"Please come!" Millicent Griffith begged her best friend of many, many years, Abbey Barrington.

"Millie, I love you, but no. There are many things I'd rather do than spend the evening in high heels, making awkward small talk with every politician in Washington," Abbey replied.

They were sitting in a coffee shop, having an afternoon catch up. Outside, the sun peaked out over the snow-covered ground, displaying winter in D.C. Millie raised her eyebrow at Abbey, trying to guilt her. In an effort to ignore her, Abbey sipped her coffee.

"Oh come on, Abbey. You never go out anymore."

"I do too. I went to the movies with the girls last week."

"That doesn't count. What about for me? I have to attend and I can't show up alone. Please be my plus one."

"Millie, you're the surgeon general. You absolutely can show up alone. Or force one of your colleagues to go with you. Someone who wants to be wined and dined."

"You know, for someone who moved here to be the Chief of Surgery at Johns Hopkins and spends all of her time outside of the O.R. advocating for universal healthcare and women's rights, I'd think you'd jump at the opportunity to bend the ear of every influential Democrat in Washington."

Abbey paused, biting her lower lip. Check and mate. Millie knew she had Abbey.

Abbey surrendered, "Fine, but you owe me. Big time."

The waitress walked by and dropped the bill on the table, telling the women to "take their time."

Laughing, Millie grabbed the check and pulled out her credit card. "Will this do?"

Grinning wickedly, Abbey replied, "It's a start, but you've…"

Before she could finish, her pager went off.

Sighing dramatically, Millie said, "Saved by the bell. Go on. I've got this. And clearly you're needed back at the hospital."

Grabbing her coat and quickly downing the rest of her coffee, Abbey kissed Millie quickly on the cheek, before bundling up and walking quickly out into the brisk air.


It was dark and cold by the time Abbey made it out of surgery and left the hospital. The nine hour surgery was touch and go for a while, but Abbey had brought her patient out alive. Now baring any post-op complications, he should be in the clear.

Pulling up at her home on the outskirts of D.C., she put her car in park, turned the lights off and sat idling in the driveway, taking her first moment of the day to breathe. Well, "day" is a relative term since it's now midnight and she had left the house at 7am the day before.

The porch light was on, though the rest of the house seemed to be dark. Silently unlocking the front door, Abbey entered and almost tripped over a backpack and a pile of shoes. "Zoey." She straightened the bag and shoes, putting her own in their rightful spot next to the others. She locked the door behind her and made her way into the kitchen. She turned on the light over the sink and was greeted with the sight of dirty dishes lingering next to the sink.

Sighing heavily, Abbey rubbed her tired eyes, and went to work—soaking the dishes, rinsing and scrubbing the caked off materials before placing them gently in the dishwasher and pressing start. She made sure the coffee pot was loaded for the next morning, and then pretended not to see the giant mountain of laundry taunting her over by the laundry machines.

She crept slowly up the stairs, each step filling her with a new sense of how tired she actually was. At the top of the stairs, she saw lights peaking out from two of the closed doors. Entering the first room, she found Liz, 16, sitting on her bed and painting her nails.

Quietly, Abbey said, "Lizzie, it's late."

"Mom, you made me mess up my nails."

Abbey walked over to her daughter, kissing her on the head and brushing her dark, wavy hair back from her face. "I'm sorry, sweetie."

"And it's not that late. I'm practically an adult. I think it's time you actually treat me like one."

Not in the mood to be goaded or walked all over by her teenage daughter, she shot back, "Well then act like one. The dishes weren't done. I know you ordered takeout instead of the healthy dinner I left for you to heat in the oven. And it looks like you are yet again waiting for the laundry fairy to come and bring you clean clothes. Not to mention the state of this room."

Abbey motions to the chaos and general teenage girl mess that is everywhere you can look.

"Mom. I'll get to it."

"Okay. Well I'm going to have grandma and grandpa come stay this weekend as I'll be out late on Saturday night with Millie."

"Why can't I be in charge?"

"Once you 'get to it. We'll reevaluate that. Until then, grandma and grandpa are babysitting. Now I'm going to bed. I love you, good night."

"Love you too," Liz mumbled as Abbey walked out the door, shutting it behind her.

Unable to face dealing with another awake child, Abbey moved to the darkened door next to Liz's. She opened it and with the glow of the hallway light found her youngest, Zoey, 13, sound asleep. All of her blankets were in knots on the floor, as Zoey always kicks them off. Walking in, Abbey untangled all of the blankets, placing them gently over Zoey. Zoey snuggled into the newfound warmth. Abbey kissed her lightly on the cheek and tiptoed out of the room.

Entering the final room, she found Ellie, 14, asleep at her desk, chemistry book wide open and notes spilling out everywhere. Besides her blonde hair and quiet demeanor, Ellie was the spitting image of Abbey—intelligent, driven, scientific, and with a passion for helping others. Rousing Ellie gently from her sleep by rubbing circles on her back, Abbey whispered, "Baby girl, you need to go to bed."

"Hmmm?" Ellie replied, slowly waking from her slumber.

"You fell asleep at your desk again, sweetheart. You need to get into bed."

"What time is it?"

"After midnight."

"Did you just get home?"

Now awake, Ellie really looked at her mother. Abbey thought about lying, but Ellie could always see through her, and besides, she was still in her scrubs.

"Yes. Surgery went long."

"Everything ok?"

"It is now. I promise."

Satisfied that her mother was telling the truth, Ellie climbed into bed, Abbey arranging the blankets just so.

"Are you off tomorrow?"

"No, I have to work. But I'll be home in time for dinner. I promise."

"Good," Ellie sleepily replied.

"Well that makes one daughter who will be thrilled by that. Your sisters will be mad that they won't be ordering more takeout."

"And making brownies."

Shaking her head, Abbey grinned at her middle daughter. "Goodnight, love you."

"Love you too, mom." Ellie leaned up to kiss her mother goodnight, and Abbey turned out the lights and closed her door.

Satisfied that each of her daughters was safe and sound, and relatively well fed, she entered her own bedroom.

The room was warm and well decorated—homey and stylish, but not too much (just like Abbey herself). She looked longingly at the bed, but first forced herself into the master bathroom where she shed her dirty clothes and stepped into the shower. Letting the steam and stream of hot water wash over her, Abbey cleansed the day off of her. She grabbed her towel and dried off before pausing to brush her teeth.

Walking back into the bedroom, she slipped on her robe, and sat on the bed, rubbing cream into her skin to moisturize. When she finished, she found herself too tired to get up, so she left the cream on her bedside table, and laid down, lights still on, and hair still wet.

"I just need a minute," she mumbled to herself as she drifted off to sleep.