“It works fine for what I do now. I just tweaked it helping Alex. Now, can we get started? The kids are waiting for us,” she said. She went to the door, trying hard not to limp.
Payson followed her outdoors, where children were preparing to mount up. The pony, Molly, trotted around the ring, herding stragglers toward the volunteers and caregivers. The hospital observers stood clear of all the commotion. It took a good fifteen minutes to get the children settled and the therapy started. Even so, there were stops for tears and more than one potty break.
“Is this how the program usually operates? I don’t remember observing this sort of chaos previously,” Payson asked.
“More or less. We’re careful to not push the children too hard. They are fairly new to riding. We don’t want to make them hate it before they discover the joy,” Jessie said.
“There definitely needs to be more structure,” he said as he made a notation.
“I understand why you may think that, but I am trained, you know. I’ve found that—”
“I understand that you took, what, a one-year course?” Payson asked without looking up.
He made it sound as if she didn’t know what she was doing, just like when they’d been married.
He went on as he closed his notebook and looked her in the eye. “I wanted to let you know that I had a meeting this morning before I came out here. There are additional concerns about the program and the affiliation.”
“You mean concerns that you brought up. I should have known there was no way you would give the program a fair evaluation.”
“I’m not any more thrilled about this situation than you are. It has been made completely clear to me that to become director of pediatrics, I’ve got to work with you to get this program ready for an affiliation with the hospital.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Jessie, language.”
“I only swear when you’re around.”
“I doubt that,” he said and looked out over the ring. The youngsters rode slowly with big grins on their faces. “I gave a brief report this morning to the committee, and they decided that their involvement needs to be more extensive.”
“Than what? You’re here with who knows how many others. I lost count,” Jessie said.
“I’m going to bottom-line it. The hospital will be overseeing the program while all of the departments do their evaluations and make their recommendations for changes and upgrades to increase efficiency and effectiveness.”
“Payson, please follow me,” Jessie said tightly. She could not have this conversation anywhere near the children because she was going to be yelling and possibly committing murder. When they were fifty feet from the corral, she turned to him. “This is my program. I know I contacted you, but just to ask who I should talk to at the hospital. I never asked for you to take over. You always have to be the one in control, don’t you? You can’t let me do this on my own. It’s just like when we were married. You were always trying to improve things—like telling me I should go to college and diagramming the most economical way to do laundry.”
“Jessie, if I want to be named the director I’ve got to make this program work for the hospital. It’ll be good for you, too. There are a number of departments that are chomping at the bit—pardon the pun—to use your program. It doesn’t hurt that, according to the public relations guy, Hope’s Ride will make the hospital look ‘progressive and forward thinking.’”
“So the children don’t matter? It’s all about image and your promotion? I’m the one in charge here. It’s my program,” she said, hoping she sounded stronger than she felt. Had she hoped he’d come back for her? Not to climb up the hospital rungs?
“Jessie, if you don’t work with me and the others, the hospital will cut off any association. I know a few doctors have given the program a try. They will take away their patients and no one else will refer children to you. It won’t take long for word to get around that there must be something wrong since Desert Valley Hospital won’t refer anyone.”
If she wanted her program to continue, she had to give in. If she were a millionaire, like the members of the hospital’s board, she could tell them to take a flying leap.
“By the way, I did convince the hospital to give you a stipend out of my budget while I run the program.”
“Excuse me. Back up. You’re going to be doing what?”
“I’ll be in charge of Hope’s Ride while the hospital staff is here.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re going to be my boss?”
“I won’t exactly be your boss,” Payson said.
“You’re paying me. You’re telling me what to do. Seems like that’s exactly what a boss does,” Jessie fired back.
He was wary because when she was upset, she sometimes acted before she thought. “If you want the hospital to list you as an endorsed program, you’re going to have to accept this condition for now.”
“Fine. I’m sure you’re happy, Dr. Control Freak.”
“If I were your boss, comments like that would get you fired,” he said, only half-joking.
“Good thing that you’re not ‘exactly’ my boss then.”
“Maybe setting some ground rules would help. I’ll give you a written list of the protocols that will need to be followed. That’s not my choice. It’s the hospital’s rules.” He saw her lips go from full to thin and waited for the explosion.
“I understand,” she finally said, not looking any less annoyed but sounding...resigned.
“Great. That’s a start,” he said.
Her capitulation didn’t make him feel like they were on better footing. He didn’t want her program to fail. He’d never wished that anything bad would happen to Jessie—at least, not anymore. The first few months after the divorce, he might have hoped that she’d have to ride rodeo in Siberia.
They talked for a few more minutes. By the end of the conversation, Payson thought there was a good chance that the two of them could work together with minimal conflict. He hoped so, because his future had been firmly tied to Jessie’s by the hospital. “Tomorrow, we’ll plan for the team from physical therapy to observe. They talked about wanting to stay for two weeks, then they’ll make recommendations. At that point, we’ll discuss how to assess the success of those improvements.”
“Improvements? Yeah, I can already see the improvements, like making sure that you don’t let the kids actually near the horses, or filling out useless forms because you want to have documentation.”
“Jessie, there are certain standards that must be met, but I’m sure we can find compromises. That’s why we’re here—to determine the best way to proceed and benefit both of us,” Payson said, wondering if that sounded as pompous as it did in his head.
“Save the bullsh—you know what. I know there’s no use arguing with you. I’ll save it for the therapists. I have a feeling they’ll be more reasonable anyway,” she said and went on before he could protest. “I’d like to set up an orientation for all of your staff. I know they know their jobs but most won’t have worked around horses. Even my volunteers who are horse people have to go through orientation. It keeps everyone safe. Why don’t