#SandyBottom

by Alexi Venice

  “I’m sure we could tour it after this meeting if you want to,” Neal said.

  “It’s locked, you know. The program director is pretty busy, so you’d have to make an appointment. Your nurse might be able to arrange it,” Christie said.

  “Oh. Is that something you’d be interested in?” Neal asked Jen.

  “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Jen said.

  “I’ll go ask Lois to make the call. Be right back,” Neal said and left the room.

  Christie smiled. “So, in terms of our practice, we work closely with other specialties within the clinic. That’s the beauty of working here—we’re all under one roof. As internists, we’re frequently the hub of the wheel for complex patient care, so we rely on our specialty colleagues to be readily available, which they are.”

  Gary snorted.

  Christie turned on him. “What? Do you disagree?”

  He shook his head. “No. I don’t disagree with you, but I wouldn’t oversell it either. I’ve been a little frustrated lately with a patient of mine who’s been in the CCU for a week.” He ran his hand over his forehead. “Never mind. It isn’t representative of our normal, everyday practice.”

  Neal opened the door and rejoined them. His trim body was full of energy. “Lois got us a tour of the daycare in 15 minutes. We should be wrapped up here by then, don’t you think?”

  “I want to make sure we answer all of Jen’s questions,” Christie said.

  “What kind of electronic medical record system do you have?” Jen asked.

  Gary groaned.

  Christie cast him a threatening look.

  Neal answered. “Epic. We just converted from Cerner last summer. That’s what the groaning is about. Are you familiar with it?”

  “Oh yes. We use Epic at the Cohen Clinic,” Jen said, deducing that Gary was a dinosaur and a whiner.

  “Do you like it?” Gary asked suspiciously.

  “I was trained early in my career on it, so I like it just fine,” Jen said.

  He hmphed in response.

  “What other questions do you have for us?” Christie asked with a warm smile.

  “How many patients do you see per day?” Jen asked.

  “As few as possible,” Gary said.

  “Shut it, Gary,” Christie said. “Not funny.”

  “That depends on the day,” Neal said, taking over. Jen was beginning to understand why Neal was recruiting her. “We’re required to open our calendars for patient contact from nine in the morning to five in the evening. We get an afternoon off to recoup for taking call, but otherwise, we’re expected to be in clinic. There isn’t a quota for seeing patients because each patient’s needs are different. We’re expected to meet their needs. So, I might see eight patients in a day or eighteen. It just depends on the patient mix for the day.”

  “Do you round on patients in the adjoining hospital?” Jen asked.

  “Not anymore,” Gary said sarcastically. “That used to be the favorite part of my practice, but they took that away from us when they hired hospitalists and intensivists.”

  “Geez, Gary,” Christie said. “Do you want Jen to come here or not? You make everything sound so negative.”

  “Who’s ‘they?’” Jen asked.

  “Gary is talking about our administrative leadership—” Neal began.

  “I’m just trying to paint a realistic picture, so Jen doesn’t get herself into a situation she later regrets,” Gary interrupted. “She doesn’t have a man in her life to point things out and bounce things off of, so I’m trying to do that for her.”

  “Oh no,” Neal said, adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses. “Ignore him, Jen. He means well but hasn’t kept up with the times, I’m afraid.”

  “There are plenty of men at Summerfield Clinic who are available, if you know what I mean,” Gary said.

  Christie put her hand on Gary’s arm. “Please stop. Just stop talking, Gary.”

  Jen smiled politely. Really? She was so tired of expressing patience for this type of ignorance. She questioned how many more “Garys” were at Summerfield Clinic. She attempted a business-like tone because she didn’t want to come off as a bitch, but just the same. “Thank you for your concern, Gary. If we end up working together, I’d like you to know that I don’t need a man to point things out for me. I have men in my life, to whom I’m truly grateful, but I also have women in my life. I’m more than content with the people around me, and can usually see things for myself.”

  Gary raised his arms at Neal and Christie. “I can’t say anything anymore. I guess I’ll just be quiet.”

  “That would be good. Practice your listening skills,” Christie said, pointing to her own ears.

  Neal wrung his hands. “Well, if we’re wrapped up here, I can answer your questions on our way over to the daycare, Jen.”

  Christie mouthed “I’m sorry” at Jen.

  They all stood and shook hands.

  “Here’s my business card,” Christie handed it to Jen. “Call me anytime. I think you’d like it here.”

  “Thanks. It was nice meeting you,” Jen said.

  “Let me show you our exam rooms and offices before we head to the daycare,” Neal said, guiding Jen out of the conference room and down the hallway. Once they were out of earshot of Gary, Neal said, “I’m sorry about Gary. He had a patient cancel this morning, so he joined us. It was difficult to get all the physicians together to meet you on such short notice, so I welcomed him. I can see that was a mistake. A few younger physicians will be at dinner tonight though.”

  Normally, Jen would say something like, Oh good. I can’t wait to meet them , and look for the positive in humanity. However, in this instance, she had a niggling feeling that Gary might be the barometer of the clinic. She needed to get a handle on the culture. “Neal, I don’t want to be rude, but I need to be honest with you, and I’d ask the same of you.”

  “Of course,” he said, opening the back hallway door that took them out to a main corridor.

  “I have a daughter with Tommy, who you met at Fireside, but Tommy and I aren’t together any longer. I’m gay, and I’m not in the closet. Will I be the only gay physician here? Are other physicians and staff going to whisper behind my back, ‘She’s a lesbian, you know.’”

  Neal coughed. When he tried to speak, his voice cracked, so he cleared his throat a second time. “Um. Well. Yes, that I know of? I mean, we don’t really discuss who’s gay and who isn’t. We have more than 300 physicians on staff and more than 5,000 employees in the region, so I assume that we have a reasonable amount of diversity, you know?”

  Jen felt frustration pulling at her insides. “Thank you for being honest. I don’t know why I’m asking, because I grew up in Wisconsin, and I feel like I should know the people. However, I wasn’t out and proud back then. The Cohen Clinic is so open and accepting that I just don’t know if I could take a step backward in my life. Does this make sense to you?”

  “Absolutely,” he said. “And, don’t misinterpret Gary’s remarks. He isn’t biased or anything. He’s just paternalistic. He’s going to retire in six months, so you wouldn’t have to work with him.”

  “It isn’t Gary, specifically, as much as a Boy Scoutish culture that I’m worried about,” Jen said. “I don’t want to be ‘a novelty’ or not really accepted. There are differences in merely being tolerated, being accepted, or truly belonging. Where I work now, I have a sense of belonging. It feels natural. I need to know if I would belong here.”

  They walked for several feet before Neal answered. “I don’t know if I’m the best person to talk to about those nuances. I can tell you that my viewpoint is that you not only would be accepted here but also respected and well-liked.”

  She had a foreboding sense that this vast corporate environment would be very different from the cozy Cohen Clinic where everyone knew each other very well. Perhaps too well. They were in each other’s business all the time, but Jen liked it that way. She was stumbling onto a paradox that s
he had found a small-town atmosphere at the Cohen Clinic in a big city versus the corporate feel she was getting from this mega clinic in a small town.

  Neal was polite though, in a studied, professional kind of way. He was very corporate-looking in his grey suit and striped tie, his brown/grey hair neatly groomed.

  “Do you enjoy being the chair of your department?” she asked.

  “I don’t mind the responsibility. How could you tell?”

  “Just an air of authority about you.”

  “We rotate the chair position every seven years or so.” He opened a double door to the outside and led Jen across the street to the daycare facility. “If leadership is something that interests you, I’m confident you could rotate into the chair position too.”

  She smiled politely even though she didn’t believe him.

  Twenty

  After Jen’s tour of the daycare, Neal walked her through several other areas of the clinic, introducing her to colleagues along the way. She was flattered by his devotion of most of his afternoon, and evening, to her recruitment, amazed at his unfailing formality and courteous manner, whether hard-wired into his personality or institutionally groomed.

  He also arranged for a realtor to show her a few upscale neighborhoods before dinner, so she could get a feel for how far her nickel could go in Eau Claire. When she walked through four-bedroom houses with substantial yards for less than $300,000, she was seriously considering moving. Her point of comparison was San Francisco, where they would fetch at least $3 million. If she moved, she could afford her own house, solidifying her independence from Amanda’s asshattery. It all seemed too good to be true.

  To top off a promising afternoon, the physicians who attended the dinner were much more tuned in than Gary-the-dinosaur. They were contemporary, well-educated people who came to Eau Claire for the same reasons she was considering moving, lifestyle and job opportunity. None were born or raised in Wisconsin, so they were impressed that she was a native who wanted to return. Jen was surprised that she actually enjoyed herself, the prospect of calling them her peers well within her comfort zone. They were much more relaxed and natural than corporate-Neal.

  She had to give him credit, however, for doing a splendid job of wining and dining her, and for that she was grateful. Anxious to begin the next segment of her evening—with Victoria—Jen thanked Neal immediately after coffee and dessert in a tone that signaled the end of her evening.

  “I hope you got a good feel for the practice today,” Neal said, now dressed in a short-sleeve button-down that matched the navy hue in his slacks. He had changed from his suit into business-casual attire before dinner, making her suspicious of how much time and attention he devoted to clothes. His neat grooming and sartorial acumen seemed out of character for a physician with a busy clinical practice. In her experience, physicians were notoriously sloppy dressers, wearing iodine and casting stains proudly.

  “I did. Thank you for being so generous with your time. I appreciate your hospitality.” Jen knew she sounded noncommittal and clipped, but she was ready to leave. She could feel her phone vibrating with messages in her jacket pocket and was dying to check it.

  “So, you’ll be in touch then?” Neal asked.

  “I will,” she said. “You have my cell number as well?” She pushed back slightly from the table. “Thank you everyone. I enjoyed meeting all of you.”

  Everyone stood and shook her hand as they left the restaurant area toward the door. Jen noticed a few peeling off for the bar, but she kept a straight bearing toward the parking lot.

  Ever the stickler to etiquette, Neal walked Jen outside to her mother’s car, which presented nicely for this occasion. She thought Neal was going a bit beyond, considering he had made a big deal about how safe Eau Claire was, so she found his escort to be ironic. She clicked the fob, and the sedan’s lights flashed.

  Neal chuckled. “We don’t have to lock our cars in Eau Claire. In fact, I usually leave my keys in the center console.

  “How many recruits have you told that?” she asked.

  “Every single one of them.”

  “And how many have had their cars stolen as a result?”

  He laughed. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Jen. Have a safe drive back.”

  “I’m actually staying in town tonight.”

  “Oh. I just assumed. I didn’t see a hotel reservation on your itinerary.”

  “I’m staying with a high school friend,” she said.

  “Nice to know you have friends in Eau Claire too. Enjoy your stay.”

  They shook hands again—she hoped for the final time or she would suffocate from politeness—and she slid in behind the wheel. She caught a glimpse of him in her side mirror as he walked across the parking lot toward his own car, his bald head gleaming in the glow of the streetlamp.

  She immediately removed her iPhone and replied to a few texts from Tommy and her mother. Everything was fine with Kristin, so Jen could relax.

  There was a text from Victoria, which was polite, considering Jen had ignored her all day.

  Hope your day is going well…a glass of wine awaits you.

  Jen replied, Finally wrapped up. On my way.

  She plugged Victoria’s address into her Maps app and took a deep breath. The closer she got to Victoria’s house, the more uncertain she became. Her breathing turned shallow, and trepidation prickled her insides. In the abstract, having revenge sex—no, she told herself that wasn’t what she was doing—sounded so deserved and carefree. In reality, she was about to enter another woman’s home, a woman she knew very little about, and possibly, actually probably, maybe most likely, sleep with her. Her intention bumped up against her historically conservative sex life. The incongruity was almost laughable. Maybe that’s what shocked Tommy on the porch this morning…

  There was still time to back out. She could arrive, say hi, and tell Victoria that Kristin wasn’t feeling well, so she had to return to her parents’ lake cabin. It would be the perfect, unassailable excuse. She tucked it in her back pocket, ready to deploy if the mood didn’t feel right.

  Jen drove to the south side of Eau Claire, turned into a swanky neighborhood, and spied Victoria’s address carved into a mammoth rock slab next to a very long driveway. She turned in and ogled a mostly glass, modern house accented by a landing strip of lights that probably could be seen from outer space. She parked in the spacious circular driveway and got out next to a massive solar panel on a small building that looked custom-built to house it. The dogs she had met at Victoria’s lake cabin greeted her, sounding warning bells but wagging their tails.

  “Hello, Reggie,” she said to the black, standard poodle. “And…What’s your name?” she asked the old, black lab with a grey muzzle.

  He didn’t let on.

  “Not very forthcoming, are we?” she asked him.

  He wagged harder.

  Jen grabbed her roller bag from the back seat and proceeded toward the oversized front door, flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows. She caught a flash of movement inside before the door opened to Victoria, who looked exotic in a tight tank, skirt and native American wrap around her tanned shoulders. She was adorned with layers of bead necklaces and handmade bangles. Her hair long and loose, she wore no makeup but for a deep shade of cinnamon lipstick.

  In comparison, Jen felt stuffy and conservative in her navy sundress, pearls and white blazer.

  “Hello, Dr. Dawson,” Victoria drawled.

  “Hi, Victoria. You have an amazing house.”

  “Thank you. Come in.” Victoria swept the door wide to a wood parquet foyer that reflected the soft light glowing from metallic wall sconces.

  As soon as Jen released her roller bag, Victoria took Jen’s hand in hers and kissed the top. “I’m so glad you’re here. Can I offer you a glass of wine? Something stronger?”

  Jen had consumed a few glasses of wine over dinner, so she decided to stay the course while her nerves settled. “Wine would be lovely, and if I could just change
out of these work clothes to relax…”

  “Of course,” Victoria said. “Silly me. I changed a long time ago. You look gorgeous by the way. Very professional. Follow me.”

  Jagged breaths raked Jen’s windpipe, as she followed Victoria up an open staircase to the second level, whose main characteristic was plush, beige carpeting that Jen thought would be a disaster with children. She pictured spilled juice and finger paint.

  “This is my suite. Set your bag anywhere, and make yourself comfortable. The bathroom is through those doors. I’ll be in the kitchen opening a bottle of wine. Take your time.” Victoria touched Jen’s forearm on her way out, closing the door behind her.

  Jen was again struck by Victoria’s exquisite eye for detail and flare for understatement in this stunning, very calculatingly-decorated house.

  She set her bag on a celery-colored bench at the end of the bed, and fished out a white tank with a blue and white, very wrinkled, check camp shirt. She threw on some black golf shorts, admiring her tanned, athletic body in the full-length mirror next to a set of dressers.

  She brushed her teeth and cleansed her face, washing away the stress of the day. Now wasn’t the time to process the job interview. That would come later. Regarding herself in the bathroom mirror, she liked what she saw, as she ran a brush through the long strands of her golden hair. By any measure, she was a beautiful woman, so she wouldn’t allow herself to be intimidated by Victoria’s confidence in her fortress of impeccable taste.

  Barefoot on the plush carpet, Jen padded downstairs to find Victoria in the kitchen.

  “Hungry?” Victoria asked, her predatory eyes scanning Jen’s low neckline and long legs.

  Jen smiled. “Just wine, but you go ahead and eat.”

  “Maybe later,” Victoria said, not bothering to disguise the innuendo in her voice.

  A whoosh of something devious hit Jen’s core. She accepted the chilled glass of white wine, and they clinked and drank.

  “Let’s get comfortable in front of the fire,” Victoria said.

  Fire? Jen thought. It’s still in the 70s outside.