Love On Call

Mari didn’t, but enjoyed teasing Glenn. Enjoyed a conversation that had nothing to do with death, dying, or pain. “Will there be dancing girls?”

Glenn hesitated, brows drawn down as if thinking. “Dammit. I knew there was something I forgot to do. I don’t suppose you and Carrie are free?”

“Oh,” Mari said, rolling her eyes, “I never took you for such a big dreamer.”

Glenn’s eyes darkened. “No, neither did I. But you know, nothing ever stays the same.”

Mari swallowed. “I know. Change is scary, though.”

Glenn ran her hand down Mari’s arm and cradled her fingers in her palm. Her thumb swept over the top of Mari’s hand, as swift and light as a kiss.

Mari’s lips instantly tingled as if she had been kissed.

“Not knowing can be scary, I understand that,” Glenn murmured.

“I know you do.” Mari wet her lips, searching and failing to find the words she wanted, but needing to keep the fragile connection alive, if just for another minute. “I was actually going to ask you out to dinner, but I see that you’ve already got much more exciting plans.”

“Hardly more exciting, but I’m designated driver and I can’t back out on them this time.”

“Rain check?” Mari’s heart actually thudded in her ears. She hadn’t thought that possible.

Glenn glanced down the hall, checking they were still alone. Dinner, maybe more. Was that what she wanted? All she wanted? She’d recalled the hours with Mari every night when she tried to sleep, the second she opened her eyes every morning, and every time she saw her in the ER. She’d thought a lot about what Margie Rivers had said to her in the truck too, about strength being the other side of fear. Mari was strong, she had to be to survive what she’d survived, to endure the separation from her family, to face an uncertain future. Glenn respected her for that. She understood the fear that kept Mari from hope too. She understood that war of duty and sacrifice, and she loved her for all of it. In the quiet of the long hours alone, she came to understand herself too. She loved Mari and, for the first time in her life, wasn’t afraid of what that meant. “I learned something this week.”

“What?” Mari whispered.

“Remember I told you I learned to live in the now in the war?”

Mari nodded.

“I didn’t just learn it there. I learned it growing up, when I figured out I had nobody on my side but myself. That making it through one day was a victory, and not looking ahead, not counting on anyone or anything, was the only way to avoid disappointment.”

“I’m so sorry,” Mari murmured.

“That’s okay, it got me through and made me tough. Made me who I am. And I did count on a few people. I counted on my unit, I counted on Flann and Harp and the rest of the Riverses.” Glenn blew out a breath. More than she’d realized. “But you taught me something more.”

Mari’s heart beat in her throat so fast, so full, she wasn’t sure she could speak. “Me? What did I teach you?”

“You taught me that every day, lived to the fullest, is just one link in the chain of forever. That it’s safe to go to sleep and believe in the sunrise. You made me believe that when I open my eyes, everything that matters to me will still be there. I want that to be you, Mari. And I want you to believe that I’ll be there for you.”

“I…I don’t know if I can. Believe.” Mari grabbed Glenn’s hand. “But you make me wish I could.”

Glenn nodded. “I know that too. But you know what? I’m patient, and I’ll wait.”

“That’s not fair. To you, I mean.”

Glenn smiled, a rakish smile that carried no hint of sadness. “No one ever said life was fair, but it is what we make it. What we choose. I choose you, Mari.”

Before Mari could answer, Glenn leaned forward and kissed her, just as she did everything—filled with certainty and strength. Mari gripped her scrub shirt, leaned into her.

Antonelli cleared his throat. “Zapata tried to give me the runaround until I suggested Flann could handle things just as easily as him. He’ll be here in half an hour.”

Glenn took her time stepping back, glanced over her shoulder at Antonelli. “You’re learning.”

Antonelli looked between Mari and Glenn and flashed his lady-killer smile. “Yes, ma’am. I am.”

“Well,” Glenn said, her gaze on Mari. “I’d best head out. Don’t want them to have too much fun without me.”

“You’ll want to see to the dancing girls as well,” Mari said teasingly.

“Oh yes. I won’t forget that.” Glenn took a step, looked back. “Call me, anytime.”

Mari watched her walk away, her heart full and her soul in turmoil. Could she let her go? Did she dare try to keep her?

*