Sarah stared straight ahead at the wall in front of her, but she wasn't seeing it. She couldn't hear the bustle of the hospital as people shouted orders, questions, and answers. She couldn't smell the bleach with vomit undertones. Nothing in her body felt real or solid. Her entire being was caught up with replaying a specific seventeen minute loop.
A figure passed in front of her face and she didn't acknowledge it until they bent over in front of her.
"Doctor Young?"
She snapped back to reality, looking at the concerned nurse's face. She put on a smile onto her face, "you know you don't need to call me that, Registered Nurse Jenny Patters."
They had been on a first name basis ever since Sarah was a resident and had helped Jenny clean up shit from a particularly runny patient, and the nurse, who was an older woman had told her, "it doesn't matter the letters you got, we all still gotta deal with this shit."
"You lost someone," Jenny said in the present.
Sarah nodded mutely. "I... I mean, we were probably going to lose him anyway. Car accident. Practically dead on arrival. But, we actually stabilized him for a while. And then he slipped away. I... fucked up. I actually thought he was okay, so when... I'm sorry, you're just about to go on, right?"
"And you're off," Jenny noted. "What're you doing here?"
"I changed into some normal clothes, and I just wanted to sit for a bit before driving, but..." she checked her watch. "God, I've been here for like an hour."
"Do you need a ride home? I could call you an Uber," Jenny said.
Sarah stood up immediately, taking a deep breath. "No! No, I'm fine now. I mean, I think I just need to go home and lie down for a bit. Binge the rest of Black Mirror."
"Ugh," Jenny shook herself. "That's too dark for me."
"Really? I find it comforting to see make-believe fucked up stuff as opposed to the real stuff. I'll be fine," Sarah reached out her arms, and the two women hugged. "Thanks for checking on me. Sorry for worrying you."
"Take care. You're one of the good ones," Jenny said. "You actually do shit."
Jenny walked further in as Sarah walked out of the building into the parking garage. With shaking fingers, she pulled out her phone. She opened a text message to Jay. A record of their conversation was preserved there when he asked if she wanted to see a movie, and the banality of it seemed alien to her.
You wanna catch a movie later?
Got a shift tomorrow, so just wanna relax. Maybe after I get out?
Ah, I'm seeing someone that night. We'll figure it out.
Ooooh. Have fun. [Banana Emoji] [Peach Emoji] The peach is an ass.
Yeah. I got that.
The banana is a cock.
Yeah. I figured that out too. Doesn't take an MD to do that.
I'm implying you might be engaged in anal intercourse in the future.
Oh no, I think the lectures necessary. Trust me, I'm a doctor.
Someone's being a brat.
[Heart emoji]
She typed out, "Daddy, I really need to see you. I know you might be busy, and that's okay if you are."
She got to her car, sat down, started the engine, and put on some Taylor Swift. She started to browse through Facebook, trying hard not to feel like she was simply waiting for him to respond and how desperately she wanted him to. It felt pathetic and pitiful, because as an adult, a fucking doctor, no less, she had an array of coping mechanisms to rely upon. And... she would go start doing them if he was busy. No big deal.
Yes, any minute now, she could go... deal with this.
She swallowed, liking a picture of her friend Dan's new baby. Began reading an article about the new tax bill. She thought about the looming stack of laundry at home that was surely sentient and planning world domination by now.
Her phone vibrated and a message popped up. "Daddy needs an hour, but then I'll be ready for my special little girl. Go to Scola's, and order a penne rustico or whatever you want. No alcohol. Bring headphones in. Watch some Steven Universe on your phone, or watch whatever you want. Be a good girl and nothing MA or R-Rated. If you're hungry, eat some, if you're not, take it to go. Then come over. It's okay if you're late. Text when you're leaving the restaurant."
Sarah licked her chapped lips and nodded as she read the instructions. She reached into her purse and pulled out a bracelet. It was a little metal plate that said "believe" on it, and was tied together with a bright, baby blue braid. It was frankly a little tacky, and suitable for a starry-eyed middle schooler. It clashed horrifically with her young professional attire, mostly in shades of dark olive, but she smiled at it faintly. Everything was just a series of easy steps now.
Put the car in reverse. Back up. Put the car in drive. Remember where she was going. Think about how to go there. Begin driving there.
She took a deep breath and let it slowly ease out as she began to do what she had been told.
* * *
She knocked on his door.
When he opened it, she planned to say hello, or some sort of salutation like an adult human would do, but instead just walked forward until he wrapped his arms around her.
"What do you need?" he said into her ear.
"I want to go to my room and play," she replied. "With you."
He stepped back, a hand lingering at her wrist. Jay was an older man, almost in his 50s. While he still ran most days, he was doing so with a gut. Around the perimeter of his face was a trim of facial hair, more grey than black. He had smile lines around his eyes that had grown more prominent in the last few years. He had black hair that was turning silver, with a lighter patch around his temples. He dressed well when they played, and tonight was no exception. He wore black slacks, black socks, and black dress shoes. On top, he had a white dress shirt and grey vest.
"Of course," he said, looking her over. "Go on in, and I'll head up too. You want some hot chocolate?"
She nodded and walked past him, barely able to get out a yes.
The playroom was obviously a guest bedroom / fuck dungeon. There was a queen-sized bed with a duvet cover that bore an inoffensive floral pattern and lilac-colored pillow cases. There was a full-length mirror on a wooden stand in the corner that could be angled to face the bed. There was a tasteful little night stand and a suitcase on the bed.
She opened the suitcase and saw a selection of clothes there. She took a deep breath and began to change.
When she finished, she assessed herself in the mirror. She had done up her wavy brown hair in pigtails and then decided against it, letting it hang to her shoulders. The jeans she picked had silver sparkling bits on it, particularly on the rear pockets, as well as a big swoopy design up her left leg. The shirt had the words and symbol "I [Heart] Daddy" on it, ordered from Etsy because no real teenager would wear such a thing.
There was a knock on the door. "Sweetie?"
"Come in," she said.
He came in with a mug of hot cocoa and set it down. He looked at the bed and noticed the clear lack of toys on it. Normally, she selected things for them to play with. He nodded, as if making a mental note and sat down on the bed, patting next to himself. "Tell me about your day," he said.
She didn't sit down. She balled up her fists, her legs shoulder-width apart as she stared him in the eyes. "I fucked up today."
"Language," he said, raising a finger in gentle admonishment.
Not breaking eye contact, she repeated defiantly. "I FUCKED up today."
He stood up with a disappointed look on his face, "young lady. You know better than that."
She stood her ground as he walked up to her. "Totally fucked it up, down, and around," she said, smirking. "I fucked up today so bad, that it smoked a cigarette after I fucked it."
He shook her head at her, but she could see the hint of a smile on his lips. "Tongue," he demanded.
She swallowed, but presented her tongue, sticking it out.
Methodically, he pulled up her shirt collar, and rubbed it on her tongue. And then pinched it between his thumb and forefinger.
"Uuuck!" She said.
"Young lady, you get this tongue back when you learn to behave. None of that language. Talk like a good girl."
Sarah tried to pull away, but his grip was firm enough and it only made it hurt. She squirmed, but he grabbed the back of her head with his other hand and kept her steady. Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she made a deliberate effort to annunciate as clearly as possible in the circumstances.
"Uck! Uoofff!"
He pulled at her tongue so that she was forced to follow it onto the bed, crawling on all fours and then down into a prone position as he pulled her head down. She saw him look around the bed and then looked up. She laughed, drooling onto the bed. No toys. He was expecting something, but she made the rules concerning what they play with. He figured out the how.
"Honey," he said, "I feel as if you're testing my patience on purpose."
She gave him her best 'who me?' look, shrugging.
"Okay," he said, letting go of her tongue. She ran it around in her mouth to get it wet again.
