Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Nursing is hardly a guarantee,” Dinah says. “You know that just as well as I do. It’s a tough job on the best day. When someone comes here, it might be the worst day of their life. The worst day of their family’s life. And we do what we can to help them. It’s what we do.”
“The doctors help them,” I say. “We just fill out paperwork and give shots.”
Dinah cocks her head. “Nurses are the backbone of any hospital. Without us, the doctors wouldn’t be able to do their jobs.”
I look into Dinah’s eyes, really look into them. “When did you know that this was what you wanted to do? Like, did you receive some kind of sign, have some sort of experience?”
Dinah smiles. “You know I was born in Vietnam. Moved here with my parents when I was three.”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“My dad picked up some bug on the journey over. It hit right as we got to the States. He ended up going to the doctor. He had to take me with him because Mom was out looking for a job. I remember seeing all the pretty ladies in nurse uniforms. They gave him medicine and made him better.”
“And you wanted to do that for other people.”
Dinah nods. “I wanted to heal. Breathe life back into people who are racked with pain. Figure out what was wrong with them and give them a magical pill to make them better, just like they did with my dad.”
“Why didn’t you become a doctor, then?”
She chuckles. “Like I said. The nurses do all the real work. When I went to the doctor with Dad, the nurses were the ones who talked to him, administered medication. The doctor just came by for two minutes and looked over all the work they did. Even at just three years old, I could tell who helped my dad the most.”
I close my eyes, take a deep breath in, and sigh it out. When I open my eyes, Dinah is still smiling. “I’m so glad you found your calling, Dinah.”
She grabs my hand, squeezes it. “And I’m glad you found yours, Liss.”
I smile at her, but I don’t mean it.
Because Dinah… She did find her calling. There’s no doubt about it.
But I’m not so sure I found mine.
Winters in Chicago are brutal. Especially when you’re close to the lake, which I am. A good blast of frosty wind will find its way through multiple layers of coats, sweaters, and scarves.
I walk five blocks east to the L, take the Red Line north to Uptown. Ten stops. I get off and start to head to my apartment.
And something stops me.
I’ve lived in this neighborhood for a few years now, and I’ve only ever seen what exists between the train stop and my apartment. A few restaurants, a coffee shop, and my hairdresser are all on the straight line I walk on the final stretch of my evening commute. There’s a CVS and a grocery store, too. Everything I need is in this small half-mile walk, and I’ve never seen fit to diverge from it.
But tonight of all nights, despite the chill of the wind and the patches of snow on the ground, I do something different.
A block before I hit the street I live on, I turn left. Then right. Another left. Another left. I zigzag for a mile or so, just seeing what’s in the area.
I pass an Indian restaurant. I love Indian, but I never have it delivered. How have I not noticed that this place is within walking distance of my apartment? I take a deep breath in and enjoy the enchanting aroma of spices coming from inside. If I didn’t already have a chicken breast thawing in my fridge for tonight’s dinner, I’d go in and order take-out.
Next I walk by a small theater, apparently about to mount a production of the musical Cabaret. Produced by a company called the Windy City Players. I love Cabaret—it’s one of my favorites. I stop by the box office and look at the show dates. I don’t buy a ticket, but I take a mental note to buy a ticket online once I get home.
And then I happen upon a shop that makes me squint.
Hathaway Haberdashery.
Haberdashery. I’ve heard that word before, but I never quite knew what it meant. I think it’s some kind of clothing store.
A blast of wind nearly knocks me off my feet. I really should go home.
But haberdashery is such a fun word. A good combination of syllables.
And I’m trying something new.
At the very least, I want to find out what a haberdashery is.
So on a whim, I walk inside.
2
MADDOX
I yawn and stretch my arms over my head.
It’s been a boring day.
Most days are, especially in the winter. I’m lucky to get a baker’s dozen of customers between January and March. I get a pretty big bump in customers right before Christmas—people shopping for their dads or husbands—but other than that, it’s usually just too damned cold in the Midwest for people to venture outside of their homes for anything other than the necessities.