Page 13 of Quake
“Thanks, it actually is,” I tell her proudly. “My dad and I had the color customized so it would be exactly the same.”
She appraises me quietly for a moment, a slight grin tugging at her pouty lips. “You’re just full of surprises,” she says, a twinkle dancing in her eyes. She nods her chin toward the door. “Well, let’s head inside before we freeze our butts off.”
I nod, following her in through the glass door. A bell overhead chimes at our entrance, and a short woman with dark hair approaches us from behind the counter. “Table for two?” she asks.
“Yes, please,” Kat answers, and we follow behind her, taking a seat at a small booth at the back of the restaurant.
Once we’re seated, she hands us the menus and asks for our drink order. “Just water for me, please,” I respond.
“Me too.” The woman nods, heading back to the kitchen.
“Any suggestions for what to order?” I ask her, taking in the huge menu.
“Well, I haven’t been here specifically, but Thai is one of my favorite foods. I usually try the pad thai, drunken noodles, and panang curry at every Thai place so I can adequately see how they all match up against one another.”
“I don’t really know what drunken noodles are, but I’m up for trying literally anything you want,” I tell her, setting the menu back down on the table.
“You want to do it family style and just split those three things so you can try everything?” she offers.
“Sounds like a plan.” My stomach rumbles at the thought. I haven’t eaten as much as I should have today.
The waitress heads toward us with two waters on her tray. “Sorry, I just need to check something real quick,” I tell Kat, grabbing for my phone.
I’ve got a headache, and I hadn’t really realized how little I’ve eaten today. I open up my glucose monitor app and wait for it to process the information. The number seventy-four flashes across the screen, and the dreaded arrow points down, indicating a drop in my blood glucose trend. I can’t help but groan.Can’t I just get through one day without having to play this game with my blood sugars?
Tucking my phone away, I look up at the waitress as she places the waters on our table. “I’m so sorry, but do you mind if I also get a Coke?”
Her cherry-red lips curve into a small smile. “Not at all. Would you like to place your order now as well?”
“Yeah, I think we’re ready.” Kat smiles warmly at the woman before listing off each item. Apparently, she gets everything with egg and extra tofu.
“You have diabetes?” she asks me after the woman saunters away toward the back.
She catches me off guard, but I answer truthfully. My stomach is unsettled as I think about her boyfriend’s horrid behavior compared to how kind she’s been. I really don’t want to hurt her, but if I were her, I’d want to know.
I do my best to clear the thoughts away, but it doesn’t ease my discomfort any. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
“You checked your phone, looked kind of worried, and decided to order a sugary beverage, so I took a look at your arms and noticed the small bump from your glucose monitor on your tricep.”
My brows crease. “You’re oddly perceptive, but yeah, I have type 1.”
“I’m a physician assistant, so I’m used to having to take in every detail about a person to create a full picture. I also have anxiety, so I’m hyperaware of the actions of those around me.”I can tell.A lot of her behavior strikes me as sort of odd, but it doesn’t bother me at all. In a lot of ways, she reminds me of my friend Jade.
“That all makes sense, actually.” I chuckle. “Do you like what you do?”
She dips her head just as the waitress delivers my drink. I thank her and take several small sips, waiting for Kat to respond.
“I love it. I love helping people, making a difference in their lives, and getting to walk them through some of the most vulnerable experiences they’ll ever have, but it’s physically and emotionally taxing. Some days, I have no idea how I wound up here, but then I work with a patient or get to help a family that changes my whole day, and it’s easy to remember my ‘why,’ so to speak.” It’s genuinely refreshing to hear someone talk about their career the same way I do about mine.
“That’s really lovely, Kat. I’m glad you’ve found your calling. Gianni must be really proud of you,” I prod, and the way her brows cinch together makes me question whether that hit a nerve or something else entirely.
She narrows her eyes at me slightly but brushes my comment off, asking, “How about you? Do you love being a veterinarian?”
My face lights up at the change of subject to something more familiar. “I wake up every single day excited to go to work, honestly. This is all I’ve ever wanted to do, the only thing I’ve ever even considered.” My hands flail around as I speak. “Even as a kid, I had a project in elementary school that required me to take a photo of myself acting out my day in my dream career,” I say, beaming at her.
She smiles at me. “That’s sweet. What’d you do for the project?”
“Well, my mom helped me make a book that read, ‘The Day In The Life of A Veterinarian.’ I sat on the couch, holding it up as if I were reading the blank pages inside, and sat beside my old dog at the time. His name was Buddy Bear, but he was nobody’sbuddybut mine.” I laugh. “He bit every person who walked by for years. He’d manage to get off his leash or his lead in the yard and go running around the neighborhood. He was hit by a carthreedifferent times, but somehow, he was never seriously injured.” Her salt-and-pepper eyebrows shoot up her forehead.