by R.S. Grey
Dr. McCormick goes through introductions and while Lucas gives everyone a handshake and a smile, I do more. I commit their names to memory and begin to build a plan of attack for each and every one of them. There are two medical assistants, one nurse, and one office manager. Everyone but the office manager looks young, around my age, and they are all female, all enamored with Lucas right away. It’s biology and I cannot compete, so I try another tactic.
“Those are adorable scrubs, Casey.”
The nurse beams with my approval.
Gina, the office manager, walks around the reception desk and takes two white coats off the rack. There’s one for Lucas and one for me. Lucas grabs for both and mine looks ridiculously small in his hands as he holds it open for me.
“I didn’t realize they came in child sizes,” he says, holding it out to me with a devilish smirk.
I grit my teeth and hold my tongue while the women of the office giggle as if his joke is funny. I’ll have my work cut out for me with this group. Grudgingly, I slip one arm in and turn my back to him. He steps forward as my other arm fills the sleeve, and it’s the closest we’ve been in 11 years. He adjusts the back of my collar and his fingers brush the back of my neck.
His helpful attempt to unsettle me backfires. With my white coat on, I feel intimidating and in charge. It’s embroidered with the logo for McCormick Family Practice on one side and Daisy Bell, M.D. on the other. Dr. McCormick stares between the two of us, tears brimming his eyes. He’s a big softie.
“It goes without saying that I’m proud of the two of you.”
I scoot a little closer to him and Lucas follows.
“Time for the rundown. I figure we’ll do a probationary period where you two get the lay of the land. You both did residencies in big cities and you’ll find that small town practices are different. Here, there are no specialists for 50 miles around. You’ll see it all, and I need to know you both can handle that.”
“And if one of us can’t handle it, what happens?” I ask innocently. Maybe I still have a chance at owning my own practice. My dream isn’t completely dead.
“Oh I doubt that will happen. You’re both capable physicians. This break-in period is more for my benefit than for yours. It’s going to be hard to let go.”
He’s skirting around it, but the fact is, he really thinks Lucas and I will be sharing the practice. I think someone spiked his breakfast with crazy pills.
“I’ve noticed you both seem to have…reservations about sharing the practice. I didn’t mean it to be some kind of trick, so I won’t hold either of you to your contract if you’d like to accept a job elsewhere. I know you both had plenty of offers.”
He doesn’t know me at all if he thinks I’ll bow out now that Lucas Thatcher is my coworker. If anything, I’m more committed to this job than ever before.
“Of course not. Thank you for this opportunity,” I say sincerely.
“I won’t take this position lightly,” Lucas follows. There are audible sighs.
Dr. McCormick chuckles and wipes at a tear that nearly falls down his cheek. Then, with a nod, he transitions the office back into work mode. “All right, well let’s get going. It’ll be a busy day. We’ve already notified the patients ahead of time that their provider will be changing. I’ll see them if they insist on it, but sooner or later, they’ll have to get used to you two being here.”
No, they’ll have to get used to me, and they will—happily. My bedside manner is excellent. I’m gentle and understanding. I’m a good listener, unlike Lucas. I’ll bet he sighs heavily and looks at his watch during appointments. I’ll bet he rushes his patients, hurrying them along when they try to give him their full history.
“If you’ll follow me,” Gina starts. “I’ll show you two to your offices.”
I beat Lucas to the door off of the reception area. He retaliates by striking up a conversation with Gina. I hold back, hoping Gina sees through his transparent efforts to endear himself to her. From the sparkle in her eyes, I suspect she’s happy to be a pawn as long as the king looks like that.
Our offices are small, basically two closets stacked side by side near the back of the building. They’ve refitted them for our use and I go on about how nice they are. I think Gina is a bit suspicious of my enthusiasm. I can hardly turn around in the small space and there’s a stack of boxes all but blocking the doorway.
“Right. Well, the kitchen is there,” she says, pointing behind her. “I make coffee in the mornings, but let me know if it’s running low and I’ll make more. Don’t leave dishes in the sink and clean up after yourselves. I’m the office manager, not the maid.”
“I’m a coffee fiend, but I’m happy to make my own,” Lucas says with a perfected smile.
She nods before she turns away, seemingly appreciating his down-to-earth attitude. It’s fake. Once she’s turned the corner back down the hallway, he and I are left alone for the first time. We stand side by side in the doorways to our offices, not moving. Our arms are crossed, and though I try to stand with my shoulders as straight as possible, he’s still got a foot on me.
“You haven’t changed one bit,” he finally says.
“Really? Because you’ve gotten much worse.”
“You’re probably right.” He finally turns to face me and I’m stunned by just how handsome the years have made him. He has a defined jaw, straight nose, and alluring brown eyes. It doesn’t seem fair. He tilts his head and I blink, aware that I’ve likely been staring for too long. “Listen Daisy, I know we have had our differences in the past, but we’ve both grown up and I just hope we can turn over a new leaf. Neither of us wants to jeopardize this opportunity, so let’s just leave the childish antics behind.”
His heartfelt speech sounds genuine, and for a moment, I wonder if it is—but then his wicked smirk betrays him. It’s insidious. A lesser woman might have believed him, but I snap his olive branch over my knee.
“I’m touched, Lucas. Did you practice that in front of your mirror last night?”
Before he can continue with his mind tricks, I turn and shut my office door. The room is thimble-sized, nearly too small for me, which means the one next door is definitely too small for Lucas. The image of him crammed inside there spreads a smile across my lips.
I drop my bag and stare down at the patient list printed out for me. There are 24 patients on the docket for the day. Eight of them are seeing Dr. McCormick, and the other 16 are divided between Dr. Thatcher and Dr. Bell.
An idea springs to mind and my hands shake with a burst of adrenaline. I turn from my desk and rip open my door, nearly sprinting back to reception.
Dr. McCormick’s probationary period is our chance to prove ourselves to him. I can continue to butter him up with coffee and compliments, and I will, but that is only Phase I of my plan: win the love of Dr. McCormick. If I ever want to realize my dream of owning the practice outright, I need to make Lucas seem like the odd man out amongst the two other groups in the equation: the office staff, and the patients. With the office staff consisting primarily of women, Lucas will inevitably have the upper hand. Apparently, most women seem to find his type attractive, and unless I am prepared to permanently disfigure his face, there is no changing that. Our patients, however, will be males and females of all ages. They will want a pleasant, compassionate doctor regardless of gender or muscle definition. If I can sway the patients to my side and Dr. McCormick hears them raving about me, he will have to rethink his decision to include Lucas in his legacy. The staff and patients are constituents in a democracy, and I will win their vote. Lucas will win a bus ticket out of town.
So begins Phase II: win the love of the office staff and patients.
I pass the two medical assistants, Mariah and Becky, as they prep the exam rooms for our patients. I smile extra wide. Gina and Casey are both sitting behind the front desk, working. Beside Gina’s computer, there is a bin full of the files for the patients coming in today. There are eight files there that I need to read, eight p
atients who range from slightly annoyed to very angry at the fact that their physician is retiring. They’re nervous and I will hold their hands and walk them through this period of change. By the time I’m done with them, they won’t even remember who Dr. McCormick was.
I’m quietly going over my patient histories when Mariah and Becky return to reception with fresh coffee in their mugs. Phase II, I think to myself, clearing my throat.
“So I know I only brought Dr. McCormick coffee this morning, but I was hoping you’d all join me for a coffee break sometime this week, my treat.” I sparkle. “Just us girl—”
The door chime aborts my kind gesture. I lean over the reception desk and narrow my eyes on a young kid carrying in two hefty bags. He has a hat on backward and eyes that say he’d rather be sleeping.
“Oh! Are those for us?” Gina stands and claps her hands with glee.
“They aren’t for me.” The kid shrugs and then looks down at the note in his hand. “They’re a delivery from some guy named Lucas.”
“It’s Dr. Thatcher,” Gina corrects him with a scowl.
The kid shrugs; at seven bucks an hour, he clearly could not care less. He wants his tip, which Lucas hands him from over my shoulder. I didn’t notice his approach and now I find myself more than a little annoyed at him for thinking of such a brilliant idea. I smell donuts, and everyone likes donuts, especially me.
“Oh, and one more thing from a…” The kid checks his note again. “Daisy.”
I glare back at Lucas, but his face is a mask of obliviousness. What game is he playing?
“That’s so sweet, you two!” Casey says, going around the desk to take the two bags from the kid so he can scurry out of the office.
The entire office trails her back to the kitchen and we watch as she unloads the two bags. In one, there are four boxes of warm donuts, glazed and iced within the last few minutes. There is visible steam rising off them.
“Those are from me,” Lucas says with a small smile.
In the other bag, Casey unwraps a sickly fruit display and I feel everyone’s smiles fall.
“And that’s from Daisy,” Lucas chimes in. “Thoughtful, right?”
The vile, off-brand Edible Arrangement sports a collection of sad, droopy melons and the occasional mushy grape impaled on a wooden skewer. It is decomposing as we speak, the color of pale flesh.
“Oh, um, what a nice idea, Dr. Bell!” Casey says through a mouthful of chocolate sprinkles. She plucks an oversized toothpick out of the display and barely covers her marked repulsion.
I stand in the doorway as each staff member slides past the buffet, loading their plates up with donuts and skipping right past the soggy fruit Lucas has attributed to me.
“Oh, I already had a fruit serving this morning,” Gina explains, not meeting my eyes as she glides out of the kitchen.
“I’ll…uh, come back for some of yours later, Daisy,” Mariah promises weakly.
When it’s Becky’s turn, she audibly gags as she passes the fruit display, just barely stifling her throw-up. She doesn’t even offer an excuse before taking two donuts.
Lucas and I are alone in the kitchen and I’m shaking with rage. I’m not even upset with him—I’m upset with myself. I’ve underestimated him and I won’t let it happen again.
He steps around me, reaching for a small white paper bag I’d overlooked before. It’s a special delivery and he holds it right out to me.
“Bavarian cream.”
I want to smash it in his face and cloud his lenses.
“I’ve already had breakfast.”
My stomach grumbles in dissent, but he doesn’t mention it.
“Right. I’ll just leave it right here.” He holds eye contact as he drops the bag back on the counter. His eyes are light brown, the color of walnuts. It’s no coincidence I’ve never been able to stomach that particular nut.
My morning passes with awkward patient encounters and secret, spiteful bites into the Bavarian cream donut I was forced to accept. I take the last bite just as Lucas walks by my office, and he surveys me suspiciously.
“Granola bar,” I say as flecks of carbohydrates escape my lips.
“Nobody’s accusing you,” he says. “But if you’re not going to eat that donut I gave you, I’m sure Dr. M would like a bite. Can I have it back?”
“Oh, I had to toss it—it smelled like the cream had soured,” I mumble in between swallows.
Around lunchtime, Dr. McCormick calls us into his office. I assume it’s because he’s already made his decision and has decided to let Lucas go.
“Sit down, you little rock stars.” He waves to the worn leather chairs in front of his desk.
Lucas graciously holds out his arm to indicate I should sit first. I watch carefully as I sit, just on the off chance that he’s planning to yank the chair out from under me. I doubt he would stoop to such depths in front of Dr. McCormick, but after this morning’s little stunt, I take nothing for granted.
“As much as I appreciated the little banquet this morning, I don’t want you two to think you need to bring in treats every day to get on my good side.” He pats his stomach as if to say his health won’t hold up if our gamesmanship continues. “Although my truck is due for an oil change, if you really wanted to earn my favor,” he adds with a laugh.
Lucas rolls up his white coat sleeves as if he’s about to pop the hood of Dr. McCormick’s car himself. “Conventional or synthetic?”
Kiss-ass.
“I’ll tell you what I really want to see out of you two: warmth, and investment in your neighbors. You see, I pride myself on running a practice that engages with the community. Too often, doctors get so caught up in making money that they forget the reason they got into medicine in the first place, which is to help people. Tell me, do either of you remember the fourth line of the Hippocratic Oath?”
Lucas and I glare at each other nervously before shaking our heads.
“I wouldn’t expect you to, but it holds a special meaning for me, so I’ve got it hangin’ right here.” He points to a framed print on the wall behind him. “‘I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon’s knife or the chemist’s drug’,” he recites.
I nod reverently. “That’s my favorite part.”
Lucas stares into the side of my head and I can feel the waves of disdain rolling off him.
“You kids are fresh out of residency, and while I’m sure you think you know what it means to be a family doctor, be assured that you still have a lot to learn. In a small town like this, generations pass before your very eyes. From this humble office, I’ve watched children grow up and start bringing in children of their own. I’ve been with old folks when they die. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’ll become more than just a doctor to these people, you’ll become a part of their families. Do you two think you can handle that kind of responsibility?”
I’ve leaned so far forward during his speech that I nearly fall off my chair when I nod.
“Yes,” Lucas and I say in unison.
“Good. Then for the next few months, I’m going to challenge you. I want to see passion, even when I’m throwing my toughest patients at you. I want to see innovation, to see that you’re not just going through the motions like so many doctors do these days. Surprise me! I want you to be the best!”
The energy radiating off Lucas and me is palpable. We are the Titans and Dr. McCormick is Denzel. I want to bang my helmet against the locker room wall and yell HOORAH.
“I won’t let you down, sir,” Lucas says, standing.
I clamor to my feet and step toward the desk with my hand outstretched. “My entire life has led up to this moment.”
Dr. McCormick smiles at each of us and then we are excused for our afternoon appointments. There was tension before, but Dr. McCormick has just ratcheted it up to unprecedented levels. He has blown the starter pistol and we sprint out of his room, pushing each
other down the long hallway.
“You’re going to embarrass yourself if you stay,” I taunt.
We’re feet away from our individual offices and I’m thinking I’m going to escape inside when he turns and cages me in against the wall. I don’t cower; I press right up against him, tilting my head back to stare into his ugly walnut eyes.
He reaches out and fingers the patch on my white coat. “When you’re packing your bags in a few weeks, I’ll let you keep this coat so you can always remember what might have been.”
I think he can feel my heart racing beneath the fabric. Infuriating. I don’t have a good enough comeback, so I go on the offensive.
“Did you hear him in there? He’s not looking for a golfing buddy, he’s looking for warmth.” I brush down the side of his face with the velvet back of my hand. “And what could be warmer than a woman’s touch?”
Aside from a twitch of his cheek, he is unmoved.
“Was that really your favorite part of the oath?”
“If it’s Dr. McCormick’s favorite, then it’s mine too,” I say with an innocent smile.
His eyes narrow. “I didn’t realize you were a puppet now. If I stick my hand in you, will you do my bidding as well?”
Mariah coughs politely and we’re suddenly aware of her presence at the end of the hall. “Sorry to interrupt sir, er…ma’am, Dr. Bell, but Mrs. Harris is ready to see you in room three.”
I smile and duck under Lucas’ arm like we’re done, but we’re far from it. I brush past Mariah, thank her for the chart, and walk away from the firefight before a stray shot clips me on the way out. As soon as I turn the corner, my confident smile drops.
It is time to initiate Phase III: force Lucas out.
At 6:00 PM, I straighten up my desk and begin to pack up. The few leftover donuts are quickly claimed, and Gina loads me up with the fruit display that may as well have cartoonish stink lines drifting up from it.
