Doctor’s Duties by K.C. Crowne

Chapter 9

ABBY

It was Monday morning, the first day of the new semester, and my eyes were on the jeans and Chuck Taylors in my closet. But, with a sad sigh, I glanced away from them and to the gray slacks, white button-up shirt, and black flats I’d picked out last night. I plucked them from their hangers and set them down on the bed.

Wait until at least month two before you bust out the Beatles shirt and jeans. Dressing up is kind of annoying, but it’s a good idea to make a solid first impression on your professors.

As I stepped into my slacks, however, I kept my eyes on the prize – the fact that I was starting my first year of specialized courses at Colorado Med. That meant it’d be finally taking the oncology courses that would get my career started in the field I was passionate about.

I’d do a couple of years more in school, then I’d start my residency. Just the thought of finally getting out there into the world was enough to put a smile on my face, to make me forget all about what clothes I was wearing and all other such minor details.

It was also bittersweet. As I buttoned my shirt and stepped over to the mirror and began work on my mascara, I found myself thinking about my grandma – the reason I’d chosen oncology in the first place. I thought about those years back when I was a kid, watching her slowly waste away from breast cancer in some sterile hospital bed.

Maybe it was a childish thing to think, but I’d do all I could to prevent that from happening to anyone else. All the money my parents had thrown at doctors hadn’t helped save Grandma but maybe I could help other people’s grandmas down the line. If I could manage to use the privilege I came from to do even a little bit of good in the world, it would all be worth it.

I pushed the sad thoughts out of my head as best I could. One of the things I’d always loved about Grandma was how tough she was. If she were there to see me getting all misty-eyed thinking about her, there was no doubt in my mind that she’d let out her famous barking laugh, give my shoulder a shove, and tell me to put the emotional BS aside and focus on what need to be done. She’d say it with love, and I’d know for sure that she had my back every step of the way.

Grandma had been more than just a person in my corner. It seemed like she was the only one in the family who’d seen my potential, who’d appreciated my love of learning, who saw me as something more than a future trophy wife to be married off. Well, other than Lexi, of course.

So, as I put together my bookbag and got my coffee ready in the kitchen, I made the same silent vow that I’d made so many times before when thinking of Grandma – that I’d use the sadness I felt whenever she came to mind as strength, to get out there and, as Grandma liked to say, to “grab the world by the balls and then turn it around to kick it right in the ass.”

A smile formed on my face. I was ready.

I grabbed my keys and headed out to my car, turning it on and blasting some Fleetwood Mac – a personal favorite- as I drove to campus.

I didn’t even get to the first chorus of “Rhiannon” before an incoming call cut out the song. My gut sank when I glanced down at the screen and saw that it was from Mom.

Hey – maybe she knows it’s your first day of classes and wants to wish you good luck?

Why not think positively? I swiped the screen and brought the call onto the car’s Bluetooth.

“Hey, mom!” I said, keeping my voice chipper despite how tense simply seeing her name on the screen made me feel. “What’s up?”

“Where are you right now?” she asked, not a trace of warmth to her voice.

“I’m in the car. On the way to class.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she said, a touch of disappointment hanging off her words. So much for a call to offer some encouragement. “Well, you should come by the house instead.”

“Wait, what?” I asked. “You want me to blow off the first day of classes?”

“Why not? I remember college – the first days are just the syllabus. Nothing you can’t read on your own. Besides, I have something more important I need you here for.”

“Mom, I’m not going to skip. This is med school, not dance class. I can’t afford to get off on the wrong foot by being absent on the first day. What would my professors think?”

“They’d get over it. That is, if the even noticed you weren’t there.”

“What’s this all about, anyway? What do you need me over at the house for?”

“Because, and I’m assuming you’ve already forgotten, we have the fundraising event at Stonebrook on Saturday night. I’ve got some gown ideas for you, and I want you to come by and take a look at them.”

“Wait, what fundraising event?”

My mother sighed exasperatedly. “For Melanie Walsh’s charity, Abigail. Don’t you keep track of these things?”

“Mom, there’s no way I can carve out time for a charity thing this weekend. I’m going to be slammed with studying.”

“Tell me you’re joking.”

“Does it sound like I’m joking?” I asked, irritation creeping into my voice. “I don’t have time for this kind of stuff, and more than that, I don’t even want to go.”

“It’s not a matter of what you want,” she said. “It’s a matter of what’s expected of you. Now, you’ve known about this event for weeks, whether you bothered to remember or not. And you’re going to attend. Besides, this event will be absolutely resplendent with eligible bachelors. The odds of you finding a suitable man there are very good.”

“You mean the odds of finding a guy you want to hook me up with are good.”

“Please. You let your father and I do that matchmaking and we’ll surely find someone you’ll be happy with.”

“Or I could date on my own and find a guy. You know, like adults do.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” she asked. “Have you received any tuition bills in the mail recently?”

I opened my mouth to speak but closed it when I realized what she was getting at.

“Oh, no,” she said. “Of course, you haven’t. That’s because all of those come here, so your father and I can dutifully pay them while you buck against our attempts to build a good life for you.”

I hated when she pulled this card. Lucky for me, it was one of the most used in her deck.

“Just because you pay my tuition doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do.”

“You’re right. It simply means that if you want it to be paid, you’ll do as we tell you. And Abigail, we’re not asking that much. Hell, plenty of women would kill for a chance to put on a lovely gown and attend one of the most exclusive charity events in town.”

“Then they can go instead of me.”

“Oh, grow up. And if you can’t come by during the day, plan on coming over after class. Either way, I expect to see you today.”

What came out of my mouth next passed my lips without any control on my part.

“Well, I can come over. But don’t plan on hooking me up with some rich dude this weekend – I’m already seeing someone.”

My eyes went wide after I spoke. It was like I’d been possessed for a brief moment, like I didn’t have any control over my own words.

“What?”

I decided to run with it. After all, I was so frustrated with my mom in that moment that I would’ve said anything to get out of her plans for me.

“I’ve met someone. He’s great – he’s a doctor and a published writer.”

A long pause on her end followed. “You’re serious?”

“Serious as it gets.”

“What’s his name?” she asked. “I want to look up what he’s written.”

“He’s, um, he works under a pen name that he didn’t tell me yet. Really secretive about this stuff. I think he’s a little sensitive about it, actually.”

“But he’s a doctor, right?”

“Yep. Did time with Doctors-Without-Borders and everything.”

More silence followed.

“Well, if he’s a doctor it could be doable. But I want to meet him. Plan on bringing him to the event this weekend. And make sure he knows what he’s in for.”

“Will do!” My voice came out all kinds of chipper considering I was in the middle of weaving a catastrophic lie.

“Good.” There was still skepticism to her voice. “And I still want to see you here after class. Text me when you’re done for the day, so I know when to expect you.”

The call ended and the line went dead, Steve Nicks’ voice fading back onto my speakers.

I didn’t have time to enjoy the song. I arrived on campus, the place packed with hundreds and hundreds of students making their way to class and found a spot. When I parked and turned the engine off, I gave myself a moment to process just how pissed I was – pissed and a little scared.

When I was ready, I opened the door and stepped out, grabbing my bag from the passenger seat and storming toward class. Just like Grandma had always told me, I’d turn my negative emotions into something positive.

“Someone’s got her swagger on today.”

I stopped in my tracks, recognizing the familiar voice. I turned to see none other than Blake Williams, my study pal and fiercest competitor for the top student in our graduating class. As usual, he was dressed to impress, wearing skinny jeans that looked almost like denim leggings, flashy red, white, and yellow Air Force Ones, and a stylishly gaudy Hawaiian shirt. His hair was done up with blonde highlights, his face narrow and handsome as ever.

“Something like that,” I said.

He sashayed over to me his eyes skeptical.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s not swagger – that’s someone on the warpath. And knowing you…” his eyes lit up in his usual, theatrical way. “Did you have a shitty conversation with your parents again?”

He stepped to my side and together we started through campus, weaving our way around the thick knots of students gathered in groups here and there.

“Parent – singular. My mom thought this morning on the way here was the perfect time to have one of those conversations where she reminds me that my life is in her hands.”

“Ugh,” he said. “Your parents are too damn snobby for their own good. I know they’re your parents and all, but sorry-not-sorry for pointing it out.”

I could always count on Blake to give it to me straight.

“I just…I don’t know what to do. I’m busting my butt to try and make it on my own terms, but it’s like they get some kind of sick pleasure out of yanking the leash and letting me know that they’re the ones who’re really in control of my life.”

“All you have to do is stick with it,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “Once you’re out in the world and making your own money you can do anything you want! And we’re in oncology, hon. One of us is going to be number one in class and the other’s going to be number two. That means hospitals are going to be begging to hire us once we’re done with our residencies. If you can hold out for a few more years, you’ll have money and a career and all the freedom you’ve ever wanted.”

We reached the doors and Blake held them open for me. A tall, broad-shouldered guy in a tight, white T-shirt passed behind me, Blake giving him a once-over and an inviting smile as he did.

“Eyes on the prize, big guy,” I said with a smile.

“Sorry, sorry. But you know I’m right. We’re going to both be huge, huge successes, and all you have to do is keep kicking butt until you’re independent. It’s better than graduating with hundreds of thousands of dollars in student loans you’ll spend the next twenty years paying off.”

“Yeah, I have to keep kicking butt and also avoid all the guys my parents are trying to set me up with.”

“I know it’s hard,” he said. “But it’s not like they can force you to get married or something.”

“They can’t. But they can pull my tuition, which is basically the same thing.”

Blake pursed his lips. “Well, forget about all that for now, hon – we’ve got class to get to. You’re in the oncology lecture in room twenty-one, right?”

“Yep,” I said, taking out my phone and double-checking the email with my schedule to be on the safe side.

His face lit up as we continued down the hall. “Oh my God, you’re in for a treat. I was meeting with some other members of the LGBT Outreach Center on campus yesterday and they told me that the professor is like, beyond hot.”

I laughed. “Got your priorities in order, I see.”

“What?” he asked. “I mean, if we’re going to be staring at some dude for the next semester, he at least ought to be worth looking at, right? And shoot, he’s supposed to be one of the big oncology guys on campus – we’re probably going to have classes with him for the rest of the time we’re here.”

“I guess there’s nothing wrong with a little eye candy,” I admitted.

“That’s the spirit.” We approached the lecture hall, students streaming into the two doors that led inside. “The way I see it, you have to take the good things when you get them. And a hot professor is most definitely a good thing.”

We entered the hall, one of those huge, auditorium-style lecture rooms. It was a specialized class, so only about half the seats were full. Blake and I picked pair in the middle of the hall, about ten rows back from the empty lecture podium.

“But here’s the thing,” Blake said as we settled into our seats. “This guy is supposed to be a super strict, totally harsh grader. So, I guess it balances out – he’s hot, but a hard-ass…which is kind of hot in its own way, really.”

“Are you guys talking about Dr. Frost?”

One of the students in front of us turned around.

“Wait,” I asked, my eyes going wide. “Dr. Frost?”

“Yeah,” the student, a big-eyed, skinny girl with dark, frizzy hair said. “You’re right about him being a total hard-ass – this is my second time taking his class. Guy’s no joke. Just a word to the wise.”

The student turned around and Blake raised his eyebrows. “And there you have it. Guess I’m going to have to be on my best behavior.”

Dr. Frost. Could it have been possible that this was Dr. Logan Frost? What were the odds? My stomach tightened as the clock hit nine o’clock.

The doors leading to the hall from the faculty area opened, a tall, well-built man strolling in. He carried himself with total confidence, as if he had not the slightest worry about being the one in charge.

It was a confident stride I’d recognize anywhere. When he was close enough for me to see his face, I knew there was no mistaking him.

“You OK?” Blake asked, giving me a strange look. “Hey, Abby? You there?”

My eyes were on Dr. Frost as he took the podium, placing his big hands – big hands that had been all over my body- onto the surface.

“Good morning,” he said, opening his leather bag and taking out his laptop. “My name’s Dr. Logan Frost. And this is Introduction to Medical Oncology.”

He raised his eyes from his laptop, letting them rest on me.

Logan froze, and so did I.

Just like that, I knew this semester was about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.