I wanted to ask him what that was all about. Why he couldn’t show even a small fraction of emotion for a man who was obviously in as much emotional pain as his son was physically. But Jacob’s face stopped me. The voice in my head told me there was more to his story. I wanted to ask him … no, beg him to let me in, to help him with whatever was going on, but this wasn’t the time or place.
“Hey, did you hear? The hospital execs are bringing in some healthcare consulting firm to oversee the hospital’s operations.”
He frowned as we began moving down the hallway. He grunted. “I heard. Bunch of asshole suits who breathe down our necks and tell the staff what we’re doing wrong.”
“You seem cheery about it,” I teased, nudging him with my elbow.
He grunted again.
“I get it. None of us are really looking forward to it, but maybe it’ll help in some way. And if it doesn’t, whatever.” I shrugged. I was all for improving hospital operations if it meant improving the quality of care patients received. But often it just meant even more administrative work for staff, namely, nurses, to have to get through.
“How did this morning go?”
I blinked remembering Journey’s appointment. “I’m not sure. She was tight-lipped once she left the psychiatrist’s office.”
“Can’t blame her. Who the hell wants some head doc poking around up there? They’re not even real doctors as far as I’m concerned.”
I giggled. “Not everyone can be a surgeon. Thegodsof the hospital,” I bemoaned, jokingly.
“Shame for them.” Pausing, he looked down at me in the way he does when his mind was working. He slid his hands into his pockets. “There’s a final summer concert down at Williamsport Park this weekend. Want to go?”
I was well aware of the concert. It was the ending of the park’s Summer in the Park series. There’d been live bands and artists throughout the summer.
My eyebrows dipped. “A park with a bunch of people? Not something I thoughtyou’dbe a fan of.”
He shook his head, a half smile emerging. “Hell, me either. I don’t like crowds or people too much. But I figured you would enjoy it.”
I had the biggest urge to throw my arms around him and press my lips to his, but we were at work. I cleared my throat. “Yes. I would love that.”
He moved his hand from his pockets, giving me one final look and squeeze before heading back to his office for an appointment with a patient.
Standing there, I sighed as he walked away. Jacob had me forgetting all about my sister and her worries, and the message I’d gotten from my doctor’s office.
****
Jacob
What the hell was I thinking? I fuckinghatecrowds.
“I don’t like people,” I grunted as I scowled at another couple who rushed past us to get a closer view of the stage. We were in the middle of Williamsport Park for their end of summer concert. It was the last official day of the summer season, which meant it was slightly chilly out. But there were throngs of people about us, many of whom had spread themselves out onto picnic blankets or beach chairs with coolers of food around them.
I hadn’t thought of any of that, but of course, Grace had. When I arrived to pick her up, she had a wicker picnic basket full of Greek salad, sandwiches, fruit, crackers, and a bottle of red wine. And the blanket to match, of course. Luckily, I did have a blanket in the back of my own car, which was there in the case of emergencies, but I’d forgotten all about it.
Since these blankets were for sitting, I didn’t mind using them in the park.
Grace giggled as we held either ends of the blankets, unfolding them. “You’re a doctor.”
“So?”
“So? That means your very job, by definition, is to heal people for a living.”
I shrugged. “I’m a plastic surgeon, most don’t see that as healing.” They were wrong but I didn’t waste my time defending my profession to people who didn’t matter.
“You and I both know plastics is more than just nose and ass jobs to rich people who want to look good on their yacht. Besides, most of those types of plastic surgeons own their own practice. You, on the other hand …” she slipped off the gold sandals she wore and padded across the blanket, reaching me. Lifting her hand to my chest, she turned her head upward. “… work for a hospital providing care to little boys in the burn unit. Tell me again how much you don’t like people.”
“Kids are different.”
She giggled and didn’t bother reminding me that most of my patients were adults.
