“Holy shit,” Sienna says, her hand still on my arm. “Are you okay?”
“I, uh, I’m not sure,” I admit, turning the phone over and over in my hands.
“You can go home,” Sienna says, glancing out into the main concourse of the market. It opens in minutes and soon will be flooded with people trying to pick-up last-minute gifts, Christmas goods. “Take a minute for yourself.”
It’s started to snow gently, drifting down between the booths. The air is thick with brown sugar and cinnamon, roasting nuts, and the fires they’ve set up in the middle, s’mores kits available for purchase. For a moment, I’m bowled over with gratitude for where I am—here in this city, with this person.
I still feel the hurt over Russell, but there’s also a steady, solid ground under my feet.
“No.” I shake my head, run my hands through my hair, and turn to look at my friend, “No, I think the work will feel good. Give me a chance to think.”
“Alright,” Sienna says, grinning back and pushing up the sleeves of her hideous Christmas sweater. “Then let’s do this thing.”
Chapter 37
Russell
After the talk with Cal, I have to get out of the hospital.
Somehow, like feet that always steer you home, my car points in the direction of the clinic downtown. I pull up outside, cutting the engine and turning slowly, expecting to see cardboard up on the windows, a sign announcing it to be officially closed.
But that’s not what I see.
Instead, the lights are on inside, and a woman with a baby is trying to get the door open.
Hopping out of the car, I step over to her, opening the door, blinking in confusion at her presence, at the unlocked door, at the lights being on.
Her baby coughs, and she says, “Thank you,” quickly before ducking inside and heading over to the check-in counter, which is staffed and operational.
“What the…hell?” I mutter, standing in the entry way long enough that when someone else comes through the door, I’m in the way. I blink and move to the side, trying to figure out if that intense conversation with my cousin sent me into some sort of psychotic break.
“Hey man, you’re not on the schedule for today, are you?”
I turn to see Orie with a shit-eating grin on his face, despite the casual greeting. He’s wearing a pair of slacks and a button-up under his white doctor’s coat, a stethoscope hanging around his neck.
“What the hell is this?” I ask, gesturing at…all of it. The people in the waiting room, the nurses bustling from station to station, the pharmacy techs delivering shots and medications.
“Come here so you’ll stop swearing in front of these people,” Orie says, turning and gesturing for me to follow him into the main area. When I do, I find Orie isn’t the only physician here—there are several others, including Dr. Jonston, whose blonde ponytail swings just like it did that first day I saw Jules in the emergency room.
“Orie, what?—”
“Itriedto talk to you about it at the game,” he says, cutting me off with a laugh. “But you didn’t want to hear it, remember?”
I stare at him, and he laughs again, shaking his head and leaning back against the wall, his clipboard on his thigh.
“You rich people always think the only way to solve a problem is throwing money at it. But I come from a place where hands are a lot more important,” he says, lifting his hand in demonstration.
“What the hell do you mean, hands?” I ask, voice filled with wonder rather than frustration. I still can’t quite believe this is real.
Orie shrugs, “Asked around at the hospital to see if people would be willing to pitch in. More doctors doing pro-bono shifts. Nurses and techs, too. You’d be surprised what people are willing to do if you promise them coffee and donuts.”
“There’s no way?—”
“Some of us also chipped in what we could,” Orie cuts in, “and, when I went to the board with my plan, they let me know that this fundraising season has been pretty lucrative, anyway.So even without the promise of your contribution, they’ve funded up through the first half of the fiscal year.”
I blink at him, my mind still running a beat behind. I spent all this time thinking I was the only thing stopping the clinic from closing that I never even considered other options.
Talking to Cal. Asking for help.
