Ten

Ten.

How long does it take to change a life? To put it on a new trajectory. To take one action or make one decision that will either propel it to new heights, or send it plummeting to the depths. How long?

Dr. Brandon Walker was about to find out. He’d played the scene over and over in his head. Sometimes with a good end, usually with a bad one. He knew the risk he’d be taking, now he just needed to find the courage.

The entire New Year’s Eve party had been building to this moment for him, and for Solace Grimwald, the object of his affection. They’d worked together for over a year, and despite the differences between them, Brandon was completely smitten.

As he stood next to her those differences played a litany in his mind. He’s 38, she’s 231; he’s tall, thin, and pasty with brown hair, she’s short and wiry, with skin the color of coal and hair as white as snow; he’s a human, she’s a dark elf; he’s an ER generalist, she’s the head of cardiology. Yet, as he looked at her now, he realized the year might very well end without him telling her.

A sharp report: the sound of a champagne bottle opening. The world shuddered. He felt every moment in agonizing slow motion.

#

Nine.

The partygoers were chanting the count-down together, the speech of many slurred. One of the maternity nurses, a young orc whose name he could never remember, began a tumble to her side over the back of the sofa.

Part of his mind felt a moment of panic for the people sitting there but he pushed it aside. There would be plenty of time for that later. The champagne from her flute described an arc, tracing the path it travelled.

A bright laugh carried over the top of the commotion. Dr. Adam Lawson, a human he often traded shifts with was looking at him with a knowing grin and a raised thumb. The champagne cork was on an intercept course with one of the overhead lights. Solace turned and looked up at Brandon. That was his cue.

“Solace…” he began.

#

Eight.

The cork impacted the overhead light, punching through the plastic diffuser and remaining as a dark shadow. Dr. Lawson’s gaze was pulled away by the sound and his hand began returning to his side. Squeals arose from the sofa.

Firecrackers were going off outside, someone too impatient to wait for the countdown. The vending machine made the loud clunk of a soft drink can dropping into the pick-box. Like the diet soda in the pocket of his white lab coat, slowly warming.

The orc nurse, now doubled over the back of the sofa, was a little behind in calling out “Eight!” and slurring badly. Part of his mind felt a moment of pity for the hangover she would be feeling later. The bulk of his mind was taken with the sight of Solace’s violet eyes.

“I love you,” he said.

#

Seven.

The firecrackers outside were unrelenting. The joviality in the room swirled around and outside the figures standing face-to-face in the near center, a calm eye in the storm.

The people who had been standing closest to them were turning away. Whether that was due to embarrassment or a desire to give the couple space, it had the effect of widening the eye of the storm.

The orc nurse, Annalise, he remembered, laughed loudly. Brandon reached his hands out, to grab Solace’s. Like everything else they moved as if through molasses. Her eyes were still fixed on his. 

“Always have,” he said.

#

Six.

A loud boom outside. The countdown-jumpers were firing off big ones now. Inside, hands were helping Annalise over the back of the couch. Rather than just stand up, drunk logic must have made the complete trip seem the likeliest solution.

The stethoscope draped around his neck acted as a delimiter against which Brandon could feel his pulse pound. Whatever happened next it was too late to rethink anything.

Someone belched loudly. The storm continued pulling away from the center where Brandon and Solace anchored the room. As the clearing grew the chaos surrounding it grew more frantic.

His hands reached hers and held them lightly. She didn’t pull away. His green eyes waited for a response; fear playing across his face.

#

Five.

Annalise was headed toward being a pile on the floor. Plastic champagne flutes were being hoisted. Clumps of people were forming in the chaos, as though gravity were acting on a collection of disordered bodies in space.

The unmistakable sound of a soft drink can opening cut across the din, followed by a curse. The cans often came out of the machine shaken. Now that he had spit it out, he felt a bit like one of those cans. He’d been shaken and under pressure for too long and opening his mouth he finally spilled it all out and made a mess of it.

The door to the lounge squeaked open. Someone coming or going, neither mattered to Brandon at the moment. The only thing that mattered was the woman who still hadn’t pulled away, and whose eyes sparkled with a hint of curiosity... or was it amusement?

“You drunk?” she asked.

#

Four.

Dr. Lawson had turned around completely and was in a half-hearted hug with one of the residents. Annalise was a giggling pile on the floor. “Whoopsie!” she cried. There was a moment’s respite from the fireworks outside. Dr. Sweetholm, or as he preferred, “Doc Bob,” the halfling head of orthopedics, was waxing rhapsodic about the ways he loved “all of you misfits.”

The sounds of the PA in the hallway drifted in through the open door and a momentary lull in the din. Within the room, the chaotic storm was palpably building to a conclusion. The clumps of two, three, and four people pulled in tighter and began to close the distance between them.

Solace still hadn’t pulled away, Brandon noticed. Her violet eyes remained fixed on his, peering into his soul. He had laid his heart out bare, in the hopes that she would treat it at least as gently as those she operated on.

“No,” he answered.

#

Three.

The door closed with a thunk. Someone on the sofa was calling for more champagne for Annalise. Dr. Lawson had left the awkward embrace of the resident, only to find his leg being hugged by Doc Bob.

The fireworks started back up outside, big ones, all going off at nearly the same instant. A siren sounded in the distance, no doubt on its way with another patient for the ER. Brandon’s pager vibrated, and a two-tone chime sounded over the PA in the lounge.

He would have to leave soon, but he wasn’t quite ready yet. Not until he made himself understood. His hands still held hers, cool and soft, yet filled with a strength their small size belied. Her expression was changing from curiosity to something he couldn’t pin down.

“I love you,” he said.

#

Two.

Outside, the fireworks were creating a no-doubt impressive display, their booms overlapping each other in a constant rolling thunder. The siren grew closer and the two-tone chime sounded over the PA again. It would do so three times, as it always did.

Dr. Lawson was trying to get out of another awkward situation without embarrassing himself or Doc Bob. Annalise, still on the floor, was holding her plastic champagne flute up, waiting for a refill. There were no single people standing anywhere in the room, all having given in to the strange gravity that pulled them into larger and larger embraces.

Solace looked at Brandon, her expression softening. Even though she wasn’t saying anything, it was the highlight of Brandon’s year, decade even. Her hands still rested in his. She exhaled, her breath playing under his chin.

The wait for her response seemed to drag on forever.

#

One.

A blue light above the door began to strobe, the two-tone chime sounding again. The patient in the ambulance was coding. He would find the crash cart in place with a team standing by when he got to the ER. Solace’s pager chimed. It seemed she was on call.

Nearly half of the champagne being poured into Annalise’s flute was missing it, running down her arm and splashing on the linoleum. Dr. Lawson was bent over, patting Doc Bob on the back. The nearest group of people moved closer to include the two of them in their embrace, arms around shoulders.

For better or worse, Brandon’s life was now changed irrevocably. Had he not been on duty he could have claimed drunkenness if she rejected him. That was, however, not the case. Solace squeezed Brandon’s hands and smiled. Time began flowing again.

“I know,” she said.