Calling Dr. Love (Chapter 24)
This fic may include the following: Blood, injuries of all shapes and sizes, descriptions of surgery, death, deceased persons, situations of sexual abuse, physical abuse, psychiatric issues and all the other horrific and/or hilarious shit you get to see as a healthcare worker. If you thought The Pitt was too graphic, this isnât for you. This is the only warning you will receive, there will be no chapter by chapter warnings. In the words of Sweet Brown 'Ain't nobody got time for that.'
âYou ever had shakshuka? Shit is incredible.âÂ
âAre you taking pictures of your food?â Maggie asks, taking a bite out of a spring roll.
Itâs been twenty years since she and Cam went to high school together. Itâs strange, looking at someone who you were close to when you were young, getting sunburnt and freckled at the pool, turning your hair a strange shade of orange with lemon juice and peroxide, to two women graying at the temples.Somehow, theyâve still ended up cramming themselves into a table with their food in a crowded space, likes its sophomore lunch. The Reading Market in Philly is massive, a veritable maze of eateries and vendors. Itâs packed, barely enough room to squeeze through the walkways between the crowds, clumps and lines of people. Somehow, they found a table, Cam landing with her Georgian food just after Maggie opened up her bag of Thai.Â
âIâmâŠtrying. Maybe too hard?â Cam cringes, sending the photo and flinching as she slaps her phone down on the table.Â
âTighe the terrifying, sending food pics.â Maggie says, smirking, finishing off her spring roll. Cam drops her fork and knife, cringing again.Â
âJesus.â Cam groans.Â
âYou scared the shit out of most of the football team. Remember when you get the quarterback a shiner?â Maggie laughs, taking a sip of her tea.Â
âIt was a wayward softball pitch in gym glass!â Cam cries.Â
âYou got asked by likeâŠ6 guys to go to prom.â Cam exclaims, going back to cutting into her bread dish.
âYou couldnât get a date to prom. I couldnât get a date to prom because we were friends.â
âThey were poseurs.â Maggie scoffs.Â
âThe guy with the liberty spike mohawk died orange wasnât punk enough for you? God, what was his name?â Cam asks, grinning now at her friend. Maggie had let a lot of her old piercings heal over, but she still had all her earrings, her lip, tongue and nose piercings.Â
âXavier. He was a total fucking poseur. He thought Sum41 was the peak of punk music.â Maggie scoffs, digging into her pad see ew.Â
âAh yes, because everyone knows the Dead Kennedys are really where itâs at.â Cam snorts over a mouth full of food.Â
âDonât besmirch my band.â Maggie cries, pointing her chopsticks at Cam across the table.Â
âHey, I always liked Bikini Kill.â Cam shrugs. Her phone buzzes on the table, making Cam jump. Cam goes to unlock her phone, but lifts her head to look at Maggie, who starts to giggle at Camâs visible embarrassment.
âThis is funnier than your crush on Bobby Boyd junior year. Whatâs this guy's name again?â Maggie asks, eyebrows raised.Â
âJack.â Cam says, wary of oversharing about a man sheâs only been on one actual date with, although it certainly feels like theyâve spent lots of time together.Â
âDo we have pictures of Jack?â Maggie asks, holding out her hand expectantly Cam realizes she has no idea how to get a photo of Jack, and then realizes he likely has a medical profile through PTMCâs website. After a bit of scrolling, Cam finds an older picture of Jack, unsmiling, in his white coat, something Cam couldnât imagine him wearing for even a moment. .Â
âItâs an older photo, butâŠâ Cam says, sliding her phone toward Maggie, increasingly embarrassed at her foolishness.Â
âBitch, is he a doctor? Holy shit! Here I am with an HVAC repairman for a husband and youâre out here getting doctors. Oh my God, do you work with him?â Maggie gasps, making Cam want to crawl under the table.Â
âNot really. Heâs not my superior. Heâs a night shift emergency room doc.â Cam explains, waving off Maggieâs conspiratorial gaze.Â
âDid he text you back?â Maggie asks, wiggling her eyebrows. Cam unlocks her phone again, going to her messages.Â
âI used to work with a doctor from Georgia. His wife made us cheeseboats and puff pastries for christmas one year. The E.D was insane that year with the flu but we ate like kings. Glad youâre having fun on your trip.âÂ
âYeah, nothing fantastic.â Cam says, sliding her phone over to Maggie and digging into her food in earnest.Â
âYou know whatâs missing from that?â Maggie asks, sliding her phone back. âThe part that says âI miss youâ.âÂ
âOh, shut up. Donât put those ideas in my head. Weâve been on one actual date. A date that got interrupted by Owen going to a psychiatric facility. Also, weâre gonna be late for that speaker about shade gardening.â Cam says, polishing off her shakshuka and packing up to leave the crowded market.Â
âSo, how is a guy that hot single?â Maggie asks, as they flow into the crowd of people heading into the convention center;s lecture area.Â
âHis wife died two years ago.â Cam replies softly, trying not to announce it to the crowd mingling before the speaker starts.Â
âOooh, hot widower.â Maggie teases, making Cam shush her as they sit on the end of a row of older women. âDid you text him back?âÂ
âNo. not yet.â Cam says, rooting through her purse for nher phone. âI was going to send him a picture of the lecture slide.â Â
âEw thatâs boring. You should send him a hot photo. Something with your boobs.â Maggie mumbles.
âOh my God! Margaret!â Cam shrieks softly.Â
âCamilla, your boobs are great, and Iâm sure he would appreciate them. You should be more flirty.â Maggie scoffs, shimmying her shoulders at Cam as she nearly sinks to the carpeted floor of the convention center in shame.Â
â---------------------------------------------------
They spend the rest of the day at the convention center, heading back to the hotel when Maggie has to call home.Â
âIf I donât call Eric and the kids, theyâre gonna freak out. Last time I went out for cocktails with some coworkers, I didnât call home, the kids wouldnât go to bed. I crawl out of an Uber at midnight, and my fucking kids are still awake. I love them, but Jesus Christ theyâre fucking weird.â Maggie sighs, pressing her phone to her ear. âHiii baby! Whereâs dad? Can you put me on speaker?â Maggie coos, the tone of her voice becoming soft and saccharine.Â
Cam unlocks her phone, pacing to the back of the small double suite to give Maggie some space. Sheâs been trying hard not to check her phone every two minutes, but now, it seems like thereâs time to indulge in living like a desperate tween.Â
âI just got here an hour ago and already couldâve used your talented hands.âÂ
A wave of heat climbs up Camâs neck, making her lock her phone and put it down on the desk next to the window. Maggie waves at her silently, phone still pressed to her ear, making strange faces at Cam across the room. Cam waves her off, digging through her duffel bag for clothes for dinner.
âOkay, Mom has to go eat dinner with her friend! Love you guys!â Maggie calls through her phone with a chipper voice. She drops the phone and raises her eyebrows at Cam.Â
âYouâre beet red, bitch.â Maggie snorts.Â
âShut up.â Cam huffs back. âWhere are we going for dinner again?â
â--------------------------------------------------------
âMaggie, this place had better be worth it.â Cam sighs, standing out in the chill. The restaurant is so small thereâs noÂ
room to wait inside without being squeezed. Theyâve been standing around, watching drunk people stumble out of the building for nearly an hour.Â
âItâs worth it. Iâll order, itâs gonna be great. See? Theyâre calling me right now.â Maggie says, digging her phone out of her coat pocket.Â
The crush of the crowd in the restaurant is worse the further back they go, sliding into a tiny table that Cam feels like sheâs being put in the cockpit of a plane. Maggie orders swiftly for them, before draping her jacket over her chair.Â
âSo, did you text Jack back?â Maggie asks as the waiter fills their water glasses and Maggie scoots her chair in further. Cam shakes her head, going for her water. Cam asks questions about the kids, distracting Maggie into talking about Oliviaâs obsession with horses and Danielâs new fascination with heavy machinery.Â
âMy living room TV is nothing but youtube videos of CAT excavators. I wake up at 7am on a Saturday to the sound of âBeep! Beep! Beep! Beep!â of some asshole on the internet backing up an excavator in a construction site. I thought our neighbor's house was getting knocked down.â Maggie laughs.Â
âHere we are, ladies.â The server announces, deftly swinging the two dishes onto the table, a large plate of chicken and a gleaming mussel pot. Thereâs a mountain of short, skinny fries accompanying it, the small table now fully occupied. Maggie and Cam both thank the waiter, and begin to sort through the dishes.Â
âOooh. I got it. Hold on.â Maggie says, rearranging the table, moving the mussels closer to Cam and sliding the chicken wings back toward herself. âUnbutton that button of your shirt.â Maggie orders.Â
âWhat?â Cam asks, confused.Â
âFluff that side of your hair and unbutton the next button on your shirt, Iâm going to take a sexy picture you can send to Jack.â Maggie insists, now grabbing Camâs phone off the table.Â
âJesus.â Cam huffs, but obliges, her fingers fumbling with the tiny button of her blouse.Â
âPick up the water glass. There you go. Smile. Not that smile. A âfuck meâ smile.âÂ
âWhat is aââ Cam interrupts, brow furrowing.Â
âShut up. Think of that time that Bobby Boyd rejected you and tried to push you in the pool but you threw him in instead.â Maggie blurts quickly, taking several photos. Maggie hands Camâs phone back, and Cam barely recognizes the woman in the photos. She seems poised, smart and definitely sexy. Thereâs a bushel of cleavage showing and Cam wants to delete it, but she turns the phone away from herself.Â
âWhat do I say back?â Cam asks, as Maggie starts digging into the fries. Maggie takes the phone back, looking at Cam.Â
âCan I send it for you?â Maggie asks, eyebrows raised as she grabs another fry.Â
âYes.â Cam says begrudgingly. Maggie slides the phone back to Cam, who is far too worried about what Maggie just sent to start on dinner.Â
âSorry, my talented hands are occupied tonight.âÂ
â----------------------------------------------------------
The Pitt is buzzing, the standard Friday night regulars mixed with the stray true emergencies. Abbot is trying hard to keep up on charting in between supervising residents and the still very young Dr. Shen. His phone buzzes, making him pull it out of his cargo pocket and squint slightly at the notification screen. He unlocks it, seeing a photo of Cam, bathed in warm orange light, obviously taken by her friend. His mouth starts to go a bit dry, looking at the message and the accompanying photo.Â
âWhat the fuck am I supposed to say to that?â He mumbles softly, before turning his phone face down on the desk, trying hard to get his focus back.Â















