“Classes designed to teach beginners. Which is not what my class is designed to teach. And like I said, I’m sorry. I know you’re going to do some amazing things with your diabetes program, and I wish you well in that. And who knows? I’ll be gone in eighteen months. Maybe the person hired to take over for me will have a different set of criteria for his or her classes.” To his credit, Mark actually struggled with a sympathetic smile as he turned and walked toward the door.
But Angela wasn’t ready to let him leave. In fact, she beat him to the door. Flew out from behind her desk and practically threw herself in front of Mark. She wanted this! She wasn’t about to take another rejection quite as easily as she had her ex-husband’s. “So, tell me what I can do to make you change your mind.”
Mark’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What didn’t you understand about me saying no?”
“Trust me, I understand rejection. But I want this and there has to be something I can do to get myself into your class. Take some outside courses somewhere, read some books, take a test. I’m sure my sister will help me…”
Before he answered, he paused, and actually chuckled. Then looked her square in the eyes. “I admire your determination, and I only hope the students I do choose will have that same determination in them. But classes start in just over a month, Mrs. Blanchard. What you need to know can’t be learned in that time. I’m sorry, but my decision is final. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
He laid his hand on the doorknob, tried turning it. Then stopped, like he was waiting for her next round of arguments. Which came immediately. “Is there anything to stop me from auditing your classes?” she asked.
“Auditing?”
“Sitting in, taking notes, learning what the other students are learning?” It wouldn’t get her the certificate she needed, but if the instructor who took over the school eighteen months from now was as difficult as Dr. Anderson, at least she’d be prepared. And if waiting for a year and a half was what it took, that’s what she’d do. After all, she had time. Plenty of it. “Would you stop me from doing that?”
“I won’t certify you at the end.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“And I won’t allow you to participate, as in raising your hand and asking questions or taking part in discussions. You’ll sit in the back of the room and take notes, nothing else.”
“I’m aware of that, too.”
“You won’t be allowed to come along on field exercises. Or train on any of the equipment we use.”
“That’s fine.”
“And you won’t get progress reports telling you how well, or badly, you’re doing.”
“Fine, too.” It wasn’t the way she wanted it, but if this was the only way in for her, she’d take it.
“Well, then, if you want to waste all that time for what’s going to amount to nothing, I won’t stop you from auditing the classes.”
It wasn’t an amazing victory, but it was a victory nonetheless. Or at least a tiny step on the road to her goal. “Thank you,” she said, stepping away from the door. “I appreciate you letting me do this.”
“I’m not doing anything, Mrs. Blanchard. Not a thing.”
Maybe not. But at least he wasn’t stopping her. That was better than nothing.
“She’s so beautiful,” Angela said, dropping down into the recliner chair next to the bed. “Almost makes me want to have another baby.”
“Anything I should know?” Gabby Ranard asked. She was cradling her newborn, Mary, in her arms, looking as happy as any new mother could look.
“I’m not dating, not going to date. Not even liking men too much right now.” She reached over and took the baby from Gabby’s arms. “Some men, anyway.”
“Sounds harsh.”
“Not harsh, practical.”
“Any particular man?”
“His name is Mark Anderson, and before you defend him because he’s your husband’s best friend, next to Eric, let me just say that whatever you’re going to say will be falling on deaf ears. He turned me down for his training program this morning, and I don’t like him, don’t want to like him, don’t intend to like him.” She said the words with a soft edge so not to disturb Mary, who’d already drifted off to sleep. “Should I go put her in the crib for you?” she asked, standing up before Gabby could even answer.
“If you’re going to tell me everything then yes. Let her sleep, because I want to hear what happened.”
Angela put her goddaughter down, tucked her in and kissed her on the forehead. Even though Sarah was only a year older than Mary, she already missed the baby experience. Loved every minute of it, didn’t want it to ever end. But too soon Sarah would outgrow her baby years, then Angela would be having her baby fixes vicariously… through her sister Dinah when she decided to have a baby, maybe even Gabby again. That’s just the way it had to be. She wasn’t getting any younger, and by the time she’d gotten herself to a place in life where she wanted her and Sarah to be, she just might be too old to have another baby. It wasn’t like thirty-three was too old, but if it took her as long to get to the next point in her life as it had to this one, Sarah would be a teenager. Or married and having babies of her own.
“Now, tell me what happened,” Gabby urged, after Angela settled herself back into the chair.
“There’s really nothing to tell. Because I do work in the medical field now, I thought he’d accept me.” Up until six weeks ago she’d been the executive chef at one of the local ski lodges, but the hours Sarah needed didn’t work well with the hours her job had required. More than that, Eric and Neil had been trying to recruit her to the hospital to take over the juvenile diabetes program. It had been a providential move, one that had launched her into a totally new frame of mind about her life, and what she wanted to accomplish. Truly, it was time to make herself useful. Make up for all those worthless years with Brad. “And you know how good I am on skis. I’d hoped that wandering around Europe, from slope to slope, all those years, would make a difference. But it didn’t. Dr. Anderson turned me down because I don’t have what he wants.”
“What does he want?” Gabby asked.
“The sun, the moon and someone who knows how to take blood pressure. I’m a good clinical dietician, but I don’t even know one end of a blood-pressure cuff from another.”
“Sphygmomanometer,” Gabby interrupted.
“What?”
“Sphygmomanometer. Blood-pressure cuff. That’s the correct name for it.”
“See what I mean? I don’t know those things, so that disqualifies me.”
“Even after Neil and Eric recommended you?”
“Apparently so.”
“I’m sorry,” Gabby said. “I haven’t been paying much attention to what Neil has been saying about the program. With just having the baby and all.”
“Two babies,” Angela reminded her.
“Two babies, a year apart. That’s kept me preoccupied. But I really thought…”
Angela held out her hand to stop her. “It doesn’t matter. Dr. Anderson is probably right, much as I hate to admit it. If my ignorance would hold the class back, I don’t want to do that. But I’ve got a plan.”
Gabby laughed.