Trish stepped off the elevator and turned into the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. She had two patients to check on. One was waiting on a liver, while the other was recovering from surgery. Once inside the PICU, she stepped into the post transplant room. The four-year-old had an unknown infection that had caused her liver failure.

With a smile on her face, she said, "Hi Evelyn."

The little one looked sleepy on the bed but her eyes tracked Trish's movements as she walked past the exhausted mom and rubbed her back. "How are you holding up?" Max taught her that supporting the parents helped the patient.

"I'm okay." The mom gave her a half smile.

"Have you eaten today?"

"Earlier. When will she stay awake more?"

Her intubation tube had just been removed. "It's gradual. Her little body is fighting to accept the organ and heal." She turned to her patient and checked her incision and pupils. Already her color was good. Scanning her vitals, she smiled. A lot could go wrong including infection or her body rejecting the organ. "Things are looking good. Let's focus on that. I'll be in the hospital until at least six." Probably later.

When she stepped out of the room, she had a smile on her face. A very sick child was recovering thanks to the gift of a living donation.

Her next patient was still very sick. Machines beeped in the room as the nurse adjusted the IV drip. The mother looked as sick as the tiny patient. Without a matching living donor, they had to wait on a deceased donor. Although the urgency had bumped up his priority, the clock was ticking. Trish wanted nothing more than to get the call to scrub in for the extensive surgery. She didn't spend any time thinking about how it took a death to give life.

She felt a presence behind her and turned to see Dr. Putnam. He smiled. "Hello Dr. Jacobsen."

She nodded and turned back to the patient. As she did, she caught the nurse's eye. Trish had seen the smile before. It meant: he's so cute, hot, sexy. Fill in the blank. She agreed; in some ways, he reminded her of Max, although he was shorter and wasn't a surgeon.

When she finished examining the patient, she squeezed the mother's shoulder and then turned to leave. Once out of the darkened room, she squinted in the light.

"Hey Trisha. Wait up."

She turned to see the good-looking doctor. "What's up, Putty."

"No word on a liver?" His face looked grim. He cared.

"Not yet. I keep hoping."

"We still haven't grabbed that drink."

She smiled. "You should meet my neighbor."

He shook his head. "And you should meet my cousin, but I'd like to get to know you myself."

"There's nothing to know. I work and I work."

"Yeah, me too, but you're not a fellow anymore."

There had been an imaginary line in place even though he wasn't her proctor. Still, she had been a student, and he was on staff. "Half the hospital wants to date you."

He smirked. "I said a drink."

She wasn't delusional. Only Mick stuck to friends, even Jonathan crossed the line. She sighed. That man was more persistent than Putty. Somehow she agreed to go to lunch with him on Saturday. After she walked out on him at their dinner, he apologized and promised to not mention his brother. Trish agreed like a pig being led to slaughter. Maybe it would be easier if she could say she had drinks with a doctor.

"Okay. After our shifts, if the miracle doesn't happen. I'm not drinking though."

Trish had to be ready to go into the OR at a moment's notice. He nodded. "It's a plan."

Damn, she thought of Mick.

It was seven-thirty when she changed out of her scrubs into shorts and a tee shirt. Good thing it wasn't a date, because her hair was a mess. Strands had fallen out of her bun, but she had pinned it up wet so she couldn't let it down or it would be rippled, a look she hated. Instead, she hastily unpinned it, brushed it and put it into a ponytail.

When she stepped into the front lobby, Putty was tapping on his phone. She poked his shoulder. "Girlfriend?"

He turned to look at her, and his eyes lingered. Slowly he shook his head. When he finally spoke he said, "Were you one of those geniuses who graduated college at seventeen?"

She laughed. "I feel every year of my age. I'm thirty-five."

"I'll be thirty-five next month. You look amazing and I don't have a girlfriend, that's why I'm having drinks with you."

"Just friends, remember?"

"Friends, but I'm starving. Can we make it dinner instead?"

Feeling hungry, she nodded. "So doctor, were you in Boston through your whole training?"

He nodded. "I matched to Boston Medical Center for my peds residency. Then I got lucky with a pediatric critical care fellowship at Children's."

"You didn't want the cushy job with office hours giving kids physicals."

He shook his head. "It's crazy, but I knew I wanted to help sick kids."

She chuckled. "Look who you're talking to. My patients are very sick."

He smiled. "You get to make them better."

Trish kept it to herself when she applied for the transplant fellowship. She had even stayed at Max's apartment when she met with Children's, but he thought it was for a surgery position. He was genuinely happy when she called him after she was accepted.

"I'm moving to Boston."

"You got Children's? You rock."

"It's not what you think. It's a fellowship."

"For what? Are you crazy?"

"Transplant Surgery."

Speechless, he sputtered, "Oh wow!"

She said to Max, "I want to make a real difference. I want my sacrifice to be worth it."

Back on the sidewalk, walking beside Putty, she said, "It's the best part. I gave up a lot, years of my life. Every time a liver that I attached pinks up, I feel a surge of satisfaction."

"It's a miracle of science. Do you want pizza or down the street is Indian?"

"Pizza is good."

He nodded and opened the door for her. "Do you have a car at the hospital or take the T?"

"I walk."

"Lucky you."

"It's not much, but the location is great."

"I bet. I still live by Boston Medical Center in the South End. If I don't drive I have to take a bus. I should move to a better part of town."

"I don't know the good and bad parts. I spent years in New Haven so I'm not overly critical."

"Do you want to share a pizza?"

"Sure. I'm not picky."

He laughed. "I grew up with three siblings so if I wanted to eat I couldn't be picky. Someone else would eat it and I'd be stuck eating cereal."

"I only have two siblings." But my ex's family was that way. She thought of her upcoming lunch with Jonathan.

They discussed toppings and settled on an eggplant and ricotta specialty pie. Putty ordered a beer and Trish settled on sparking water. He lifted his mug. "To getting out of the hospital."

"Thanks. I need to make more friends."

"Do you have any?"

She nodded. "My neighbor and Max. He had the pediatric surgery fellowship before me. He was my mentor during my residency. Anyway, he and his wife have been great."

"I thought you were going to tell me you were dating him."

She laughed. "Nope."

"So you aren't dating anyone."

She knew no was the wrong answer because then she would have to explain why she didn't want to date him.

"I have a date on Saturday."

"Lucky guy. Are you serious?"

"No, not at all."

"Maybe. I mean, would you consider giving me a chance?"

"I. I was in a long-term relationship that ended badly."

"I don't plan to hurt you."

She smiled. "You're a good guy, but I really want to collect friends, not lovers. Seriously, you would like Jocelyn."

He frowned. "I like you. Have you dated since your breakup?"

She shook her head and thought of Mick. "Not really." She cleared her throat. "When was your last serious relationship?"

"Residency. The classic story of schedules that never jived, and she accepted a job in Florida because she was tired of the snow."

"So she hated snow more than she loved you."

"That sums it up. My sister hated her, so it wouldn't have worked."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Female intuition. She got a bad vibe from her."

Trisha laughed. "My sister feels that way about every girl my brother dates."

"You don't?"

"I've been too busy with residency and fellowships to go home."

"Where's home?"

"A small town in upstate New York."

"Do you miss it?"

"Nope. Not at all." Trish missed her family, but not her town or running into Murphys. Jonathan in Boston was enough.

Their pizza arrived, and Trish put her piece down after savoring her first bite. "This is amazing. It's my new favorite."

"Do you cook for yourself?"

She shook her head. "There's no point. I can, but I don't." She hardly cooked when she had a husband. "Do you cook?"

He chuckled. "Not really. I go home when I want a decent meal."

"You grew up in the area?"

"Yeah. North of the city."

They ate silently. Her phone buzzed. It was Jonathan texting her.

"Not the liver?" She shook her head. "My competition?"

She rolled her eyes. "Who were you texting earlier?"

"My cousin. We have a family thing on Sunday."

She sat back after two slices. "I need to go home and sleep. I keep hoping tomorrow we will get the liver." It was a remarkable organ which could regenerate. One adult liver would save a pediatric and adult patient.

"Do you want the leftover pizza?"

She smiled. "You take it. I'm gonna head out."

"I'll walk you."

She smiled. "This is my neighborhood."

He sighed. "I'll walk you back to the hospital. I can drive you home."

She wanted to say she could walk quicker than he could drive out of the parking garage, but let him. Neither spoke and she hoped he remembered they were just friends. In front of her building, she said, "Thanks, friend." And jumped out.

Once she was safely inside, she wondered why she was so afraid to date.

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