“Back again, Israel?” Ian asks as the man walks down the hallway towards his sister’s private hospital room.

Israel pauses before waving. “Everyday after work.”

Ian salutes. “I’ve noticed.” His beeper going off grits his teeth.

“You better get going.” Israel states.

Nodding, Ian heads off down the hall the opposite way Israel came.

“Hey,” a hand on Ian’s arm gives him pause. “What are you doing for dinner?”

Israel’s question takes Ian by surprise. “Uh, nothing. I don’t think.”

“What about dinner with me?” Israel’s dark eyes are soft making Ian feel at ease.

He nods almost to himself. “I get off at nine.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Ian walks off, with promises of meeting up after his shift, towards whatever crises awaits more happy than he can remember in months.