“You don’t like my perfume?”
He grinned at her little joke.
“I was about to change into fresh scrubs when you came in here, bleeding all over the place.”
“Is that my blood on your shoes?”
“Probably.”
“How come you wear yellow shoes?”
“They make me happy.”
“Aren’t you mad that I got blood on ’em? It made my mom real mad when I got blood on her towel.”
She smiled, hoping he would see the love of Jesus in her eyes. That’s what she was here for. “Do I look mad?”
He smiled back. “No, you look pretty. I think I could go for you.”
Maybe she’d overdone the smile.
“I dig blond chicks, even if you are kind of old.”
Stevie needed a little work on his pickup lines.
“You’ve got pretty eyes.”
That was better.
“I never seen anybody with that eye color. They’re kind of gold or brown or somethin’. And you got long eyelashes. Are you seeing anybody?”
Kids hated when they were treated like kids. If she could hang in here and talk to him as if he were an adult, there might be an opening to talk about Jesus. “I’m still single, Stevie. How about you?”
“I’m not with anybody either. You wanna go out some time, Doc?”
There it was. “I might if we went to church. You wanna take me to church?”
“Nah. I mean, like on a real date, like a movie.”
“Sorry, but I can’t go on real dates with my patients.”
“Oh, sure. I understand.”
“But the invitation to church still holds.” She described the store-front church near the clinic and their cool program for kids.
“I might try it some time,” Stevie said, maybe to please. “You know, you’re a really good doctor. The best I’ve ever seen.”
One of the male volunteers popped his head in. “Doctor, we’re having your surprise birthday party in the lounge now. Can I finish up with this patient, and can you go act surprised?”
She glanced at Stevie, caught his quick look of disappointment and said, “Would you mind bringing a couple of pieces of cake in here?”
“No problem.”
“Stevie, I want you to talk to our social worker for a few minutes, and then we’ll have cake together. Okay?”
“No way! I ain’t seeing no social worker.” Stevie scooted off the table, fast as a wink. She grabbed for him as he bolted for the door, but he was gone.
It was the end of the day before Beth made it to the staff lounge to sit down. She didn’t mind that she was alone or that cake crumbs were all that was left of her party. It was good to have a quiet spot to check her voice mail before heading home.
She plopped down on the secondhand sofa, put her feet on the rickety coffee table and found the message she’d hoped for. Grandpa had called.
She called him back, and he answered quickly, as if he’d been waiting. “Happy birthday, darling.”
“Thank you, Grandpa. What are you doing this fine autumn day?”
“Looking at flight schedules. If you’re not ever going to come home, I’m coming to see you.”
Beth’s heart skipped a beat. She would love that.
“I thought I’d like to see the fall colors along the Hudson River. I haven’t been to New York in decades.”
She couldn’t believe it. “This is great, Grandpa! We’ll have to see the sights and do all the tourist things.”
“Maybe not all,” he said chuckling. “I’m not much of a walker anymore.”
Despite the age-related quaver in his voice, he sounded so vital and strong that she forgot his body wasn’t.
“I miss you, Beth. I’ll never forgive myself for the decision that made you go so far away.”
They had talked this to death, but once again she said, “If you were wrong, I was just as wrong to get offended. I’ve been at such peace here, that it must have been the right thing. Maybe I wasn’t ready to work at BMC; maybe I needed this time away to learn what makes me happy. For sure, I tried too hard to please Mom, Dad, you, the whole family.”
“Trying to please is part of life, but it can’t be your life. Now that you know what makes you happy, can you be happy back here?”
“At the clinic?”
“You don’t have to work at BMC. There are free clinics in the L.A. area if that’s your passion or if it’s too much for you to work with the family.”
Too much for her? Running a peds office at Brennan Medical would be a piece of cake compared to her work at a free clinic.
“What would it take to get you back, Beth?”
If she hadn’t found a new dream in all this time, was it God’s plan for her to go back? Could she work there?
“You belong here, darling.”
She didn’t believe that anymore. How could she convince him? “Grandpa, you’ve brought together some of the brightest, most experienced doctors in L.A. They’ve earned the right to practice in an exclusive group, and they value BMC’s prestigious address. My chief credential is that I’m your granddaughter, and I could care less that our patients are rich or famous. I don’t belong there!”
“You’re the future, Beth. Of course you belong.”
“I would only be a disappointment to you, or, worse, an embarrassment.”
“Never!”
“Not even if I wore a frog on my head?”
A loud guffaw had her pulling the phone from her ear. “I believe that’s my traditional New Year’s Eve hat.”
It was. “But I wear funny hats in the office any time I want to, not just like the family does on New Year’s Eve. I collect yellow sneakers in different styles and wear a pair every day. I’m rather eccentric, Grandpa, and I love it. In New York, nobody notices, but, if gossip about the family was an issue for you a year and a half ago, think what it would be like if I were there now.”
There was such silence that Beth thought they’d lost their phone connection.
“Grandpa…?”
“I’m here. I’m thinking.”
Maybe she’d finally made her point. Shouldn’t that make her feel better than she did? She hated arguing with Grandpa.
“Beth, the last time we talked, I said I’d like to fly you home, first class, and I would have a brand-new car waiting for you. Do you remember what you said?”
“I said if material things mattered, I wouldn’t be working as a volunteer at a free clinic.” She felt almost as insulted now, repeating the words, as she had, saying them the first time. She was above taking a bribe.
“Well, what if I said the car that would be waiting for you could be one of those new VW convertibles?”
“A Beetle?” She loved those fun little cars.
“It could be yellow to match your shoes. Imagine it, Beth. Your yellow VW parked