“Doing what? We’re not very interesting.” Marge blew on her coffee.
“Speak for yourself,” said Phyllis. “I find myself extremely interesting.”
Anabelle hid a grin. She suspected Phyllis was only half kidding. “Valera needs a list of people to contact to interview,” she told the others. “I would like you to help me come up with a list of maybe a dozen or so of the most interesting and compelling cases that have come through the hospital.”
“Within what time frame?” Phyllis wanted to know.
Anabelle shrugged. “I don't know that there is one, although I would think the patient should still be living. These are success stories that showcase the reasons the community needs us.”
Marge's broad brow wrinkled; she looked troubled. “We can't turn over the names of former patients to a reporter,” she said. “That goes against every privacy law ever created.”
“We won't be giving these names out at all,” Anabelle explained. “I’m going to run our list by Dr. Hamilton and ask him to rank them in order of interest. Then Albert Varner, the CEO, will send out letters asking these people to volunteer to be interviewed. Once we get a list of volunteers, Valera can take it from there.”
Marge was nodding. “That works for me,” she said.
“I’ve already drafted a letter,” Anabelle said. “I’d like you to read over it to see if you think it sounds appropriate. Now, put on your thinking caps. Let's make a list.”
“How about the fellow who was struck by lightning last year?” Marge asked. “I still can't believe he didn't suffer brain damage. His heart stopped three times.”
“What was his name?” Anabelle snapped her fingers impatiently as she thought, but the name remained firmly lodged in her memory just out of reach.
Phyllis, of course, knew the name immediately.
Anabelle pulled a small notepad and pen from her pocket and began to write. “Good one. Who else?”
“The boy who fell out of the tree house,” Phyllis said.
“That family with two sets of triplets.”
“Oh, I know a good one. How about that pregnant woman who was in the car accident a couple years ago? Her baby was delivered by C-section in the ambulance….”
Chapter Fifteen
ELENA HAD JUST SETTLED A NEW PATIENT IN A BED when she saw Zane McGarry standing at the nurses’ station as she came down the hall.
“Hello.” She greeted him with a warm smile. “What are you doing up here?”
Zane looked at her soberly. “I just thought you ought to know Freddie Innisk is gunning for you. He is hopping mad that you managed to get that board meeting rescheduled.”
“Oh no.” Elena's heart sank as she recalled the unpleasant scene she’d already had with the board member.
“I’m sorry, Elena,” Zane said. “His wealth makes him a powerful man in this community.”
“Can he stop the project altogether?” she asked in a stricken voice.
Zane shrugged. “I think he's trying. And I think he's probably got a fifty-fifty chance of success. Although from what I hear, you were extremely persuasive with your home visits and phone calls on Sunday.” He looked away from her. “The board is having another meeting tomorrow.”
Elena took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “I’m going to ‘let go and let God,’ as they say. I’ve done everything I can. I don't want to become a pest.”
Zane searched her face as a slow smile began to chase away his grim expression. “‘Let go and let God.’ Can't say I’ve ever really tried it, but I may go home and say a few prayers.”
“All right.” She held up her hand in a high five, and with a laugh, Zane slapped his palm against hers.
Candace left the hospital after her shift ended on Tuesday. Spring had yielded to summer, and the days were often muggy and hot now. She opened her car door, ducked in, and turned on the engine, then pushed the automatic buttons to roll down all the windows to let out some of the accumulated heat, while she waited for the air-conditioning in the vehicle to start churning out cold air.
“Candace?” She turned at the sound of her name.
“Mrs. Hunt, hello.” She remembered that the woman's grandfather had founded the hospital. It shouldn't be surprising to see her here.
“I was visiting a friend,” Mrs. Hunt said. Her silver hair gleamed in the bright sunlight, and she was as impeccably attired as she had been at church, in a skirt ensemble of pink and lavender. “May we speak for a moment?”
“Of course. Would you like to go inside and get something to drink?”
Mrs. Hunt smiled at her. “That's all right, dear. This will only take a moment.”
Candace returned the smile. She could only hope to be as vibrant as Mrs. Hunt in a couple more decades.
“I did a little bit of sleuthing after our telephone conversation,” the older woman began. “And I got some very interesting information. After that, I visited Fred Innisk.” She smiled. “I think it's safe to say he won't be bad-mouthing any more attempts to save the hospital.”
Candace was both surprised and curious. “Just like that, he's going to stop? Why?”
“Apparently, dear old Freddie has invested heavily in the medical center that is projected to open in town in two years.”
“I didn't know he was involved in that. There will be several new specialists taking office space there. If the hospital stays open, that is.” Her smile dimmed. “I’m afraid that if it doesn’t, we won't be able to keep any of our doctors in town.”
Mrs. Hunt nodded. “It's a legitimate concern.”
“But why is it significant that Mr. Innisk is involved in that project?”
“Because, dear…” Mrs. Hunt allowed the suspense to build for another moment. “One of the things he's pushing for is an emergency clinic in the medical center. The only way that would be feasible is if Hope Haven Hospital could no longer handle emergencies.”
Candace's mouth fell open. “What a sneaky little man!”
“Exactly.” Mrs. Hunt made a face as if she had smelled something very rank. “Fred's investment will be worth a great deal more if this emergency clinic becomes reality. So although I don't believe he's actively sabotaging the hospital, he certainly is doing his best to sabotage any efforts at fund-raising to keep it open.”
Candace was dismayed. “So what can we do?”
Mrs. Hunt's smile reminded Candace of the Cheshire cat in Brooke's illustrated version of Alice in Wonderland. “Oh, you don't have to do anything. I took the opportunity to point out to Freddie that his credibility in this town will suffer significantly if anyone finds out what he's been up to. Image is very, very important to him. He might not be happy about it, but he won't be making any more trouble for your fund-raising team.”
Candace could hardly believe it. “Thank you, Mrs. Hunt. Thank you. My friend Elena, who came up with the Wall of Hope, will be so relieved.”
“As will we all, if we can keep our little jewel of a hospital open,” Mrs. Hunt reminded her.
James didn't meet his friends for lunch on Wednesday. Instead, he took the latest lunch on his shift, and he used the computer and printer in the staff lounge to prepare several more résumés and cover letters, which he signed, addressed and stamped. He couldn't let Fern see these. They were mostly in Peoria, although two were clear over in a suburb of Chicago.
He was becoming increasingly convinced that the hospital couldn't stay open. Elena had a wonderful idea with her Wall of Hope, but he couldn't imagine how that could possibly raise enough money to keep the hospital afloat.
Placing the stamp on the final envelope, James sealed it, then took the elevator down to the first floor. On one side of the registration desk was a special bin for staff members’ outgoing mail, and he tossed the new batch of job inquiries in there. Then, still brooding about the idea of changing jobs, he returned to the second floor.
Candace was alone in the nurses’ station when he approached. As he clocked back in, she sa
id, “Hi. We missed you at lunch.”
He knew there was no accusation in her tone. Candace was the last person on earth who would fuss at him. Still, he felt defensive as he said, “I had some things to take care of,” without looking in her direction.
“You missed the big announcement.”
He looked over at her. “What big announcement?”
She was grinning a very wide, excited un-Candace-like grin. “Elena's project was approved by the board today!”
He was stunned. Yes, stunned. Despite all his encouraging words, he hadn't really expected Elena to come out on top in a battle with an influential Deerford heavyweight. “That's terrific!” And now he felt really badly for missing lunch. “I’m sorry I missed it,” he said sincerely.
“Me too. Life does tend to get in the way of fun, doesn't it?” Her voice was light and warm, and suddenly he felt regret for not letting the others know he wouldn't be at lunch. At the very least, he could have notified one of them. For Pete's sake, they all worked on the same floor of the same building.
And then he realized he also felt the need to share his worries with her.
“I’m sending résumés out of the area,” he said baldly.
Her fingers stopped flying over the keyboard, and there was a moment of silence in the little area. “Have you tried finding other work in Deerford?” she asked.
He nodded. “No luck. I really don't want to have to move my family, but I have to have a job.”
She nodded as she swiveled her chair around to face him. “I know.”
Then it struck him. She really did know. Unlike Anabelle and Elena, Candace was the only provider in her family, which also included three other people. “Aren't you worried?” he asked, searching her eyes as he turned to face her.
“I’m concerned,” she said carefully. “But I have faith in this little community. I believe enough people care about Hope Haven to help keep the hospital open.”
“Maybe that's my problem,” James mused. “Not enough faith.”
“I understand your feelings, though. It's not prudent to ignore reality.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“I don't think so,” she said. “I’m just not ready to look for another position yet. I’m going to do my best to support and encourage the Wall of Hope and see what happens.”
“I wish I had your optimism,” he said.
A startled laugh escaped Candace, and he looked up. She was often the most serious one of their little group, and he rarely had heard her laugh aloud. “I don't consider myself particularly optimistic,” she said. “But I’ve been praying about this, and I believe God will answer our prayers. We may not always like the answers; but with His help, we can live with whatever comes along.”
James was acutely aware of the way in which his friend had come by her apparent serenity. Despite the gravity of Fern's illness, he suddenly felt self-absorbed and not very trusting compared to her.
As if she read his mind, Candace said, “We all have different challenges to surmount, and we all deal with them in different ways. You’ll meet and surpass this challenge, James.”
He only wished he could be as certain.
That evening, Candace and her mother were working together on dinner. Janet was getting an eggplant Parmesan dish out of the oven while Candace set the table.
“Mom?” Candace waited until her mother had set the piping hot casserole dish atop the stove before she spoke.
Janet turned with a smile on her face. “Yes?”
“Do you think I should be job hunting?”
Janet's smile faded, and two vertical lines appeared between her eyebrows. “I don't know. I don't know enough about what's going on at the hospital to answer that. But the fact that you’re mentioning it tells me it's a concern. Why do you ask?”
Candace shrugged. “I honestly hadn't thought much about looking for a new job. I thought the Wall of Hope would solve the insolvency problems and all the hospital's money woes. But I guess I’m naive. One of my friends has been actively looking for a new job. He hasn't found anything local, so he's begun sending résumés out to other areas—so far away that if he's successful, his family would have to move.”
Janet grimaced in dismay. “Move? Having to adjust to a new school might be very difficult for Brooke.”
Candace nodded. “That's exactly what I thought. It's bad enough that she's still having grief issues, but she's also on the verge of adolescence.”
“Do you feel as if you should be job hunting?” her mother asked.
Candace shrugged. “I didn't until today, when James and I discussed it. But just like him, I’m the primary supporter for our family; and I shouldn't be waiting until the last minute to think about it.”
“I’m going to put my trust in the Lord,” Janet said. “Listen to Him, honey. In your heart, you’ll hear what you need to do. And if that means moving to Peoria or who-knows-where, we’ll all find a way to make it work. Even Brooke.”
Candace tried to chuckle, although it was a poor effort. “As if living through adolescence isn't hideous enough without other complications.”
Janet did laugh then. “Yes, I don't know many people who would willingly relive it. Especially the middle-school years.”
“Grammy? Why are you talking about school?”
Candace whirled around. One of these days, Brooke was going to give her a heart attack with the way she silently drifted into a room. Had she heard any of the discussion about moving? Given the problems Brooke was having right now, that would be extremely upsetting for the child. “Grammy and I were just thinking about you being in sixth grade next fall.” She tugged on a lock of her daughter's hair as Brooke moved to her side. “How did you grow up so fast?”
“I don't want to go to sixth grade.” There was a hint of fear in Brooke's voice, but Candace relaxed as she realized Brooke had only come in on the very tail end of their chat.
“Sixth doesn't sound like fun?” Candace filled water glasses, using a plastic one for Howie rather than the glass the others were using.
“No,” Brooke said definitively. “Some of my friends are excited, but I’m not.”
“I suppose you could stay in fifth at Rishell,” Candace said. “But it might be weird with your friends all in sixth.”
“Mommy.” Brooke gave her a look that Candace suspected she would be seeing all too often over the next few years. “You know I’m going. But I’m not looking forward to it.” Her tone was both dignified and melancholy.
Brooke was such a little adult sometimes that it broke Candace's heart. If her life hadn't been rocked by the loss of her daddy, might she have been different?
“I know you’re not.” Candace gave her daughter a hug before handing her napkins and nudging her toward the table to put one by each place. “But at least keep an open mind. You may like it better than you expect.”
“I’m not so sure. We’ll be changing rooms for every single class. Changing for every subject doesn't sound very efficient to me.”
Candace stared at her daughter. “I suppose it's not. Although I don't know that I ever thought about it quite that way.”
“So why do they do it?”
“Because by the time you get to middle school, your subjects get more and more complicated and teachers have to specialize.” That sounded like a good rationale, and she warmed to her theme. “An algebra teacher isn't going to be as good as a teacher who focuses purely on English. And an English teacher would have a hard time knowing as much as someone who only teaches science.”
Brooke's eyebrows rose. “Oh.” Setting down the last napkin, she wandered out of the room.
“Go find your brother and wash your hands,” Janet called. “It's time to eat.”
Candace stared after her daughter. “My explanation satisfied her?” she asked incredulously. “What's the date? I’m going to write this down.”
On Thursday morning, Elena arrived at the hospital early. She closed and locked the do
or of her Jeep Liberty, and then she started toward the building, deep in thought.
She needed to write thank-you notes to Quintessa, Zane, Albert Varner and the board of directors. Well, all the directors except for Mr. Innisk. And her three closest friends here at Hope Haven too. They deserved thanks for being such terrific supporters.
“Elena?” A pleasant masculine voice made her look to her left.
Dr. David Weller was coming toward her. One of the ER physicians, Dr. Weller was barely a year out of medical school, driven and enthusiastic. Elena didn't know him well, and she hadn't realized he knew her name.
Dr. Weller extended a hand and introduced himself, as if she didn't know who he was. His handshake was so vigorous she decided it was a good thing she didn't need her fingers for anything important like surgery. “I heard about the Wall of Hope. It's a terrific idea,” he told her. “I’d like to help in any way I can.”
“Thank you.” She matched his bright smile with one of her own. “I could give you some brochures to share with patients you see in the ER, if you think that would be all right.”
“I’m sure that will be fine,” he said confidently. “If you think of anything else, don't hesitate to call me.”
“Thank you.” There were not many people who Elena felt matched her energy level, but Dr. Weller certainly was right up there with her, she realized as she watched him stride toward the building. She supposed, she thought with a small grin, that some people might characterize her as overzealous.
“Good morning, Ms. Rodriguez.” The stiff female voice belonged to the equally stiff Leila Hargrave, the nursing administrator. Mrs. Hargrave oversaw the entire nursing program. A short, plump woman, she always wore her gray hair in a tight bun at the back of her head.
“Good morning, Mrs. Hargrave.” Elena would no sooner have called the woman Leila than she would leap off the Willis Tower. There were not very many people who intimidated Elena, but Mrs. Hargrave was near the top of her short list. Possibly right ahead of Albert Varner's scary executive assistant with the green thumb.
“I wanted to speak with you,” Leila said, her gray eyes looking Elena up and down.
The Best Medicine Page 15
