“You’re getting married?” As I bolt upright, I smack my head on the shelf in the medical bay where I was trying to catch a few minutes of sleep between surgeries. “What are you talking about, Kirsten?”
My daughter’s voice comes through the phone in a mess of laughter. “Andy and I just flew to Vegas on a whim, and when we passed the chapel, we figured…why not?”
“Why not?” I have to reign in my volume before I alarm the nurses in the hallway. “How about the fact that you’ve only known this guy for what? Two months?”
“Three months next Tuesday,” she laughs.
My hand slaps my forehead as I try to regulate my breathing. She gets this behavior from her mother. It was this reckless, spontaneous behavior that resulted in Kirsten’s existence in the first place—hers and mine.
“Dad, don’t be mad. Please?”
Her tone somehow finds a way to soften my anger, but not enough to make me possibly go along with this. My daughter can’t get married. It’s bad enough she’s even old enough to legally drink. She’s only twenty-one and just barely. I’m only thirty-nine. I can’t possibly be old enough to walk my little girl down the aisle, but I guess it’s not her fault that her mother and I didn’t use protection and became parents at eighteen.
“Kirsten, honey, please don’t do this. Just come back to Boston, and if you and Andy really want to get married, then we’ll plan something for the spring. Okay? I mean…don’t you want me to walk you down the aisle?”
I have to bite back the urge to let my emotions get the best of me. I’ve barely been in Kirsten’s life as it is. She was born in the UK, but her mother brought her to the US when she was only seven, and I had to get through medical school before I could come too. Then, I was offered a position in London I couldn’t pass up—a position good enough to put Kirsten through college. Now, thanks to an old friend helping me get a job here at Memorial, I’m finally here, and she’s asking me to give her away.
“Yes, of course I want you to walk me down the aisle.” She clears her throat, and I hear her voice start to shake a little. “That’s why I want you to come to Vegas.”
My head snaps up.
“Kirsten, I can’t…”
“Mom is coming from LA, and my best friend is coming too. Dad, I can’t do this without you. Pleeeeaaase.”
She barely has to finish the pathetic little cry, and I already know there is no way out of this for me. Kirsten is my only child. I didn’t cross an ocean for her when I had the chance. Now, she’s asking me to cross a few states. What kind of dad would I be if I said no?
I let out a sigh just as a nurse pops her head in. “Dr. James, you’re needed in surgery.” I put up a hand to acknowledge her, sending her a blank, mildly annoyed expression.
“Listen, sweetheart, I have to go. As soon as I get out of surgery, I’ll book a flight, okay?”
“Oh my gosh, thank you, Dad!”
“You’re welcome, love.”
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow!” she squeals before the call ends.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to muster the mental energy to get through the rest of this day and block the stress of having to give my only child away.
“What was that all about?” the nurse asks.
“My daughter needs me in Vegas this weekend. I have to book a flight this afternoon.”
“Well, good luck with that. This snowstorm has every airport on the east coast shut down for who knows how long.”
Letting out a groan, I hang my head back. “Any chance that storm can keep heading west and take out Las Vegas while it’s at it?”
The nurse laughs, nudging me with her shoulder while staring up at me with doe eyes. “Very funny, Dr. James.”
Her big brown eyes distract me for a split second. She’s looking up at me like she might be willing to forget I was just called up for surgery and hide out in this empty room for a little while. I stop in the doorway, peering around the corner to make sure no one can see us. I turn toward her and touch her badge which only makes her smile more, laughing like I just said something hilarious.
“Ms. Hilary,” I whisper. “What did you—”
Doctor James needed in the OR. Doctor James needed in the OR.
“Oh, bloody hell.” I let out a groan, turning away from the nurse.
“Come find me after your surgery,” she calls, and I simply wave as I turn the corner. I had a New Year’s resolution about hookups at work, but everyone knows those resolutions are shit anyway. And if it wasn’t for having to book a trip to Vegas, I probably would come find her after surgery.
