Roots

Brad anxiously adjusted his watch impatiently as he leaned on the hospital reception desk counter. The past 12 hours or so had been a blur of faceless nurses, doctors, tests and scans. But there was only one memory of the past 24 hours that stood unblurred. The dark-haired female EMT that tended to him at the scene of the accident and in the ambulance. 

He must have been in quite a daze to at the very least not get her name. He'd need that for a start, if he was to have any peace of mind 

The hospital receptionist at the desk, a middle-aged handsome woman, with curly brown hair pulled into a loose bun, glanced up from her computer screen. Her name tag read 'Sarah'. 

"Can I help you with something, Mr. Callahan?" she asked, curiously raising an eyebrow. 

In his few hours at the hospital, he had already made quite an impression on some of the female staff. 

He couldn't help it…he was simply wired that way.

Brad hesitated for a second, then, ran his hand through his hair — a bad habit he was looking to drop soon 

"Hey, beautiful, actually, yes. The female 

paramedic? The one who helped me the night of my accident? I was hoping to meet her and thank her before I checked out."

Sarah flashed a sly knowing smile. "Tall? Short blonde hair? Dreamy green eyes? mmnh? Mr. Callahan, you naughty boy"

Brad smiled and shook his head slowly.

"No, not blond, no green eyes either. She was about yay tall", He gestured mid-chest. "Brown hair and deep brown eyes, almost black in some light, even." 

"With a deepish kinda voice."

He could clearly remember her voice softening as she checked his pulse and how she had whispered surprisingly sweet words of reassurance as he slipped in and out of consciousness.

Sarah's smile widened. "I see, I believe you're talking about Clair." 

Clair. 

The name danced around in his mind like a new hit single on repeat. 

"Yes, Clair," he replied. He could vaguely remember her partner calling her name at some point.

Sarah leaned further forward on the counter, studying Brad, with an amused expression on her face. "You've got good taste, Mr Callahan, she's one of the best EMTs here." 

"Is she around?" 

"She's on duty, but she's busy," Sarah replied. Then she added, "What that means is no, you can't conveniently run into her on your way out." 

Brad chuckled. "Alright, fair enough." He tapped his fingers on the desk. "Say, Sarah, can you do me a favor?" 

Sarah crossed her arms and smiled. 

"Oh, Mr Callahan" she purred, "I thought you'd never ask." 

Brad couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Jesus, Sarah, you can make a man blush."

"I try my best," she replied with a warm smile. "So what's this favor?"

 He pulled out his phone, scrolled briefly, then handed her the screen. "I'm having these sent over, could you please make sure she gets them? 

Sarah glanced down at the screen in her hand and read out loud; 

"Thanks for catching me. – Brad.

She let out a low whistle. "You're a smooth one aren't you?" 

Brad shrugged. "It's just a thank you." 

Sarah gave him a skeptical look but nodded. "Alright, I'll make sure she gets them." 

As Brad turned to leave, he cast one last glance toward the emergency department. He didn't know why he felt this pull toward her, but something told him this wouldn't be the last time they crossed paths. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The hospital was a bit more quiet than usual that afternoon, you could hear the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights overhead. Clair scanned through a patient's chart at the nurses' station, her mind preoccupied with the usual workload. 

"Well, well," Sarah's voice rang from behind her. "Looks like someone has an admirer." 

Clair turned, with a surprised look on her face, as Sarah set an extravagantly beautiful large bouquet of lilies and roses on the counter between them. The fragrance threatened to swallow the entire hall. 

Clair stared at the flowers. "What's all this then?" 

Sarah grinned and handed her the attached note. 

Clair hesitated, glancing suspiciously at Sarah, then opened the card.

"Thanks for catching me. – Brad."

She exhaled sharply through her teeth, feeling a strange tightness in her chest, for the second time this week.

"The north remembers", she thought 

Sarah leaned in. "Alright, let's have it. What's the story there?" 

Clair shook her head. "There's no story. I brought him in last night, after a minor accident. He's just a patient, that's it." 

Sarah smirked. "Nuh-huh. If so, why haven't I ever had a patient send me flowers?" "That's because they usually don't, at least not ones this beautiful anyway. These things look like they could pay me for a month or two, minimum."

Clair closed the card and tucked it into her pocket. "He's just trying to be grateful." 

Sarah studied her for a moment, then shrugged. "If you say so." 

Clair was smart enough to know how to handle herself, she thought, even as she watched her keep the card and flowers.

Clair turned back to her work, but her eyes kept drifting to the flowers. 

It had been a long time since anyone had sent her flowers.

Two Weeks Later.

Clair stepped out of the hospital, the cool evening air filling her tired lungs. She was exhausted from her shift, her shoulders felt like they were having a headache. She shuffled in her bag searching for her keys, and just as she was about to head toward the parking lot, just opposite the main entrance, a familiar figure leaning against an also familiar SUV caught her attention. 

"Dammit," she muttered, exhaling through her clenched teeth.

Brad. 

Her heart skipped, though she told herself it was just the surprise of seeing him again. He looked effortlessly handsome, dressed in a grey button-down shirt with rolled-up sleeves, revealing those strong-looking forearms she remembered only too well. He straightened when he saw her and beckoned her to come over, a slow smile spreading across his lips. 

Her car was just two cars behind his, she'd literally have to walk by him to get to her exit. 

"Dammit," she exhaled through her teeth, braced herself and moved forward.

"You're a difficult woman to get a hold of," he said, as soon as she was a couple of feet in front of him.

"I've been waiting here all afternoon, good thing I had nothing better to do."

Clair crossed her arms – again in defense of what she knew not – keeping her distance. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" 

"Maybe." He studied her, his blue eyes dancing with amusement. "Did you like the flowers?" 

"They were unnecessary," she said, though she hadn't been able to throw them away. 

Brad smirked. "That's not a no." 

Clair exhaled, shaking her head. "Why are you here, Brad?" 

"Dammit," she muttered to herself, she shouldn't be on a first name basis with this man.

"To thank you properly." He stepped closer, covering the distance between them, and lowering his voice. "And to see if I could convince you to have dinner with me." 

She swallowed, "I don't think that's a good idea." 

"Why not?" 

Because I shouldn't even be standing here talking to you like this, She thought to herself.

Instead, she hesitated before saying, "I have a really crazy schedule." 

Brad tilted his head. "That doesn't exactly sound like a no." 

She sighed. "Brad—" 

"Just dinner," he interrupted. "I'm not asking for anything." You saved my life, Clair. At the very least let me pay back the favor with a good meal." 

She hesitated, her pulse quickening. The usually calm and friendly voice in her head screamed this time, telling her to walk away. But another part of her—the part that had felt neglected for a long time now—whispered back, "it's just dinner, no harm there." 

She opened her mouth, then closed it. "I don't think I can." 

Brad sensing her internal struggle and not wanting to press further, nodded in silent acceptance.

Then, his nod turned into a small grin 

He wouldn't be as successful as he was if he didn't know how to strike a deal and draw out a yes from a hundred Noes. And one Yes was all he needed.

"Then let me send dinner to you instead," he said. 

Clair blinked. "What?" 

"If you won't go out with me, at least let me make sure you have a good meal waiting for you after a long shift," he said, pulling out his phone. "What's your favorite takeout?" 

She hesitated. "You don't have to do that." 

"I know." His grin turned to a smile. "But I want to." 

She opened her mouth to retort, but no excuse came. And therein lay the problem—maybe didn't "want" to make an excuse. 

Finally giving in, she sighed. "Thai. Spicy." 

"What's your address?" Brad asked.

She hesitated.

He looked up from his phone, "Don't worry, it's for the delivery." 

"It's 467 Drewery Lane." 

After a few scrolls and taps on his phone, Brad looked up with satisfaction. "It's done. Expect a delivery at seven." 

Clair shook her head and exhaled through her teeth, "You're very persistent." 

"Not really, I just don't like taking no for an answer especially when I'm trying to pay my debts", he smiled at her charmingly, before opening the car door.

"Goodnight, Clair." 

As she walked down to her car, she could still feel the piercing gaze of his eyes on her back. 

She ought to have trashed the flowers. She ought to have turned him down and not given in, not even an inch. 

She ought to have told him the truth.

But she didn't. 

It had been a long time since anyone had looked at her that way or made her feel the way he made her feel.

Maybe she could enjoy this for a minute, just a minute, surely, no harm in that.