Chapter 8
574 Words
8
Peter
I help Lydia with her software issue, fix a leaking faucet, and hang up a few decorations in the waiting area while two dozen women—many of them visibly pregnant—watch me in fascination.
As the only doctor here tonight, Sara has a never-ending stream of patients, so I don’t bother her. It’s enough to know that she’s just a couple of rooms away, and I can reach her in a minute if I need to.
Once all the basic tasks are done, I get to work assembling an ultrasound machine that a local hospital donated. I’ve never worked with medical equipment before, but I’ve always been good at putting things together—weapons, explosives, communication devices—so it’s not long before I figure out what goes where and how to test it to make sure it’s working.
“Oh my God, you’re a lifesaver, just like your wife,” Lydia exclaims when I show it to her. “We’ve been waiting for a technician to stop by for months, and oh, this is going to be so helpful! Sara is with her last patient now. Do you think you might have time to fix up this one cabinet, too? It’s been drooping and—”
“No problem.” I follow her to one of the exam rooms and add a few screws to make sure the cabinet in question doesn’t fall on anyone’s head.
“You are so good at this,” the receptionist gushes when I’m finished. “Did you ever work in construction, by any chance? You seem so practiced with that drill and all…”
“I worked on some construction projects as a teen,” I say without elaborating. This woman doesn’t need to know that the “projects” were forced labor in a youth version of a Siberian gulag.
“Oh, I thought so.” She beams at me. “Let me check if Sara is done.”
“Please.” I smile back at her. “I’d like to take my wife home.”
The receptionist hurries away, and I stretch my arms, releasing the stiffness in my muscles. It’s only been a few days, but I’m getting restless, eager to move and do something physical. After I made dinner, I went for a long run in the park and stopped by a boxing gym to work off some steam, but I need more.
I need a challenge of some kind.
For the first time, I seriously consider what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. Thanks to the Esguerra-Novak double gig, I have enough money for me, Sara, and a dozen kids/grandkids—particularly if we don’t get into the habit of buying private planes, specialized weapons, or other expensive props. I don’t have to work to support us, and I didn’t make any plans beyond getting Sara and binding her to me—partially because I’ve always enjoyed the downtime between jobs.
Now I’m starting to realize that was because I knew that the time off was temporary, that another challenging, adrenaline-filled mission was in my future. Now there’s nothing—just a series of calm, peaceful days stretching out into infinity.
Days where all I’m going to be doing is thinking about Sara and waiting for her to come home.
“Peter?” Sara pokes her head into the room, and a big smile lights her face when she lays her eyes on me. “I’m ready to go home if you are.”
“Let’s go,” I say, and shelve the problem for another day.
I’ll think about what to do with my time later.
For now, I’ve got my ptichka, and she’s all I need.
- Writer
