by Amanda Tru
Geneva tightened her jaw and shook her head. “Kara and Allie lived in Portland during her previous bout with cancer. Kara moved back here after Allie went into remission. With her divorce final and Allie now healthy, there was no reason to stay. Allie will need to see a new doctor, and I’d like to make the referral before talking to Kara. It will help to have an appointment already on the calendar.”
Ilene nodded with her pen at the ready. “I will call right now and schedule the soonest available appointment. Which doctor?”
“Dr. Carter Solomon.”
Ilene froze with her pen poised in a ready position that would only remain frustrated, never actually making it to the page. She hesitated, obviously trying to choose her words carefully. “Dr. Hutchins, I understand wanting Allie to see Dr. Solomon. After all, he’s one of the top childhood cancer doctors in the nation, and he’s only an hour away in Brighton Falls. But my understanding is that the man is booked out until the day after forever. He only accepts patients after reviewing their files, and it’s nearly impossible to get in. I guess I could try. It might take several days for a review of Allie’s file. At least we can find out how long the wait will be. If we actually get through the review process, Dr. Solomon usually refers unaccepted patients to the doctor he feels could best treat them, so it might not be a complete waste of time. I can get everything ready to send out tomorrow. Let me just find their fax number…”
Ilene turned back to her computer, hurriedly clicking through screens.
“I’ll take care of the referral,” Geneva announced casually. She glanced at the clock, realizing that she only had five minutes before the long hand clicked the hour to 5:00. “Go ahead and get Allie’s files ready, Ilene. I want them sent out tonight.”
Ilene looked at her with a bewildered expression as if worried that Geneva had suddenly gone deaf and not heard a word of what she’d said, but after gawking at Geneva for a solid twenty seconds, she obediently turned to the computer to see what records could be sent electronically and what required faxing.
Geneva chewed her lip and held a staring match with that persistent little second hand on the clock. She didn’t want to make this call. Everything Ilene had said was entirely accurate. Carter Solomon was a big wig in medical circles—the golden boy, the miracle worker—and it was a reputation that he deserved.
A primary care physician didn’t just pick up the phone, call his office, and say, “pretty please accept my patient.”
Yet, that was precisely what she intended to do.
For Allie.
Taking a deep breath, Geneva dialed the number on her computer screen before she could think twice or rehearse what she wanted to say.
Wanting to bypass the office’s automated message, at the sound of the call connecting, Geneva insistently pressed the 0 button.
“Hello, Dr. Solomon’s office,” the receptionist said in a tired voice threaded with impatience. With three minutes until her workday ended, she obviously did not relish the idea of one more phone call.
“Hello, my name is Dr. Geneva Hutchins. Can you please give a message to Dr. Solomon requesting that he return my call?”
The receptionist took down Geneva’s number and asked robotically, “What should I state this is regarding? Do you share a patient? If so, I’ll need the name and date of birth.”
“No, I’d like to refer a patient to him,” Geneva replied directly.
The receptionist sighed, and her voice changed immediately from professional to condescending. “Dr. Hutchins, we have a procedure for referrals. Dr. Solomon is a very busy man and cannot personally call every single doctor who wants to make a referral. Now. if you look on our website, you’ll find the form—”
“I understand the procedure,” Geneva interrupted, her own impatience now surpassing that of the receptionist. “Can you please just give Dr. Solomon my name and number? I assure you I will fill out your form and follow your procedure if you simply give him the message that I called.”
“I will, though I wouldn’t expect an actual phone call back, especially to someone so eager to bypass standard operating procedures.”
“Thank you for letting Dr. Solomon be the one to make that decision,” Geneva responded evenly before thanking the woman and ending the call.
Ilene kept her head turned to her computer, showing the decency to remain silent and not latch onto the “I told you so” that hung so tangibly in the air between them.
Geneva sifted through the rest of the waiting stack of papers. In between test results and marking notes for both Ilene and herself, she mentally rehearsed what to say to Kara.
She hadn’t gotten far when the phone rang. Ilene glanced up at the time, obviously checking to see if they were past the five o’clock mark and could simply let the machine take the call.
Geneva ignored the clock, glanced at the incoming number, and answered before it completed its second ring.
“Hello, this is Dr. Hutchins.”
“Geneva?” the deep, soothing voice sent delicious tingles down her spine.
“Yes?” Geneva asked, feigning ignorance. She couldn’t let him know what his voice did to her even after all this time. It was much better to pretend she didn’t recognize it at all.
“Geneva, this is Carter Solomon,” he said, slipping into a more professional tone than his initial first whisper of her name. “I received a message that you called me.”
“Yes, I did. Thank you for returning my call, Dr. Solomon.”
Ilene’s head jerked up in shock, and her wide-eyed gaze locked onto Geneva in surprise.
Geneva shot a smile of satisfaction Ilene’s way and turned to her office to take the call. Only after she’d firmly shut the door on her nurse’s curious and highly-tuned hearing did she relax the stiff professionalism in her voice. After all, as much as it hurt her pride to ask a favor, her request would not be granted if she pretended only a professional association. She needed to use the fact that they’d once meant something to each other and hope that it proved enough to earn a personal favor.
“I need a favor, Carter,” Geneva announced, stating her purpose in as straightforward a manner as possible.
“Carter? I take it you do need a favor, Dr. Hutchins. That’s why we’re now ‘Carter’ and ‘Geneva.’” Carter laughed. “What? No ‘how have you been for the past four years?’ You just need something from me.”
“I’m sorry, Carter. This isn’t really a personal call.”
“Oh, I disagree. You called knowing I’d see your name and call you back because of our personal history. My guess is you also want that personal connection to cut through the usual red tape of a referral.”
Geneva winced, hating his tone of voice when he said the word “personal.”
She didn’t feel like sitting, so she walked behind her desk and began pacing. Knowing Carter would see through any attempt at pretense, she responded honestly. “I didn’t know, but I hoped. On both counts. And I don’t need to ask how you’ve been the past four years, Carter. I already know. You’re the top pediatric oncologist in the area, and one of the top few in the nation. Recipient of numerous awards. Highly sought-after. Regarded as a miracle worker by your patients.”
“So you’ve been keeping tabs on me. Then I’m guessing you know more than that. You’re always thorough, Geneva. Might as well spill the rest.”
Geneva pursed her lips, wishing he was wrong. Knowing she couldn’t deny it, she quickly gave the full report. “You bought a house about ten minutes away from the hospital. You take your vacation in the summer and visit your family every Christmas. You attend church every Sunday, except if you have an emergency. You do quite a few public fundraising events and speak at nationwide conferences. You aren’t married. You’ve had a few different girlfriends, or at least women who claimed to be such on social media.”
“Yet no contact for nearly half a decade. And today, you call my office, not my personal cell.”
Raw anger began to simmer. Why was he act
ing as if the lack of communication in the last four years was her fault? “Why would I call or contact you? As I remember it, you were the one who broke up with me.”
“Yes, I did,” he replied, without a hint of regret. “I probably hold the record as the only man to ever break up with Geneva Hutchins. Which means that the only reason you would ever contact me is professional, at least in your mind. I’m also guessing you’ve kept tabs on me not because of some lingering heartache, but because you needed to know how best to avoid me. After all, we live and work an hour apart, and I understand you also have privileges at a Brighton Falls hospital. Not running into each other in all this time is quite an accomplishment. I compliment your logistical competence.”
He has no idea of the efforts I’ve taken to avoid him! But he was also wrong in his conjecture. He assumed injured pride as the reason when, in actuality, she carried a great deal more heartache than she hoped he ever realized.
“I always assumed that if you wanted to contact me, you would,” Geneva said, working to once again toss the ball in his court. He was the one who wanted nothing to do with her. She shouldn’t be the one on trial here! Barely realizing it, she sank down in the chair behind her desk, folded her free arm over her chest, and set her face in determination as if he could see her expression.
“Other than the fact that your name comes up every now and then in medical circles, I really haven’t kept tabs on you, Gen. I assumed you hadn’t changed, so I didn’t need to know anything else,” Carter assured, his casual, carefree tone backing up his words. “Since the brilliant Dr. Geneva Hutchins is wearing her doctor’s coat right now and seeking a patient referral leveraging our personal history, I assume this patient is important to you.”
Geneva swallowed with difficulty, pushing aside the pain his words caused. Of course, he’d never believe he’d hurt her anyway. It was best to let him believe his own words and press on for Allie. She sat forward, propped her elbow on her desk, and rested her temple on her hand. Closing her eyes, she answered, “Yes, she is important. She is the eight-year-old daughter of a friend of mine, and her leukemia has returned after nearly a two-year remission. Carter, you’re the best. I need you to take her as a patient. You know I wouldn’t ask otherwise. Please put any personal dislike of me aside and save Allie. I know I can’t do it myself.”
Carter sighed and answered quietly, his voice for once sounding warm and genuine. “Gen, of course I’ll take your patient. When my receptionist said you called about a referral, I knew I’d take your patient whether or not you spoke to me personally. Send me her files. I can see her next Monday at ten o’clock. Will that work?”
“Yes, Carter.” Geneva answered quickly, worried that he’d take his offer back. She could only imagine what Carter’s schedule looked like. She’d never thought he’d be willing and able to see Allie so soon.
“And for the record, I don’t dislike you. In fact, I’ve never respected another doctor as much as I respect you. I know how much it hurt your pride to ask for my help. I also know you’d do absolutely anything for your patients.”
Geneva felt her eyes widen. Unsure how to respond, unsure whether it was a complement or a backhanded put down, she offered, “Thank you?”
“I’ll keep you updated and send you all the notes to your office.” He chuckled. “Hey. With any luck, you can maintain your perfect record of not running into me.”
Geneva bit her lip. She wanted to lash out at him, reminding him once again that he was the one who didn’t want her. The saddest part was that he didn’t have a clue who she was then, and he certainly didn’t know now. He’d just touched on the fundamental problem in their relationship. He respected and liked her professionally, but had absolutely no use for her personally. He’d never taken the time to know her outside of work. She’d been a complete disappointment to him in every way, and nothing she did now would change that.
Yet, for Allie’s sake, she would keep her mouth shut. She would continue to let him believe her pride competed in size with Texas and that the only person he could ever respect was the version of Geneva with the title of Doctor in front of her name.
“I would definitely appreciate updates,” she said simply. “Allie is a special girl.”
“Good night, Geneva.” He paused thoughtfully. “It was nice to see your name come across my desk.”
Geneva wasn’t sure how to respond or say goodbye. She shut her eyes and let the truth slip quietly through her lips. “It was good to hear your voice, Carter.” She hung up quickly, before she could snatch the words back.
Geneva looked at the phone in her hand for a solid thirty seconds as if expecting it to come back to life. Then she sighed, stood from her chair, and returned to the counter in the hallway.
“Allie has an appointment with Dr. Solomon on Monday at ten o’clock,” she told Ilene, her tone even and emotionless. “I will let Kara know, but can you make sure he receives her records before you leave today?”
Ilene looked at her with wide eyes. “Of course. But Monday? Dr. Hutchins, that’s incredible! How do you know Dr. Solomon? You have to know him. There’s no other way you’d receive a call back and then an appointment so quickly!”
Geneva shrugged. “Dr. Solomon and I went to medical school together. I knew him before he was famous and covered in awards. We haven’t interacted in years, but I hoped he would recognize my name.”
Instead of the answer satisfying Ilene’s curiosity, it seemed only to pique it more. Before Geneva turned her back to check through her email one last time, she saw the questions crowding Ilene’s intense gaze.
“Can I ask you a question, Dr. Hutchins?” Ilene finally said several minutes later.
“Sure,” Geneva responded distractedly, keeping her eyes on the screen in front of her.
Undaunted, Ilene continued, “There’s something about you I’ve always wondered. The way that receptionist treated you earlier is quite unusual. When I’m making calls to other doctors, I mention your name and have immediate respect. When I attended that conference several months ago, I spoke with a doctor who told me you’d wasted your talents going into general practice. I know many doctors in a wide range of fields call you for consults, and many patients prefer to continue seeing you rather than go to a specialist. Now you tell me that you went to medical school with one of the nation’s top oncologists.”
“I don’t hear a question.”
Ilene grinned. “Well, it’s just that all that makes me wonder why you went into general practice.”
Geneva smiled, relieved that Ilene’s question didn’t qualify as a more personal variety. She didn’t mind answering this one. “Every time I did an internship or rotation in school, I was urged by the doctors to choose that as my specialty. I liked it all, and general practice was the only field where I could do a little of everything. I didn’t want to choose something narrow and get bored, so I chose the broadest and figured I could specialize in it all. Many of my professors, other doctors, and colleagues were not at all happy with my decision, but I’ve made it work for me. I still write scholarly articles and participate in research. I get my ‘big league’ fix when I do ER shifts at the hospital in Brighton Falls, and my reputation is good enough that I still get to consult in a variety of areas. Overall, it’s been the right choice for me.”
“Crossroads is so blessed to have you,” Ilene said sincerely. “A doctor of your reputation and caliber has really improved the medical field and Crossroads as a whole.”
Geneva recognized the truth in what Ilene said. Before she opened an office and started working with the local hospital, many Crossroads hospital garnered a terrible reputation, and local doctors were viewed as Brighton Falls cast-offs. However, Geneva’s changes combined with her local girl status and stellar reputation immediately earned her a fan club of loyal patients. She couldn’t currently handle the demand for her services and had recently hired a Physician’s Assistant to help with the workload. Though she had screened and hired her PA care
fully, it wasn’t easy convincing her patients to see anyone but the “real doctor.”
“Most days, I feel happy to be here,” Geneva said. If given a redo, she knew she’d still make the same choices. In her heart, the life of a small-town doctor was better than that of even a highly paid, nationally renown surgeon.
“That ‘most days’ doesn’t include today,” Ilene filled in knowingly.
“It’s never easy informing a mother that her child’s cancer has returned. Telling the child is even worse.”
“Is there anything that I can do,” Ilene asked, her voice sincere.
Ilene was a good nurse. If Geneva said the word, Ilene would make the call and very professionally and compassionately deliver the news to Kara and Allie. But it was Geneva’s job, and she couldn’t shirk her duty either as a doctor or a friend.
“No, Ilene. Send Allie’s file and then get out of here to enjoy your weekend. It’s been a long week. I’ll see you on Monday.”
Ilene nodded gratefully and turned back to her computer. Five minutes later, she gathered her purse to leave.
At her hesitation at the door, Geneva called again, “Go ahead, Ilene. I’ll be fine. I’ll make the call and be right behind you.”
Ilene slipped out the door, and Geneva picked up the phone with determination. She mentally rehearsed what words to say, her lips forming the syllables in practice, even if no sound came out. She poised her finger over the numbers to dial.
Lord, help me know what to say, she prayed miserably, feeling the inadequacy of the words waiting on her lips.
She instructed her fingers to dial, but they remained immobile, refusing to obey. She took a deep breath and forced her finger to dial the first three numbers, then she stopped.
I can’t do this!
Making a phone call was the wrong thing to do. It was the easy out, promising Geneva the most impersonal, least painful option in delivering bad news.
But Geneva wasn’t one to take the easy out at the cost to her patients. She would gladly shoulder all the pain necessary to provide Kara and Allie any kind of comfort.
