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Texas Hold’em had four stages. Pre-flop, flop, turn, and the river. Then during betting check, call, raise, or fold. Each stage and betting turns didn’t really matter about the cards on the table or in your hand. Poker focused on people. How well they could lie, how well someone could read you. Having a strong conviction and being able to hide well were critical to the game.
Every player fell into some kind of category. Those who thought they were better than everyone always leaned back in their chairs. Their shoulders or eyes would tense when someone tried to call their bluff. People who could count cards were too sure of themselves, easy to ready because nothing floundered them. Nervous people chewed or cracked joints. Being able to hide where you fell and being able to read them were essential.
Emma could weed out people easy enough. Most of the time. Telling the difference between confident and cocky gave her pause. Sometimes she could bluff just enough and find the tension in their muscles. Other times, what she thought had been arrogance was confidence. People who were nervous because they distrusted their hand versus anxious because they had faith in their hand were difficult too. Emma managed to figure out how they ticked. Distrustful people bit at their nails while anxious tended to tap.
When Emma knew the person, it made it easier. Looking out for their tells rather than having to discover them. Besides, not everyone fit into the same gloves. She made mistakes more than once and those cost her. After enough time, Emma started playing it safe. Sometime between when she turned fifteen and before college graduation. There were better outcomes to being safe. Keeping her head on a swivel, never putting her eggs in one basket. Never counting them before they hatched.
Junior year of college left Emma stressed beyond belief. There were so many courses and studying she had to do. Her rotations were going to be next as long as she passed all her classes. The problem got worse when she started coughing up petals. They were small, at first, buds really. It only took a week for them to become petals. White lily petals. She knew who they were for, she didn’t even need to go to the doctor to talk about options.
Confessing hadn’t been something Emma thought would be scary. It would cure her. Help unroot the flower in her lungs and the coughing fits that started lasting longer. Filled with more petals and eventually a whole head. She texted him where to meet, asked if he wanted a coffee, and brought both cups back. She smiled as she told him. All cards on the table. Just before the turn and the river. Two hearts on the table and two in her hand. A sure win.
Except, the man had winced. Pulled away. The coffee she spent some of her final money on left with him. Spades were shown and Emma lost it all. No more late night texts, no more laughs in study rooms, and no more flower petals in her throat.
Every final came back and Emma passed. The semester finished and she went into her rotations and then went to the Pitt for work. Dana Evans could read people better than Emma. She shrunk back where the charge nurse stepped up. They built easy trust with each other and she helped her get into the circle of nurses. Princess conversed with Emma in French sometimes, even as Dana shook her head at them. A few Tagalog phrases got thrown around often enough for Emma to pick up on a few.
Most of the doctors in the Pitt were nice. Of course, she made mistakes. When she did, they corrected her. Taught her the right way to do things and unless it was a bad day, they didn’t treat her unkindly.
James Ogilvie was another problem. For whatever reason, he tried to be the best. As if the patients weren’t the real objective, but impressing the people around him. Despite Emma knowing how to work around most people, she could never find an equilibrium with him. She couldn’t categorize him.
Joy Kwon got categorized as confident. Not arrogant. Not condescending. She knew what she knew and didn’t flaunt it. Maybe she counted cards. But she didn’t seem to use it to cheat. Even though she didn’t seem to care for this rotation, she didn’t let it affect her work. Laid back, but willing to fight for her patients.
That kind of energy drew Emma in. They circled each other for a while, working on the same patients, charting near each other. Emma bit at her nails and peeled at the polish. She would glance over sometimes and Joy would be typing away. Her side profile showed off the metal of her nose ring, glinting under the fluorescent lights.
After two weeks, she got the woman’s number. They watched the same shows and Joy wanted someone to talk to about them. Emma was more than willing and she often went to sleep sending a few of her thoughts and woke up to Joy’s own. They had different favorite characters, but hated the same one. While the plot may have been shaky, it held some fun appeal. Cracks where Emma could fill in her own theories.
It took three weeks before Emma noticed the coughing. At first she blamed it on allergies. It persisted and when the first bud came out, she froze. Stared down at the saliva covered plant and almost broke down. Hanahaki typically only affected a person once. Most people never contracted it and when they did, less than 5% reported reoccurrence. Emma thought she was in the clear.
She did what any sane person would and threw it away. Didn’t tell anyone and most certainly not the woman whose texts had her smiling at her phone. The pre-flop with two hearts once again. Emma could hold her cards close to her chest. Check because no one had raised.
Running to the bathroom every two hours when she had a coughing fit caused a few problems. Namely, Dana peering at her over her glasses. Emma would wince and apologize, flushing the buds down the toilet. Then the petals after three days. Ambrosia petals that were quickly becoming bigger and clumping.
“Kid, if this is a medical thing, you can tell someone,” Dana said as Emma tried to excuse herself again. Her throat tickled and whatever was coming up would be big. Emma laughed as she left the patient room, bee-lining for the bathroom.
By the time she locked the door, she thought she might choke. Emma did choke as she coughed, retching into the bowl. It took longer than the last week combined. Emma had to grab part of it to pull it out of her throat. She gagged and dropped it in the toilet water. Tears filled her eyes and she scrubbed them away. No stem yet. Almost.
Emma sucked in a deep breath. Surgery had a good chance of survival, if she went that route. However, the side-effects were more than she could bear. Everyone in her family told her how her empathy shaped her. It made her good. If she became apathetic, Emma didn’t know how she’d survive. Even if she knew strong emotions could break through, she didn’t want that. She wanted to feel everything.
Confessing would lead nowhere. Just like last time. Biting her nails and considering her options at the raise.
Emma washed her hands, redid her braid, and walked out. Straight into Joy. Her entire being lit up at the sight of the woman. Joy’s hands reached out to help Emma steady herself and Emma laughed and thanked her.
“Careful, Deer,” Joy said with the smile she seemed to reserve for Emma. The nickname came from Dana and stuck with everyone else. Even as Emma watched Joy with a smile, the student doctor tilted her head. “Everything okay? You’re… Sorry, you look a little puffy.” Joy pulled her hands back and stuffed them in her pockets.
“Oh!” Emma folded her hands together and looked back at the shut door behind her. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just dealing with same bad cramps. It’ll be fine, though. I took some pain meds earlier so.”
“Oof. I’m sorry. Tell me if you need more, ‘kay?” Joy bumped Emma with her elbow and walked off. Emma watched her go. They’d talk later. Maybe Emma could try inviting her over for a watch-together of one of their shows. The coughing fits weren’t too bad and if she experienced just one, then it wouldn’t interrupt the night too much.
Too many risks with that plan. A poker face would be needed and while it had stayed steady with that lie, Emma knew it would crumble under anymore scrutiny.
It took two more days before the stems started coming up, too. The coughing fits got closer together and on her day off, Emma spent most of her time in the bathroom just waiting for the next one. Her throat was raw and sore. Talking hurt and she had to pull every flower out. At least at home she could throw them away and not have to risk the plumbing.
Joy sent Emma updates throughout the day that made her giggle. A lot were about James and the new ways he found to annoy her. It was especially entertaining when Joy preceded them with dates of when James had done the same thing before. Bittersweet with how Emma vomited when a particular flower came up. At least when she sent Joy her goodnight text, she knew sleep wouldn’t be interrupted. Like hanahaki held the same circadian rhythm as her.
When she came in after two days of curling herself into the bathroom, Dana could tell Emma had a rough weekend. Emma knew it would be impossible to hide. Red eyes were a now permanent fixture as she grew teary every time a coughing fit hit. When she spoke, it rasped against her throat.
Dana forced her to be examined even while Emma tried to tell her she was fine. Dana was convinced it was a simple cold and Emma’s chest ached as the charge nurse pulled Joy into the room to help. The concern on Joy’s face only made Emma duck her head.
“Okay, no fever,” Dana said, “Normal temp. You havin’ any other symptoms, hon?”
“I told you I’m fine, Dana,” Emma complained.
“Sore throat, from the way you’re talking. Are those eyes red cause of tears or somethin’ else?”
“If I couldn’t work, I would have called.” Joy tilted her head as she looked up at the monitor. Her face looked in pain, as if she was on the bed and not Emma.
“Your oxygen is a little low,” Joy said, “You’ve never mentioned asthma to me. Is that something you’ve been diagnosed with before?”
“No, no asthma. No history of asthma in my family, either. I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh. Are you a hard poke?” Emma glared at Joy. She figured any heat it held disappeared with the red eyes and the general way she composed herself. It was proven when Joy just smiled at her. The same smile when Emma lied to her.
They took her blood. Emma huffed the whole time about this being too much. There was no reason to fuss over her and she’d really like to go back to work, please. All she got was a pat on the shoulder from Dana and Joy’s hand on her knee. A few brushes of her thumb over the joint. Emma stared at the point long after they left.
It took a few minutes later for the tell-tale tingling to start in the back of her throat. Emma groaned and stared at everything connected to her. Removing any of them might cause a problem. The door to her room stayed open. If she could close it and sit next to the biohazard bin, she could get rid of the flower without anyone else knowing.
It took some effort, but she got the door shut and knelt next to the bin, lid open. When the coughing fit started, Emma’s eyes teared up. Not just from the pain, but the idea of Joy finding out. Of losing those morning texts in answer to her nightly ones. Having to survive the next four weeks of Joy’s rotation. No doubt Joy wouldn’t want to be put on cases with someone who had these feelings towards her.
There were so many things Emma wanted to do with Joy. Joy mentioned enjoying jellyfish and the aquarium had her favorites. The mall had a store with jewelry Emma loved and wanted to share with Joy. She gained a few restaurant recommendations from Princess and Perlah had told Emma about a carousel a few miles away. Those were things Emma wanted to experience with someone. Just to test the waters, see where it could go.
Emma gagged and coughed as the start of the flower came up. This one hurt more than the rest. No thorns, but with how raw her throat had become, Emma winced around the feeling of petals and leaves coming up. It took a while before she could reach and pull at the plant. She gagged at the feeling of the stem against her throat and the tickling of the petals leaving.
Emma knew when it should stop. She’d gotten a handle on that part. When the plant kept going, Emma panicked. It caught and she choked. She couldn’t breathe. Nothing went in and nothing came out. She tried to pull harder on the flower and all it brought was more pain. Monitors beeped behind her, some blared.
Someone would be answering them soon. Emma didn’t want to be found like this. Another pull and the pain made new tears rolls down her cheeks. She tried again. Nothing. Only the darkening of her vision as her oxygen dropped.
Before her hearing started to fail, Emma heard the rushing of footsteps outside her door. She just hoped it wasn’t Joy who found her on the floor.
There were two main mythical provisions in Greek mythology. Nectar and ambrosia. Nectar the drink and ambrosia the food. They were what gave the gods their immortality. Mortals were not able to partake. The ambrosia flower got its name from the food. The gods loved the food and the food loved them back. Ambrosia: the flower of mutual love.
Stuck in Emma’s throat as Joy opened the door to beeping and warnings from everything connected to her body.
“Oh my God.” Joy turned over her shoulder and shouted for Dana. She only just remembered to prop the door open before rushing to Emma’s side.
“Oh, shit,” Dana said and dropped to the floor next to her. They had to work together to get Emma back on the bed.
In any other case, Joy would know what to do. With any other patient, she would have jumped right in. Every fact about hanahaki she read flooded her mind. The most likely cause for Emma’s asphyxiation was the flower had grown too big. Roots caught in her throat, obstructing her airway. The reason for her oxygen plummeting.
Someone shoved Joy back.
“No,” she tried to push herself back to the railing. Emma’s hand was empty. She needed something to hold. So many erasers had met their demise to Emma’s fidgeting. There were a few options Joy looked at to buy her something to fidget with that would be sturdy and hold up to the woman’s tendency to pick. Two were in transit.
“Dana, get her out of here,” Samira said. Joy swallowed and turned to face the charge nurse, ready to help in anyway she could. Except, Dana stared at her with pity. Then she pulled Joy back.
“What?” she croaked, “No! No, I can help. Tell me what to do.”
“Not this time, sweetie,” Dana said. For someone who didn’t look it, she could strong arm someone quite well. Joy still tried to scramble back into the room, begging to help as she watched Dennis tilt the bed back and work on pulling the roots out.
“Dana, please,” Joy begged, “Let me help. You know I can help. Hanahaki effects anywhere from five to ten thousand cases in American annually. Twenty-seven percent of people who contract it die. Most people who contract it only get it once and—”
“No one is questioning your knowledge. Okay? They need the room for people to work.”
“Please.”
“I’ll get you after.” Dana didn’t give Joy a chance to answer before she disappeared into the room again.
There were so many people surrounding Emma, working to remove the flower. Joy paced outside the room, hands on the back of her neck as she periodically looked from the floor to the room and back again. Someone tried to pull her away, for once Joy didn’t know who, and she waved them off. She needed to stay here. Dana said she’d come after.
A lot of things were left unsaid in the texts Joy sent to Emma. Those things should be said when Emma woke up. Because she would. She had to. For a moment, Joy could exist in a world where those flowers were for her.
It all came crashing down when Emma started to stabilize, still asleep, but with an oxygen mask over her face and a few pain relievers to help. There wasn’t much else they could do other than comfort. With that comfort came the realization. Emma had strong feelings for someone. Someone who loved her back and someone they needed to find and call. Joy shouldn’t go into the room. That would mean confronting reality.
“Who’s her emergency contact?” Joy asked as she wiped her tears away once Joy’s room started emptying. Dana gave her one of her soft smiles and placed her hands on Joy’s shoulders. “We need to. Um, we need to call her emergency contact and see if we can find who the flowers are for. That’s protocol.”
“C’mon,” Dana said, voice quiet as she turned and wrapped her arms around Joy. She lead Joy into the room. “You just stay here and watch her, ‘kay?”
“But we need—”
“No we here, sweetheart. Just watch our Deer.” Joy blinked up at Dana and nodded as she got lowered into a chair. She watched Dana walk out of the room and close the door. They probably should leave that open. Flowers didn’t tend to sprout with the patient slept, but there was always a chance.
Emma looked cold. There were goosebumps up her arms and Joy reached over the railing to adjust the blankets. She pulled the chair closer and carefully wrapped her hand around Emma’s. It was okay. She’s make sure to move it away before Emma woke up.
There were a lot of people who Emma treated kindly. It was like her whole being radiated kindness. A few people chipped at it a little harder than others, but no matter what, Emma came out the other end still trying to do good by them. The one person Joy could think of who Emma didn’t really care for would be Ogilvie. Although, those feelings may have come from Joy’s own projection.
A lot of people could love Emma back. Joy didn’t want to compile a list just because that would mean making a list of people Emma loved and Joy knew she wouldn’t fall on it. Not in the way Joy wanted to be on that list.
There weren’t any indications Emma gave that she was strictly straight. Then again, there were no indications she gave about being into women. About being into Joy. They chatted all the time and Joy may not have many people she talked to, but she assumed that was just how girl-space-friends were. Every one of her friends were a bit farther out, so daily conversations didn’t happen. And there wasn’t anyone else Joy knew of who watched their favorite TV show so of course they talked to each other about that.
The good night and good morning messages were just being friendly. On Emma’s end. Joy may have had ulterior motives there.
None of that helped now. Joy sucked in a breath and wiped at her eyes before staring up at Emma’s vitals while thinking about the flower. Ambrosia. Whoever Emma loved to this extent loved her back. As much as Joy didn’t want to make a list, at least she would have a few people to ask Emma about when she woke up.
Whoever it was had to be someone who Emma spent a lot of time with. Maybe even another nurse. Joy should probably pay more attention to the people Emma actually talked to more often. Because there were people Emma talked to and there were people Emma talked to. Just because she radiated kindness didn’t mean she vibed with everyone.
There was the flight nurse—Cory Dodds—who Emma seemed to straighten up whenever he came in. The times a trauma came in from the roof, Emma liked to volunteer. She once overheard them talking about pastries.
A lot of people liked Matteo. Emma laughed at so many of his jokes and once brought him bread after he said he missed the homemade stuff his mom would make.
Last week, Joy mentioned missing cinnamon rolls and dumplings. Emma had teased her about the odd cravings. She knew the two didn’t make sense together, but she loved them both. They reminded her of her father and auntie. It took two days for Joy to come into work and have Emma at her heels with a grin and two separate containers. One had cinnamon rolls and the other dumplings.
They were some of the best home-cooked foods Joy had in a long time.
Emma stirred and Joy went to pull her hand back. Emma’s tightened around her fingers and Joy stilled. She raised her head from the railing where it had been resting for the last long while. There was a crick in her neck Joy elected to ignore.
“Hey,” Joy said as Emma started to sit up, “Go slow.” Emma mumbled something but stopped shifting around so much. Joy’s heart ached. The mask got knocked a little awry. Joy barely had to reach over to adjust it properly.
“Thank you,” Emma managed to say. Joy smiled and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. Emma hummed. She nestled further into the pillows as if ready to fall asleep again. Joy should let her. If she slept, the hanahaki would stay at bay. It did give the flowers more of a chance to grow bigger. Worse.
“Can you stay awake, Deer?” Joy asked. She cleared her throat when her voice stuck inside. “There’s a few questions we need to ask you.”
“Nooo,” Emma shifted on the bed. Her fingers curled tighter around Joy’s and she couldn’t help but smile. Even though her eyes grew watery at the idea of another flower that bad forcing up Emma’s throat, Joy had half a mind to let her rest some more.
“We need to go over your choices,” Joy said. Someone needed to be informed. It shouldn’t be just Joy in the room with a patient while they discussed the options Emma had. Selfishly, Joy didn’t want anyone else in the room. Emma was her best friend and the woman she wanted to love. No one else could be in here while they talked about this.
It took some effort for Emma to open her eyes. They looked so tired. Still, they shined. Even the harsh fluorescent lights couldn’t hide the sparkle Emma’s eyes held. Joy would drink up their nectar-color for as long as she had them.
She squeezed Emma’s hand.
“I don’t want surgery,” Emma said, as if the touch spurred her on. Joy nodded. There was a deep ache in her chest.
“Okay.” She said. “Then we find who you’re blooming for.” Emma rolled her eyes at the phrasing.
“No,” she said when she focused on Joy again. Emma swallowed and shook her head as Joy’s heart plummeted. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not. You… Emma, you get surgery or you confess. That’s it.”
“Or I don’t do either.”
“And asphyxiate?” Joy shook her head. That wasn’t worth it. Losing her friend to someone else was better. At least then she could hold onto the hope they would keep texting. Maybe even spend some time together outside of work and their texts. Time curled up on a couch watching their shitty TV show while they laughed. It would kill Joy from the inside out, but Emma would be alive. “Just… tell me who it is and I’ll go get them myself.”
Emma turned her head, facing away from Joy. Her braids were mussed from doing them while sick and then the subsequent emergency. Many of the strands were on her cheek and in her eyes. Emma hated it when that happened. Said it got annoying and poked her. Joy wanted to redo them for her.
“Emma, you can’t just suffocate.” she said after too long of a silence.
“I can’t do it again.” Emma said. It was so quiet, Joy only barely heard it over the beeping of the machines in the room. Then, Emma sucked in a breath as an almost-sob wracked her body. “I already confessed once and he didn’t—he didn’t want me. I can’t lose someone again.”
The confession had Joy reeling. Scrambling, a little. Of the 5% who experienced reoccurrence of hanahaki, 37% chose to not confess. It always ended in death. Joy tried to rationalize why. What made someone want to hold their cards so close, it killed them? Seeing the way Emma’s body jolted as she tried to keep her cries quiet gave Joy some answer.
“I’ll stay,” Joy whispered. She inched closer, trying to get Emma to turn and look her. Make her understand the deeper meaning. “I can go find him and I’ll stay here for you.” Emma choked and for a terrifying minute, Joy thought another flower was coming up. Instead, the choke turned into a heartless laugh.
“It’s not a him,” Emma sniffled, “I can’t… Joy, I can’t do it.”
“Please.” Joy stood, not rounding the bed. She understood the fear of coming out. She’d been only twelve the first time she knew something about her was different from her peers. Not just because of her memory but because all the girls were talking about boys and Joy only wanted to talk about the girls. She first came out at fifteen and had been lucky enough to have a good friend group.
Her mother had died still hating her. Joy’s father stood by her side through it all.
Joy tugged on Emma’s hand. Not hard. She just wanted the woman’s attention. It worked because Joy turned her head, still facing her body in the opposite direction. Her eyes were glassy and Joy couldn’t stop reaching out to wipe the tears that had fallen out of the way.
“You know I’m a raging lesbian, right?” Joy stated. The difference in tone from the whole situation made a startled laugh bubble out of Emma’s throat. A much better sound from the gurgling Joy heard when she first opened the door.
“No,” Emma turned to face Joy, “I actually… I don’t think I knew that.”
“Damn. Gotta get a flashier nose ring.” Emma rolled her eyes. “My point is, I’m in your corner. No matter who those flowers are for, if they love you or not, I’m staying. Not just for your confession, but for after. Whatever the hell happens there.”
Emma stared up at Joy with those doe-eyes of hers. Joy realized she still held on of Emma’s hands and her other held the woman’s face. She’d stay here as long as she could. Drink the nectar and wish she could be immortalized in this moment forever. Nothing like this ever lasted. No matter how many times Joy remembered something, they were never as pleasant as the real thing.
Something settled over Emma’s face. Her expression determined before her eyes flicked up. Joy smiled at the look. Emma should have it more often.
“I love you,” Emma said. Joy snorted and brushed her thumb across Emma’s cheekbone.
“Love you, too, dork,” she said, “But maybe save it for the encore.” Joy went to step away. Nearly managed to before Emma’s hand tightened around her knuckles.
“No.” Emma’s voice had a certain edge to it Joy knew she hadn’t heard before. “I love you.”
Ambrosia. Requited love.
Because Joy loved with her whole heart. Whenever she fell, she fell hard. Never once had she been in love with someone and not given her all. Never once had she been a partner and not wanted to make sure they were loved and safe and secure. Never once had Joy received the same passion back. The same security and mutual respect and effort.
“Oh.” Joy choked as her eyes grew teary. Emma shuffled on the bed as if to pull away and Joy wouldn’t have that. Not after all of Emma’s confession. The oxygen mask still wouldn’t be removed anytime soon and Joy wouldn’t harm Emma’s healing in that way.
She pulled Emma’s hand back from where it tried to retreat, kept her hand over the smooth skin of her cheek and leaned down. Planted a kiss right between Emma’s brows. Felt the skin scrunch in confusion before it relaxed and Emma’s free hand raise up to press into her breastbone and curl there. Like she wanted to hold Joy’s heart. She would’ve let Emma, if she could.
“I love you.” Joy pressed into Emma’s skin. Emma laughed, a wet thing, and when Joy pulled back, she wiped those tears too. “Guess now it’s just letting you heal.”
“Yeah.” Emma let out a shaky breath.
“To be clear,” Joy said, not moving an inch from where she hovered over Emma, “You were coughing up flowers of mutual love and still thought I wouldn’t say it back?” Emma smacked Joy right were she’d curled her hand/ Joy only laughed and kissed her again.