."
"I see," she said, though she didn't see at all. "So... you don't think he'll have heard the news before you get home?"
He groaned. "You can find the worst in anything, can't you?" He laughed. "Now I'm paranoid!"
She pretended indifference. "Invite him to lunch," she said coolly.
Kel's bright, glorious smile returned in full force. "That's perfect. You're the best." With that, he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders and planted a firm, hot, dry kiss on her mouth. Before she could do more than sputter at his brazenness, he spun on his heel, and practically skipped back to his office. "You're welcome," she said quietly to his retreating back.